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eywa-eveng · 1 year

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ɪɪɪ. sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏɴᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ᴊᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʟʟʏ, sᴜʟʟʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴹᴱᵀᴷᴬᵞᴵᴺᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 16.2k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – widower!Jake, war, gore, major character death

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ – Part three is finally here! Only one part left and then this short series will be officially finished! Also, this installment follows closely to the plot of the movie.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪᴠ

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @itscheybaby @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @goldenmoonbeam @ladylovegood-69 @slutforsmut4ever @myheartfollower @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz @sovereignsylvia @scc7514 @ghost-lantern @calums-betch @nao-cchi @a—1–1–3 @crazy4books1 @meladollsims

Wind blows through the great arches of the Cove, lifting misting clouds of warm water that sparkle in the pale light rising from beneath the waves. The breeze is filled with the comforting scents of home; of lush sea grass and the tang of the ocean as gusts of air whistle like flying arrows across the open water. The waves crashing against the shore below add to the melody like the beat of a drum as the wind whispers a soft song through the balmy air. The floating islands stand guard, shadows passing overhead like clouds to offer relief from the warmth of the afternoon sun. It’s peaceful here in the Cove of the Ancestors, tranquil as still water as you work.

The climb had been arduous, your palms sore and legs burning from the climb. The ground feels like a salve as the cool dirt rushes like water over your hands as you carefully dig up plants. Collecting these greenish gray roots are the last of your chores for the day. They’re a necessity for some healing tonics and Ronal has nearly depleted her supply with the new wave of hunters looking to prove their worth so soon after their rites have been passed. It is expected. They are still young, still eager to prove their strength and worth as one of The People. But hunting is not all that is needed in the clan. Some will be better suited to other tasks. Weaving nets, repairing the marui, teaching the younglings the ways of the clan. Some will become healers and free divers. It is what you’re suited to even after so many years of training to hunt and fish. Now, you tuck the last of the knotted roots into the satchel on your hip and dust the dirt from your hands. The climb up the winding vines hanging from the spono alusìng may have been strenuous but getting down is always your favorite part. A few steps back, a deep breath, and then you’re sprinting to the edge of the island.

Those few moments in the air feel infinite as the wind whips around you, running through your hair and across your skin like weightless touches as the water below draws closer. There’s a moment of darkness as you close your eyes against the impact and then a burst of light as the water slows your descent, the tide keeping you from sinking. Pale purple light plays across your skin, the fronds of the Ranteng Utralti tracing against you as you swim towards the surface. The light fades as you return to the village, purple fading to yellow as the afternoon deepens to evening. The terraces are emptying and hunters are beginning to return from beyond the reef as you pull yourself onto the path in front of your marui. Ronal’s voice greets you, a sharp, wordless yip you recognize as a call for your presence.

She isn’t happy when you join her, the marui already crowded with guests as the children stand in the shadow of their tsahìk and olo’eyktan. There’s a grave energy filling the home, a disturbance that only grows as your eyes pass over Lo’ak and the rest. A chill trickles down your spine as you hand Ronal what you’ve collected. She sets it to the side with little regard, her green eyes filled with an anger that flows deeper than petty squabbles between children. Before you can speak she grabs your arm with enough strength to make your ears bow back in submission.

“What have you been teaching your children?” She’s seething, words coming from between clenched teeth as she bares her fangs at you. Your lip twitches, prepared to draw back in your own show of displeasure. There is an accusation shining in her eyes, words harsher than she cares to share in the presence of others. Before she was tsahìk she was your elder sister and it’s clear in her fierce expression that she’d rather dispense with formalities and speak her anger freely. Instead she tosses your arm away with a hissing sigh, returning to her pacing before whirling to face the children once more.

They’re standing with their heads bowed, ears pulled back and tails hanging limp between their legs as Ronal’s green gaze draws over each of them like a stinging nettle. Finally she settles on her daughter. Tsireya already looks close to tears, eyes clouded thick with regret and unshed tears. Her tanhì flicker with a faint anxious light, seemingly keeping time with what must be her thundering heartbeat. It’s an expression you’ve known in your younger years at the hands of Ronal. She expects so much of those she teaches, and even more when they are her family. Tsireya is in line to be tsakarem, she’s meant to reflect Eywa’s grace. And whatever she’s done has gone against the Great Mother’s teachings.

“You allowed this! You allowed him to bond with the outcast!” Ronal snaps.

“Payakan?” The word leaves your lips before you can stop it. Barely a whisper but your sister hears it. The flames of her anger are turned on you in an instant, catching quickly and burning away at your pride as she scolds you as if you’re a child. A hiss rolls off your tongue with little consideration, teeth bared at Ronal as your tail begins to sway in tense waves. Your sister isn’t perturbed by the display of aggression. Neither of you will go beyond these small shows of hostility.

“Yes, Payakan!” Ronal snaps. “Your son has bonded with him. And they allowed it to happen!” She doesn’t name which of your children has made this misstep but a place in your heart knows it was Lo’ak even before Ronal’s eyes settle on him. He doesn’t look nearly as remorseful as you’d expect. There’s an air of annoyance and agitation in his idle movement, but there isn’t a sense of guilt in his lowered gaze and sagging shoulders.

“Lo’ak, what have you done? You should’ve known better.” His head raises when you say his name, defiance bright as starlight in his yellow eyes.

“You are the son of a great warrior and this is how you act? You have been taught better than this.” Tonowari says just as Jake makes his way to the marui. Jake’s eased expression immediately falls to shadows, his brows drawing low and his jaw tightening as he hears the olo’eyktan’s words.

“Payakan saved my life, nawmtu. You don’t know him.” Lo’ak’s words only serve to sow further discord as he speaks against Tonowari. Tsireya murmurs his name, shaking her head to discourage his attitude. There is still more he wants to say, insolence still clear on his face as he lifts his chin but holds his tongue. Tonowari does the same, nodding at Lo’ak’s disrespect.

“Sit.” He says evenly. Threads of anger slowly pulling at his tone. At last, Lo’ak bows his head as Tonowari stoops to his level but the olo’eyktan is not mollified. “Sit down!” He shouts until all the children are seated. Tsireya falls to her knees like a stone through water while the other boys remain tense. Tonowari’s voice is strong enough to buckle even your knees but Ronal catches you by the elbow before you can kneel at her mate’s side. She might have laid the fault for this at your feet–blaming your poor teaching–but she won’t let you bow to Tonowari’s anger in this way. She shakes her head when you look at her. Despite her initial anger, this isn’t your lesson to learn.

Tonowari dissipates his anger with a harsh exhale before speaking again.

“Hear my words, boy. These are lessons you’ve learned before when the tulkun returned, but it seems you do not remember. The tulkun forbid killing, yet Payakan has gone against this. He has returned to the ways of the days of the First Songs; taking lives. We follow the way of our brothers and sisters. Payakan is a killer, so he is outcast. To all.”

“No. I’m sorry, nawmtu, but you’re wrong.”

“Lo’ak!” You snap before he can say more. “You speak to olo’eyktan.” His eyes settle on you for a brief moment before his mouth opens again.

“I know–”

“That’s enough!” Jake snaps. His silence lasts a few beats longer, long enough for Tsireya to try to dissuade him with another shake of her head. He seems to consider her before raising his head once more.

“I know what I know.” He finishes. Ronal drops your arm, clicking her tongue at your son before turning away from all of you. This new bond has upset the great balance and it will be a burden to the tsahìk before anyone else. Though it weighs just as heavily on your shoulders, perhaps more. Lo’ak is your child. His teaching is your responsibility. And yet here is a clear mark of your failure to teach him your ways.

“That’s enough.” Jake growls, looming over Lo’ak like a pouncing animal. At last, Lo’ak surrenders. “I’ll deal with him.” Tonowari nods, watching Jake pull Lo’ak away from the marui. The rest of the children scatter, glad to be free of their leaders’ anger.

“Go,” Ronal dismisses you as well. “You’ve worked hard today.” Those are her words of consolation. Not an apology but a stone to step over this conflict. This storm will not pass as easily as fighting between the children, but what’s done is done. A bond with a spirit brother can only be undone by death. This decision; Lo’ak and Payakan will have to live with it for the rest of their lives.

It’s in your nature to soothe and nurture, a childhood spent healing and convening with the Great Mother has instilled a caring nature within you. Even with anger sitting heavy as stones in your chest you want to go to Lo’ak, to ease his thoughts. Jake will surely have torn into him like an akula for his disrespect towards Tonowari, and while his words will be harsh they aren’t undeserved. Some things you simply cannot turn a blind eye to. He has gone against the way of the Metkayina in a way no one has in recent memory. It is expected that the tsahìk approves the bonding between spirit siblings. For Lo’ak to disregard tradition, to bond with an outcast no less, is a great show of disrespect. And yet you want to understand why he did it. You linger just beyond the path of the Sully marui where Jake’s voice has carried. His words are muffled but anger is evident in his tone. After a while, Lo’ak storms out. When Jake doesn’t follow to drag him back inside you decide it is your time to make a gentler attempt at reproach.

Lo’ak knows you’re following him. Your shadow is lengthening in pinkish purple light of the coming eclipse and casting across his back as your feet find the prints he’s already left in the sand. Every Na’vi is taught to hunt from a young age and his ears twitch towards the soft pattering of your footfalls even as he refuses to stop. When he is finally tired of running he turns to look at you. His face is no longer set in stony defiance. Instead the harsh lines have fallen away to something soft and vulnerable. He looks nearly close to tears, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He isn’t sad, but there is a sort of frustration that can only be released through angry tears. Like a bowl spilling over, Lo’ak’s overabundance of clashing emotions has nowhere to pour but outwards.

“They hate me.” His voice breaks over the words. “They hate me, Sa’nok.” Your heart squeezes.

“Shameful. Outcast. That’s all I’ll ever be to anyone.” When his head falls you lift it with a gentle hand under his chin. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Payakan is my friend, I swear. Please, Sa’nok, you have to believe me. You have to believe me.” He clings to your arm as if you’re the only thing keeping him from being washed out with the tide. It isn’t sadness tinging his voice but an unrestrained desperation. Ronal denied him. Tonowari denied him. Jake denied him. Even Tsireya told him to hold his tongue. None of them would hear him, none of them would See him. But you See. So much.

“Lo’ak. Ma’itan. I believe you.” You take his hands in yours and draw him to sit in the sand. “Just tell me what happened. Everything.” And he does. He tells you of how Payakan saved him when Ao’nung abandoned him beyond the reef, of how he visited him nearly every day between his chores and lessons, of how he knew they were meant to be spirit brothers after seeing the bond between The People and the returning tulkun.

“Those men died, but it wasn’t Payakan who killed them. He rallied the men to fight back against the demon ship after they attacked him and his family. He watched his mother die. He was upset and scared. It wasn’t his intention to get anyone killed.” A long breath leaves your lungs as if you’ve surfaced after a long dive, releasing the tension in your chest before you speak.

“By the tulkun way he is a killer. We did not decide this, but it is the way of our brothers and sisters. Payakan must bear the weight of those lives lost. I will tell Tonowari the truth of it, but it will not change his mind. This path we follow isn’t for us to decide. Only a tulkun can remove the stain Payakan carries.”

“But it isn’t fair. He knows what he did was wrong!”

“I know, but it is the way.” You send him off with a promise to talk to his father. Jake is alone when you arrive, your skin still damp from wading in the ocean to wash away the sand. Tension is clear in the harsh lines of his muscles as he sharpens a spear, stone against stone tossing sparks of light between his hands. There are many things on his mind. Dark and heavy, looming just out of sight. This is just another weight upon his shoulders.

“Ma Jake,” he doesn’t look up from his work at the sound of your voice. Instead he grows more tense, knuckles paling as his grip tightens on the stone in his fist. His ears pull back in a show of irritation but you won’t be ignored. “Jake, this is very hard for them. This is a new place with new traditions. They are learning. It will take time. Everything does not always come easily.”

“I know.” His tone is thick with authority, dripping with the voice of an olo’eyktan. It’s final. He wants this to be done with. But if he was olo’eyktan you would be his tsahìk. It is what you trained for. It is what all your lessons have taught you to be. In this you are equals. His voice can’t intimidate you when you both stand on equal footing. Jake is no longer olo’eyktan. He’s left that life behind in the forest. And you will never be tsahìk. But you are mated, still. Equals.

“Lo’ak tries to live up to your expectations. It is very hard for him.”

“I know.” His tone has shifted to something more pliable. He’s less assured. “You are very hard on him.” He stops sharpening the blade at last, eyes swirling with a mixture of denial and acceptance. He sets his work aside and reaches for you. Your hands meet. Hot and cold. His warmed with anger and yours cooled by the ocean. There is so much fire inside him. He’s left war behind but the war hasn’t left him.

“I do everything I can to protect them,” Jake laments, “and Lo’ak still goes against my word at every turn. Fighting with Ao’nung, going beyond the reef. And now he’s gone and done this. The rest I expect. He’s never been good at following rules. But this–he’s brought shame to this family. Ronal was already hesitant about letting us stay. If you hadn’t spoken on our behalf we probably would’ve been turned away come morning. Now Lo’ak has disregarded a sacred tradition. One that Ronal presides over.”

“It isn’t just Lo’ak’s choice. He bonded with Payakan because he allowed tsaheylu to be made. A bond between a Na’vi and tulkun is as sacred as the one you share with your ikran. You must be chosen for a bond to be made and Payakan chose Lo’ak. He didn’t follow tradition but this is one of his rites passed. Ronal knows this just as well as I do. It isn’t perfect but I’m proud of him. He is becoming one with the clan. That is what you wanted isn’t it?” At last Jake sighs and the last of his fire burns out, body relaxing its rigid posture. His fingers have cooled or perhaps yours have gained some warmth as he toys with them between his own. Five fingers playing across your four.

“I was worried.” He says after a moment. “I thought that if we couldn’t make it here–if we had to leave–I’d lose you. I’d lose this home. I’d lose everything all over again.”

“Ma Jake.” Your hands pull away from his to hold his face in your palms. His brows are pulled tight and you kiss away the tension formed between them. “Where you go I follow. If you leave, so do I.” He’s already shaking his head before you can finish.

“I don’t want it to come to that. This is your home. The look on the kids’ faces when we had to leave the forest gutted me. I want this to be our home. But I don’t know how much longer this can last.” Neither of you mention that this small piece of happiness has already begun to slip through your fingers like sand. Lo’ak and Payakan are a welcomed distraction from the storm looming over the horizon, to the south where humans are beginning to attack villages. Tonowari has given the order to keep Jake hidden, but the peace his words have made is tenuous at best. How long until the sawtute bring their war to Awa’atlu if sister islands in the atolls are already being attacked?

Still the days go on. Tonowari continues to bring hushed reports of what is happening just beyond the reaches of the village. It’s all you can do to share the burden of this knowledge with your sister, with your mate. The guilt tears at Jake’s heart each time he hears of more homes being burned and animals being needlessly killed, but just as you do he tucks it all away to keep the cloud of ignorance hanging over the childrens’ heads. But, sooner or later, gathering clouds bring rain.

“These things happen.” Neteyam stiffens under your hands at the reassuring words, muscles tensing before he slowly eases himself. He’s embarrassed if the purple tinge of his cheeks and low draw of his ears are anything to go by. He’d come trailing into the marui holding his bleeding arm and promising that it couldn’t be as bad as it seemed given the blood dripping through the seams of his fingers. He keeps his gazes pointedly out of sight, lashes lowered to hide what you might find there, but his tanhì still keeps a stuttering glow beneath your fingers as you smooth a soothing balm over the newly made stitches of his arm. The jagged welt is short but cut deep, the mark of an irritated tsurak. These wounds are common in the clan, nearly everyone receives one during their training. It will heal and fade with time but perhaps quicker than Neteyam’s pride.

“Skimwings are not easily mastered. It will take time before your chosen mount fully accepts you as its rider. These bonds aren’t as easily made as those with ikran and ilu. Ilu are docile and easily soothed. Tsurak are fierce creatures meant for hunting in open water, and they do not choose their riders as ikran do. It is good that they are vicious. With time their attitude will soften towards you. Until then, you must take care to stay away from their sharp bits.” It’s meant to be teasing but Neteyam shrugs from under your hands. You sigh.

“Neteyam.” His head turns towards your voice but his eyes don’t rise to meet yours until you say his name again. He is embarrassed and disappointed. It is expected to fail before you succeed but it doesn’t seem like your son will allow himself such grace. As with everything else, he must uphold the highest standards lest it reflect badly on his family. So much of his life has been molded by the expectations of others. As the eldest son of Toruk Makto, and the older brother to a spitfire like Lo’ak who is so prone to making mistakes. It was clear from your first meeting that Neteyam tries his hardest to be like his father, and to make up for what others might say about his brother. But he is still young, still learning.

“It’s alright. No one is expecting you to ride a tsurak with the ease of a hunter on your first attempt.”

“Sempul did.” You tuck a stray braid behind his drooping ear, stifling a laugh.

“Your sempul has ridden greater things than a skimwing and even he took a few attempts before he could mount properly. I watched him. Even when I was training, I got scars of my own. It is the way of things. Mistakes mean you are learning.”

“But I shouldn’t make mistakes.” He grumbles. “I should be better.”

“And you will be, ma’itan, with time. Now go. You’ll miss the rest of your lessons and be more upset with yourself come eclipse.” He still hasn’t fully shaken the weight of disappointment from his shoulders but Neteyam stands with a dull nod. His whole body sags beneath the weight of this failure to meet his own expectations. His tail is limp between his legs as he trails out of the marui. You’re only alone for a moment. Just long enough to turn the fish over the fire before Jake comes ducking in.

“Neteyam was hurt?” He asks.

“He is your son.” You sigh, setting aside the fish you’ve already wrapped in leaves. “He has learned to ride an ilu and now he is learning to mount a skimwing. He learns as quickly as the wind, but a storm can’t blow on forever.”

“Did you talk to him?” He asks, finding his place beside you. You feel his hand find its way into your hair, twisting the dark waves over his fingers as he watches you cook. Neteyam isn’t usually so stubborn but he takes his responsibilities as the eldest son of a legendary warrior all too seriously. Never mind that Toruk Makto has only emerged five times since the times of the First Songs with Jake being the sixth. He needn’t be so insistent on being the strongest, the fastest, the absolute best. It is like the newly made warriors of the clan boasting their strength as if to prove their place among the People. Learning with a swiftness isn’t necessary especially when he is still adapting to life in a new place.

“I told him these things take time, but he won’t hear my words. A tree does not grow overnight, but he seems to think he must make miracles happen to live up to you.” Jake’s ears fall back against his head, brows frowned as he mulls over your words. It is the truth.

Jake is a miracle walking among the Na’vi. An uniltìrantokx that became one of the People. He came from a star. Lo’ak had shown it to you once. Pointing at a distant dot of light in the deep blue sky like a pearl at the bottom of the ocean. It seems so impossible to travel through the skies as if it were the ocean but you’ve seen what the sawtute can do. Their metal, their light. It is all so strange. Frightening. They take and take. More than what is needed. From the ground beneath their feet, they twist and distort until it is something unrecognizable as earth; as their home. There’s a sharp pang in your chest as you remember the feeling of Eywa crying out as the Omatikaya’s Kelutral fell to the humans’ greedy hands. Jake said that their mother was dead, that the Earth had nothing more to give, but they wanted more. They wanted to do that here. Perhaps Neteyam is right to want to be like his father. This war isn’t over. The attacks on neighboring islands have proven that.

Another sigh leaves him and you can’t help but count the seconds it takes for the heaving breath to pass.

“I wish he could’ve seen what I was like before. They wouldn’t believe the mistakes I made to become what I am today.”

“I would.” You tease, letting the moment of tension pass. “I’d believe you fell out of every tree you tried to climb and missed every mark you tried to shoot. Like a baby.”

“Kawngtu,” he says, mirthfully bearing his teeth, “I should show you all I have learned. You should know I am not a child.” Your ears grow hot at his words, cheeks warming as your freckles flicker to life as bumps like plucked flesh prickles down your arms. His tone is unmistakable. Low and warm with a teasing drawl but you won’t entertain his obvious advances. Even as his tail traces over the exposed skin of your back, drawing around your waist in a flirtatious display of affection, you ignore him in favor of continuing your cooking. Night is slowly approaching and the children will be hungry after their lessons and chores. Still acting childishly as always, Jake continues to pluck at your nerves like the string of a musical bow. You swipe at him when he gets in your way, whipping him with your tail when he won’t be moved quickly enough for your liking. His current disposition is favorable compared to how somber he’s been as of late.

It’s regrettable that the two of you weren’t able to bask in the sweetness of a newly made bond. It is expected that the days following the first tsaheylu between mates is filled with only happiness. A break from responsibilities as a new spiritual thread is woven between two souls. But the Great Mother did not seem to think your bond needed moments of leisure to be made strong. Instead there have only been these few gentle moments stolen between the growing worries that seem to draw nearer with each passing day. Even this small moment is broken as a shadow passes through the soft light of the disappearing sun, tall and commanding as Tonowari arrives with a heavy look of resentment rising like a wave in his blue eyes. It’s a look you’ve come to recognize well in the weeks since the first sawtute found their way to Awa’atlu’s distant atolls. So far from the lush green corner of the Pandoran jungle where the humans first set their covetous sights, yet not free from their treacherous hands.

“Tskano’a.” He says. Another village just like yours touched by those hands of destruction. “No one died. They were expecting an attack. Most of the marui survived their burning. But they are drawing nearer, Jakesully. I give you my word that no one will tell them where you are, but this is all I can do.”

It’s what he always says. Tonowari is patient and kind. A worthy olo’eyktan. The protector of peace above all else. The safety of the clan means more to him than the destruction of these demons. To attack would mean to wage war and war would mean shattering the peaceful life he has built for his people. Yet it doesn’t seem as though the sawtute want to give him a choice.

“The boy is still with them.” The human boy. Spider. That is what Jake called him. A friend of the children since childhood. He was brought up in the ways of the Omatikaya, as close as the clan would allow, and now he has betrayed his people by serving the sawtute. His life matters to your children and so you are glad to know he lives, but he is still human. A plague upon Pandora.

“They’ll be here soon.” It is the truth you feel inside you, sounding as clear as your heartbeat as the Great Mother breathes the words into your spirit. Always listening. It is a tsahìk’s purpose. And these words you’ve heard countless times. Softly, like the whispers of the wind. But now they rush like blood in your ears.

It is the undeniable truth as plain as Naranawm’s blue eye in the sky. The humans are coming and they’ll be here soon. Even if they have to burn every village to the ground. The men look at you with fire in their eyes. A passion burns within them both; a need to protect. Now more than ever. Tonowari only nods at your grave words before departing. Jake ducks back inside but you remain just outside, feeling the warmth disappear from the air as the burning orange of the sun fades to the bluish darkness of night. The children will be returning soon but you can’t shake the cold hands of fear from your body. They linger over your heart and tie knots in your stomach, staving off any thoughts of joining your family for dinner. This family that you’ve only just become a part of.

“We need to do something.” Jake ignores your words, crouching down to continue cutting fruit as you’d been before Tonowari’s visit. There’s an irritated strength in each slice of the knife, scoring the slab of wood as he goes. “Jake, they are looking for you. We need to trap them. Kill them. Before these demons destroy anything else.” The knife is set down with a troubled growl.

“I know.” He seethes. “But we have to be smart. It isn’t just us that could get hurt if we attack.” You want to say more but Tuk comes skipping inside talking about a crab she saw today and the conversation is abandoned as the two of you try to rebuild the facade of safety around your children. But it begins to crumble each time your eyes meet. Bright yellow haunted with what’s to come clash with your gaze as a nauseating sort of anticipation fills you. Like waiting for a nightmare to begin.

The feeling never seems to pass.

Rain kisses against your skin in a warm spray. Not heavy enough to stir the waves, just enough to turn the sky to a dreary gray. Your feet sink into the damp sand as Jake leads you to where Ronal and Tonowari are waiting. A hunting party returned with news of an injured tulkun, but as soon as your eyes meet your sister’s, the air seems to shift. The wind feels sharper, the rain colder, and you shiver at the uncertainty in her eyes. Tonowari speaks but you can hardly hear him, his voice is like the crashing of waves after you’ve already dove beneath them, warbled and forgotten as you and Ronal share in your own silent conversation. She is your sister and that bond binds you close, but the lessons of your childhood have brought you even closer. The men speak with words as you open yourself to the Great Mother’s silent voice. She’s there in the wind, in the rain, in the sound of the waves.

Panic settles over you as you feel loss echoing through the air. Ronal must feel it too as she cuts her husband short to usher your small party into the ocean. Your tsurak croaks as you make tsaheylu, the feeling of fear that has settled in your chest echoing through the bond. It only grows more unsettling when Tonowari finally lands, the rest of you drawing in close behind. The orange spread of the tsurak’s wings are the only color over the bleak waters, drawn to darkness by the storm. Except for another spot of orange, brighter and uninterrupted by any pattern. It is startlingly out of place. Like a fire burning on the waves. Sawtute. Just as their light is strange and wrong–too bright–this color is greatly misplaced in the gathered pod of tulkun. One is unmoving among them, only shifting with the crest and fall of the water. Not injured. Dead.

Hì’ikran have already gathered, their small shadows swooping overhead and sharp cries cutting through the deep bellows of the mourning tulkun. The tiny banshees are already nipping at the tulkun as you move in closer. For a moment, you accept this as the way of things. There is balance in everything, even death. The hì’ikran must eat and here there is food. But your heart rejects the thought as soon as you are close enough to truly see the tulkun. Ronal makes a small, wounded noise just as your heart turns cold in your chest. The thumping beat of it stills to chilled silence as you lose yourself for a moment. Just long enough to fall from your skimwing. Your mount screeches as you plunge into the dark water, surfacing with a sputtering cry as you swim towards the tulkun.

Ronal is already there, hands pressed desperately against the unmoving creature. A feeling of hopelessness crashes over you like a heavy wave, threatening to drag you beneath its unmovable weight as your eyes flit wildly across Roa’s body. Those bright orange wings keep her above the water, embedded in her thick skin. Blood seeps in tepid rivers from the places the metal stabbed through her body. The hooks don’t move as you pull at them until your palms burn where the metal begins to wear against your skin. You fall back into the water, thrown off of her by the force of your own strength. A wordless shriek tears from your throat as you swipe at one of the bloated bags with your knife. It tears open and Roa sags, one of her fins beginning to sink. Her son, still tucked beneath it, begins vanishing as well.

He doesn’t look at you when you touch him, trying to pull him from under his mother’s unmoving body. He doesn’t offer those same shy clicks he’d given when you met him last. It rends a strangled sound from you. Wordless but understood as Ronal looks at you and the calf. She’s sitting on Roa’s forefin as she’s done so many times before. But the tulkun doesn’t greet her, doesn’t scold her son for his bashfulness. She simply floats, bloated eyes rolled towards the sky. Shot through with blood and unseeing as Ronal presses her forehead against her spirit sister. Despite the sudden cold of the rain and water there’s a warmth spreading through your body. A dangerous swirl of anger and grief, sadness and fear that is like a whirlpool in your chest, sucking away any clear thoughts. All you can see is Roa and her son. Dead. And your sister’s despair as she reaches for you through the water. Her hand shakes in yours but her grip is tight as if she will never let it go. Tears mingle with the rain as they drip down your cheeks. Everything feels too close and far away all at once. Like the ocean has disappeared and swallowed you whole.

“Her name is Roa.” Tonowari says at last, head bowed towards Jake. His tone is clipped with suppressed emotion though you can see it in his eyes. The sorrow, the stifled rage. He sets his lip in a harsh line and looks towards the horizon.

“She was my spirit sister.” Ronal’s voice is a watery croak. “She was the composer of songs. Much revered. We would sing together.”

“She waited many breeding cycles to have this calf.” You sob. He was so small, so young. He had many years ahead of him, a spirit brother to bond with, calves of his own to have. And yet it’s all been washed away in a moment. “The clan was so happy for her.”

“What is this, Tonowari?” Ronal turns to her mate, hand still tight around yours. “What is this?” She shrieks. The olo’eyktan bows his head in the face of his wife’s grief. Death is a heavy burden for anyone to bear but a tsahìk feels things with a strength beyond that of the People. A tsahìk feels all. And Roa was not simply a bonded member of the clan, but her spirit sister. This pain has bowed her over like a flower in the wind, petals fallen and stem broken. You feel it, as well, the deep, aching pain that refuses to pass.

“What have they done?” You shout, turning to Jake. The anger swelling in your chest has turned the plea to an accusation. It is the wrong place to rest your anger but there is no one else in sight for you to blame. He flinches and lowers his gaze but doesn’t move to comfort you. It reminds you how different you truly are. The ocean is deep and full of dangers. Jake has to cling to his tsurak to keep afloat. You’ve taught him well but not well enough to survive in the open oceans without an animal to guide him. A dark, ugly feeling rises like poison in your chest; regret. For allowing him to stay and cast this dark shadow.

The thought is there only for an instant before shock douses your wrath, snuffing it out before it can consume you in an inescapable blaze. It wasn’t Jake that killed Roa. It wasn’t your mate that brought you this pain. And even though you haven’t said anything out loud, for once you’re afraid that someone can see what is in your eyes because Jake urges his tsurak forward, out of your sight. It only causes your heart to sink lower in your chest. Ronal releases you with some hesitancy as you pull away from her hold to follow Jake. You watch his back as he bows under the shadow of Roa’s fin. He doesn’t go further than her side, eyes tracing over her body. He reaches for you as you swim to his side, pulling you into his arms.

There’s a comforting strength in his arms.

“My girl,” he says softly, the human words flowing off his tongue as he pulls you on to his mount. “I’m so sorry.”

“The sea gives and the sea takes.” It’s all you can say, words pounding in your head like a drum. It blocks out all else. The sea gives and the sea takes. Water connects all things. Life to death, darkness to light. These words are your way of life. As familiar as your own name. There’s comfort in their truth. Water cannot flow on forever and it’s here that Roa’s river empties into the vastness of the ocean to join the memories of her ancestors. They will sing her songs, remember her voice. She will never be truly gone. And yet it feels as though every trace of her will slip between your fingers the moment you turn your back to her. Tears still cloud your vision as you look at her prone body. There are more orange bags beneath her fins and a strange light like a white flame flickering over her back. A huge barb stands out against her dark scales, the needle plunged deep into her back.

“Ma Jake.” It is something alien. Something human. Bright red and flashing as it is. There’s a soft sound emanating from it like a bird’s chirp.

“Shit.” Jake curses. Always in English. He carefully climbs onto Roa’s back and you watch as his fingers dance over the strange object until it falls dark and silent. He pulls it from the space between her scales. You shrink away when he brings it for you to see, wholly uninteresting in being so close to their strange tools.

“It’s a tracker.” He says as Tonowari rounds Roa’s body. His eyes trail over her before settling on the metal thing in Jake’s hand. You leave them to talk over what the tracker could mean. They’ve moved on from this but you’ll stay if only for a few moments longer. This will be the last time you see Roa and you want to remember it for a little while longer.

It’s quiet as you sink beneath the waves, skin coming to life with dots of pale light as you swim beneath Roa’s shadow. Your fingers trace against her skin, finding the shapes of her tattoos across her pale underbelly. They tell a story of her life. Each mark etched into her skin like the bead of a songcord. Ronal is there as well, staring at the tattoos. Her eyes hold steady on the twin flowers blooming from a single vine. The same ink that trails along Veyan’s side. Both tulkun had gotten the tattoos to commemorate their bond with you and Ronal. You wonder if Veyan felt Roa’s death as the two of you had. If she is somewhere mourning the loss of a sister.

«We must lay her to rest.» Ronal nods, neither of you mentioning that she will hardly be given the traditional funeral rites. She’ll be sunk here in the open water. Far from the tulkun resting grounds. The water is deep and dark. No anemones bright as sunlight dance in the gentle current below. Still Ronal unsheathes her blade and nods for you to do the same. The orange wings fold in on themselves, spewing out air as Roa begins to sink. Her son falls beside her and the two of you follow them down as far as you dare, watching their silhouettes disappear into the deep. There’s a burst of light when they finally land, stirring up stray flashes of syuratan. The tulkun begin to sing their bellowing mourning song. It rings through your head, echoing through the journey back to shore. Heavy and sorrowful as they sing about their sister. The clan will mourn too.

The rain falls heavier as Tonowari calls the village to order in the central marui. There’s a restless sort of energy flowing like lapping waves through the crowd as Ronal pulls you to stand beside her and Tonowari.

“My spirit sister and her baby have been murdered by the sky people!” Hushed sounds of anguish rush through the air, mournful yipping and defensive hisses.

“This war has come to us. We knew about the hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon. Far away. Now, it is here!” Tonowari’s voice booms through the marui, crashing like thunder over the People as he declares war on the sawtute. Others join in his show of aggression, teeth and tongues bared in fierce war faces. Upset turns to aggression as growls ripple through the crowd, spears thumping and eyes flashing with a need for retribution. Jake’s eyes pass over the crowd with a look of distress.

“The sky people don’t think like us. They don’t care about the great balance.” He tries to reason.

“We do not answer to sky people!” A hunter shouts. Jake’s nose scrunches in distaste, a shadow casting over his eyes as his brows furrow.

“They’re not going to stop. This is only the beginning. You have to tell your tulkun to leave. Tell them to go far away!”

“Leave?” You hiss. How could he say such a thing? The tulkun are part of the clan. To tell them to leave would be to sever the bond that has held strong for so many generations.

“You live among us and you learned nothing!” Ronal shouts. Others second her words, the shows of aggression only spreading further. Half of the crowd has shifted their weight into a lower stance, preparing for a fight that will soon be on the horizon.

“No! Hear my words! If you fight they will destroy you. They will destroy everything that you love!” Jake points to Ronal, still heavy with child, but his eyes linger on you. There’s sincerity there. A hope that this battle will not come to pass. You hiss at him, baring your fangs. He may be your mate but you cannot stand beside him in this. Roa and her child must be avenged. No more villages will be burned. No more lives will be lost. Ronal’s hand covers her stomach, face falling from anger to disbelief. Her child has not even taken their first breath and Jake dares to threaten them with the violence of these demons.

“Hear my words!” Jake shouts over the uproar but no one will heed his warnings. The time for peace has passed. An unbounded tulkun being lost could be ignored, but this was a bonded member of the Metkayina. The spirit sister of the tsahìk. Her death will not be forgotten and the clan will not be deterred. No matter who he turns to, no one will listen to Jake. He may have been olo’eyktan once but his voice holds no weight here. Not when it is so plainly clear that he does not understand your way of life. You thought that you had taught him well. That he was becoming one with the clan. But it’s clear that you had been wrong in your assumption. His eyes are pleading as he looks to you, begging your word to second his. When you don’t raise your voice to support him he hisses indignantly and snatches the strange tracker from Neteyam’s hand, cursing in English. A hush falls over the crowd as he raises it above his head, everyone falling still at the sight of the alien object. An arm pulls you away from Jake as he climbs up next to Tonowari, Ronal keeping you close at her side as her other hand holds her mate’s arm.

“You tell the tulkun that if they’re hit by one of these they’re marked for death. Call for me I’ll silence it. Saving their lives, that’s all that matters. Right? Saving your family.” He says, eyes landing on you and your sister. His words seem to soothe the People. Everyone lingers in the silence, unsure if this moment of peace will last. Tonowari turns to the two of you but you look away from him. The anger you felt when you first saw Roa’s body is beginning to creep up again, embers turning to a blazing flame. You want to fight. It is what is right after losing a member of the clan in such a brutal way. But Jake knows things that the rest of you don’t. If he says that a war with the sky people will only bring death, you’re inclined to believe him. If Toruk Makto isn’t certain of victory, then perhaps the battle should not be fought at all. Ronal shifts next to you before an unspoken decision passes between her and Tonowari.

“Tell the tulkun.” His word is final and yet no one moves.

“Go.” Ronal says and the tension releases at last. “Go!” The People begin to disperse and Jake goes with them.

“Jake.” He doesn’t turn even as you follow his retreating back. “Ma Jake.” He stops only when you run in front of him, blocking his path forward with your hands flat against his chest. He frowns at you, jaw clenched tight as his yellow eyes spear you in place. He’s angry. But so are you.

“I will not stand and do nothing!” His hand grips your wrist and pulls you away from the marui still crowded with people. He doesn’t speak until the two of you are in the privacy of his home, the children still missing in all the chaos.

“Jake!” His grip isn’t tight and is easily broken when you wrench your arm free of him. He doesn’t let you go further than a few steps before he’s clinging to you again, hands holding your shoulders to keep your eyes steady on him.

“Ma muntxate,” he says slowly, “listen to me now.” His tone is that of a scolding parent and you feel your lip twitch, wanting to hiss at him once more. His lips press against yours before you can. It’s a grounding sort of intimacy. Soft and searching as each of you pour your feelings into each other. Your anger and grief mingles with his caution and fear.

“Listen to me. Humans have been hunting tulkun for a long time. This is the first time they’ve ever been so blatant about it, leaving Roa the way they did. They’re not hunting tulkun. That was a show of power. They’re hunting me. And if we fight back it will lead them right to us. I can’t let that happen. Just trust me on this, okay?” He tucks a limp strand of hair behind your drooping ear, fingers caressing your cheeks still damp with rain and tears.

“So we must sit and do nothing?” It’s unthinkable. Roa and her child have been lost and he is asking you to stay idle as their murderers kill more tulkun. How long until Veyan is lost? Until Tsireya’s spirit sister is attacked. The tulkun will be thinning like harvested roots until there are none left. Then what will happen to the Great Mother’s balance? It isn’t the way of things and you won’t stand by as Eywa mourns the untimely death of another of her children felled by the sky people.

“Look, I’ve got nothing. But this will protect the People. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. If we fight, Na’vi will die.”

“And if we don’t, tulkun will die. Needlessly. A life lost at war is a sacrifice for the People. One that every warrior is willing to make. One that I am willing to make.” Jake winces at your words. “I’m sorry, Jake, but it is the truth. I am Metkayina. We fight to protect our brothers and sisters. This is the way. I thought you had learned that by now. How can you say you will not fight? You’re Toruk Makto.” So few have emerged since the First Songs, and only in times of great sorrow. He is a warrior of legend and yet here he sits, refusing to fight as if the mantle can so easily be removed. His name will be woven into songs for generations to come. What will they say of this battle? That he stood aside and let the sawtute terrorize the atolls that gave his family solace in their time of need?

“I told Ronal and Tonowari; I’m done with war. I did not lie about that. I came here for a life of peace.”

“And is that peace not worth fighting to protect when it is threatened? Ma Jake, the Great Mother chose you for something. She has protected and guided you. Do not let her efforts be in vain.” He moves to say something but his brow twitches as the small object in his ear buzzes to life. His hand reaches for yours as he listens to the low noises.

“Lo’ak?” He asks, pressing his fingers against his neck where an unbeaded choker sits above the necklace you recently made for him. More quiet humming follows until he asks, “Who’s with you?” Another beat of silence, then, “You get to cover and you do not engage. All right? You hear me? Do not engage. We’re coming.”

“Ma Jake, what is wrong?” He’s already moving, pulling you out of the marui.

“The kids are in danger. Ao’nung and Tsireya are with them.” You look around at the people passing, calling warriors to your side as you rush to Ronal and Tonowari.

“Is Rotxo with them?” You ask, not seeing his cropped hair as you pass by his family’s marui.

“He said it was all of them. Come on!” Ronal and Tonowari look relatively peaceful despite the day’s events. Your sister cutting fruit and Tonowari repairing a net as the group you’ve gathered comes running up the path to their home, whooping out war cries that gain their attention. Ronal is on her feet in an instant, knife still in hand.

“The kids are under attack. They’re defending a tulkun. It’s your kids too!”

“The demon ship?” Tonowari asks.

“Yes! Hurry up, we have to move!” Jake leaves you to your own, nearly abandoned marui, returning with weapons of his own. Your spear feels strange in your hands after years of disuse. Hunting has never been something you were suited to but this weapon had become an extension of your body as you blossomed into adulthood. Years of learning the clan’s traditions have given you the strength to wield it but it has never felt as heavy as it does now with anger running in your veins like burning rivers of fire. Whatever peace you’d quieted your mind to was shattered the moment your family was put in danger and the rage rolls through you like thunder. There’s a restlessness in your body like you’re filled with a roiling tide, hands shaking as you grip tight to your weapons until your knuckles pale and your body stills to the lethal stillness of a proper Metkayina warrior. Jake returns just as you duck back into the passing storm. The sky has begun to lighten as the reef fills with the clan and their mounts all screeching out deafening war cries, weapons poised to attack.

“Come here,” Jake stops you before you can rush past him. His hand linger on your skin after he puts a matching choker around your neck, fingers pushing back your hair as he puts that strange ornament in your ear.

“Press here when you want to talk.” He says, leading your fingers to the two pads of the necklace. “I’ll be able to hear you wherever you are. Lo’ak has one, too. If we’re apart, hold here and I’ll hear you.” He holds your gaze for a beat longer, speaking without words. He’s afraid. He’s angry. The man before you is no longer just Jakesully. He is truly Toruk Makto.

“Come. We must hurry.” You push past him to call for your tsurak. These demons have trampled their way across Pandora and arrived so near to your home. And now they’ve threatened your childrens’ lives. The lives of your niece and nephew. After killing Ronal’s spirit sister. A need to avenge laces through your body like bolts of white lightning, sharp, bitter, and burning as you add your own shrieking cries to the din. You ride at the head of the party, beside your sister with Jake and Tonowari at your flanks.

It isn’t long to Three Brothers Rocks, the towering stone fingers appear over the horizon with the demon ship beneath their shadow. It is larger than any human invention you’ve ever seen, like a metal island floating in the waves. It is too far to see every detail but your eyes catch the unfocused shapes of humans skittering across the ship like bugs, their faces covered in those familiar shells. It wouldn’t take much to break it, to fill their lungs with the air of your planet. So much of Pandora is hostile even to natives and yet they think they can tame her. Soon they will learn. Some lessons must be taught more than once.

“They’ve got our kids.” Jake says. “Your daughter. Tuk. Lo’ak.” Tonowari growls, voice scorched with hostility. Ronal’s hiss is nearly a whimper, nearly identical to your own.

“Jake,” a voice crackles to life in your ear, sounding far off and nothing like Lo’ak’s. You press the strange piece of metal closer to your ear as the voice continues. They’re speaking English and you haven’t learned nearly enough from Jake and the children to fully grasp what’s being said. Only a few stray words are recognized.

“What is he saying?” You ask, eyes flitting desperately between Jake and the ship. Whoever it is means to harm your family. That much you know even without understanding every word. Everyone’s eyes fall to Jake.

“Hold here.” He says at last.

“They are killers of tulkun.” Tonowari stops him before he can go further. “They must die. Here. Today.” These murderers must restore the great balance with their own blood. A thousand of their lives are less valued here than one of a single tulkun. The killing of even one was a declaration of war. No more lives will fall to their greed. Not if you can kill them where they stand.

“It’s me that they want. That’s what all this has been about. Let me do this.”

“You brought this upon us!” Ronal bites out. Her gaze flickers between you and your mate as if unsure of who her anger should scorch first. It was you that spoke for him when she wanted to deny his family sanctuary. This could have been avoided had you held your tongue. But whatever happens, this is the path you’ve chosen to walk. It seems Jake has accepted his fate as well.

“It’s me that has to do this.” The voice returns but none of his words make sense. Jake’s voice echoes in your ear as he answers, English flowing easily from his tongue. He gives you a parting glance before leading his tsurak forward.

“Jake!” Ronal stops you from following with her spear across your stomach.

“You stay. He has brought this storm over our heads. Let him be the one to quell it.” Your sister says. Her eyes hold flecks of sympathy but it is overshadowed by her need to protect. She is tsahìk. Eywa has chosen her to keep peace and balance. Jake’s life may be enough to free your children and turn the sawtute away from the Metkayina atolls. It is a sacrifice she is willing to make for peace.

“Ronal.” You can’t watch your mate give himself over to those demons just as much as you can’t watch your clan fall to their hands. It feels as though your soul is tearing in two. A tsakarem protects her people, protects the great balance. But a mate protects their muntxatu. You grip her spear, ready to push it aside and defy her once more just as something breaks through the waves up ahead. A tulkun rises from the water, crashing down over the demon ship with a ferocious bellow. Payakan.

The bugs begin to scatter aboard their ship and a screeching war cry tears from your lips, calling the rest of the clan to join. It calls the humans’ attention and they turn their eyes to the clan closing in on them. Teeth bared and weapons raised.

Their guns are loud. It sounds like a hail of heavy rainfall as they turn their guns on you but they’re nearly silent beneath the water as you urge your tsurak to dive. Their tiny metal arrows hiss through the water in cloudy streams, too slow to do harm even as so many fall around you. It’s as if they’re coming from all sides as the shadows of their smaller boats pass overhead, lit by the red bursts of light that follow each fire of their guns. They’re easy to see and hard to lose. Hunting animals is harder than spotting a human with a gun. You rise from the water as another ship draws in close. One of them shouts as you arc overhead, a pained yowl leaving their lips as your spear tears through their chest. If they were alive when you dove back into the water they’ll die soon enough as you kick their limp body off of your blade. One life has been avenged. Still more to reap.

The sounds of death fill the air as the ocean is stained with more blood but it hardly brings relief. It is the same as the sound of a wounded animal. A death with a purpose. It is what you remind yourself as their empty eyes gaze up at you before their life is snuffed out. It is for a greater purpose. One they could never understand. The great balance is something these demons could never grasp. Some learn. They haven’t. This is the way. And it is good.

A hunter strives for clean kills. Needless suffering is not needed to kill a prey. The humans make mercy simple as their soft bodies burst like dropped fruit under your blade, crystal spearhead cleaving through their bodies wherever you strike. They cry out in warbled shouts for only a moment before falling silent. “Please” is a word you recognize but pay no heed to. The tulkun that they murdered surely begged for their lives as well. Your tsurak lets out a shrieking cry as you breach over another boat, its teeth tearing into whatever comes between its jaws.

Neteyam’s wound pales in comparison to the deep fissures your mount carves out of the human, their skin turning to ribbons in the animal’s sharp teeth. But he isn’t dead. You flinch back as he swings a knife at you, the blade small enough for a child. It feels strange to touch him as you catch his wrist when he swings again. You hadn’t touched Max, hadn’t touched any human. The feeling is strange and new. His body is oddly pliant, soft enough for you to feel his bones shift beneath your fingers as your grip on his wrist tightens until he drops his blade. His eyes are blank of any inner glow–his soul hidden or absent completely–but his face curls in terror as his weapon falls.

“Txopu rä’ä si, vrrteptsyìp.” He begins to cry, tears shining in his eyes as you yip and plunge your tsurak back into the water. He isn’t dead but he is close enough as blood streaks your mount’s maw. Streams of red fill the water as the clan makes quick work of the humans in the smaller boats, yet they still move with no guide. A burst of heat singes across your skin as an empty boat crashes into a stone outcropping in a cloud of flaming smoke, the metal crumpling like a teylu shell as it folds itself around the black stone. Dark clouds rise from the water where other boats have caught fire, some still carrying screaming sawtute. You watch a hunter rise from the water to meet them as they crawl out of the flames, spear tearing through two at a time before the third is met with his knife.

Their numbers are becoming fewer, but so are yours as riders are shot from their mounts under the endless downpours of their metal rain. A shout leaps from your lungs as one grazes your arm, hardly enough to truly harm you but it feels like a burning stone has passed over your skin. The ocean stings against the shallow wound as you dive out of danger. The pain is hardly more than a dull prickling but others aren’t as lucky as bodies float around you. Brave warriors lost so that this battle can be won. Each of them will be mourned in turn but not now. You blink away the heat of the tears threatening to rise behind your eyelids and focus on the war still raging just over your head.

The thin shafts of your spear arrows bend under your tight grip as your eyes find another boat floating overhead. The metal husk is caught in flames as the humans abroad rush to put out the fire. It will be of no use as one of your spear tears through their bodies. Their heads barely turned to the sound of your war cry before screams of their own join yours as blood bursts from their pierced chests. More dead but you may be joining them as a third appears, gun in hand. Your tsurak rears back, catching the shots in its chest. The pain echoes through tsaheylu, carving a burning ache between your ribs as your mount’s jaw closes around the human’s head in a final act of retribution. It rears back with a muffled screech, tossing the three of you out of the flaming boat. You’re only thrown as far as a stone outcropping as tsaheylu breaks and your tswin is freed from the bond. The stony shore scrapes at your skin but you roll to your knees with the momentum. Without your skimwing you’re stranded in the middle of a battle with only a few spear arrows in hand and your knife on your hip.

The dark stone hardly conceals your vibrant body and you slink back into the water, still keeping close to shore. Smoke fills the air with thick, grayish clouds that blot out the sky and everything has taken on the flickering color of flames. Most of the metal boats are destroyed or empty, a few unmoving bodies still aboard. The demon ship is in flames as well and the humans are scattering to smaller boats. They’re leaving. Abandoning their ship and this war that they’ve called upon themselves. Their shouts echo across the open water but from this distance you could never hope to understand their words. You hope they are laments of defeat and promises of renouncing their attempted claim on Pandora. To continue will only bring them more death at your peoples’ hands. Because more lives have been lost than just tulkun. Their fingers spread across Eywa’eveng like poisonous roots, digging deep and stripping all that they touch. Leaving would be best.

Your head falls back against the rocks behind you, eyes facing the hazy sky. It is nearly eclipse. Soon the battlefield will fall into a blue-lit night. Your eyes will not be burdened by the darkness but humans aren’t so lucky. They should leave, you think tiredly. Return to that distant star in the night sky. Your body aches and your heart hurts. You can’t imagine what more pain they’ll bring if they stay. There’s blood on your hand as you lift it from the water, patches of red that the ocean couldn’t wash away. Your hand trembles as you stare at it, trying to decide if the blood is yours or another’s. It hardly matters as you press your bloody fingers to your throat like Jake showed you.

“Jake.” Half of you expects your only answer to be silence. Or that unknown voice that stole Lo’ak’s necklace.

“I hear you.” His voice sings through you. He’s alive.

“My tsurak is dead. I’ve lost my spear.” Your voice sounds tired even to your own ears. Low and gruff as you inhale another breath of smoky air. Exertion burns in your legs and your tail feels bruised as you keep yourself afloat. The moment of stillness has brought you back to yourself, steadied your mind enough to feel your body. No longer numbed by the instinct to fight, the aches and pains of battle slowly make themselves known until even the tips of your ears are throbbing. But now isn’t the time for pain. There will be time to nurse your wounds once the battle is won.

“Where are you?” Jake asks, his voice pitching with panic. You move to answer only to stop short as a large shadow swoops overhead. You sink beneath the surface as an ikran flies through the clouds of smoke, a figure hanging in its claws. Their words are muffled beneath the water but you recognize the sound of your daughter’s voice. Jake calls your name, it rings in your ear but you don’t answer. Your spear arrows are tossed ashore as you fill your lungs with acrid air before diving after the banshee. As quick as you are in the water, you’re not nearly as fast as the ikran and you watch from a short distance as Kiri is dropped aboard the demon ship. You rise to take a breath, eyes desperately searching for a way in that isn’t through the throng of demon warriors still leaving the burning ship. A flash of blue catches your eye as two bright silhouettes board the ship, crouching low as they move further inside. Tuk and Tsireya. Now you have two more reasons to board the demons’ ship.

This metal does not burn when you press your palms against it like it had in your vision at the Ranteng Utralti. Instead it reminds you of stones cooled in the shadows as you leave wet footprints in your wake. Even as the humans disappear the ship has not fallen silent. It groans and shrieks out in a monotonous trill as a red light winks in and out of the flooding rooms. Soon the ocean will swallow it whole and whoever’s left will sink with it. You don’t intend for this place to be your resting place. The humans make it easy as you slink through the underbelly of their ship. Shadows pass over you inattentively. A child has more sense than these demons. Even the uniltìrantokx do not seem to know how to use their bodies. Their ears don’t move toward the muted sound of your footsteps, their nose doesn’t scent the smell of blood clinging to your skin.

They all simply meander, guns poised loose and useless as you slink past, careful of the debris scattered across the floor. Your silence is unnecessary as the warriors stir up enough noise to cover each of your footsteps. Their voices twitter like birds as they mill around with little regard to your shape moving through the shadows just beyond their sight. Their voices echo through the metal walls along with that shrieking noise. It keeps time like a drum as your eyes search for the children in every space you pass. There are so few people still aboard that their voices stand out in the din of the sinking ship. Soft and frantic rather than loud and self-assured. You move towards the sound of their voices like a stalking nantang, your fingertips pressing into the floor as you move on all fours. Your hand finds a broken piece of the ship. Thin and hollowed, the ends broken to jagged points. It’s not nearly long enough to mimic a spear but the shape and weight of it offers some reassurance as you emerge from the shadows, keen on getting the girls off this demon ship.

Tsireya and Tuk are crouched next to Kiri, trying to cut her free. You wait for the next beat of the ship’s shrieking before letting out a sharp yip. Kiri’s ear twitches towards the sound. You match another shriek with your own, your voice ringing out in time with the strange noise. Tuk jumps, eyes looking around as she hears your voice echo through the air.

“It’s Sa’nu!” She says quietly. Kiri nods, shifting restlessly as Tsireya’s knife makes little progress on her bindings.

“Cut it here.” Kiri corrects her, holding out the thin orange material as best she can. All their heads are bowed low, watching the bindings begin to give. You move towards them slowly, only stopping as more humans and uniltìrantokx come into view. You leap from the large metal box you’d been crouched upon, bringing your makeshift spear down hard on a warrior’s head. It makes a sickening cracking sound as blood rushes to the surface of their cropped hair. You swing again and their mask shatters, blood bursting from their crumpled nose. He gasps for air and you watch as Pandora poisons his lungs before moving on to the next. An uniltìrantokx raises their gun and you duck away from the hail of their fire to the sound of Tuk calling for you. A voice follows hers. One that is vaguely familiar. The same voice that has buzzed in your ear before the battle began.

I want her, you recognize the words if only barely. Alive. The guns fall silent. You dare to glance towards the girls only to see an uniltìrantokx grab Tsireya’s wrist and toss her off a ledge. The breath stills in your lungs as you pray to not hear the horrible sound of your niece’s body landing far below. Instead there’s a splash. He’s tossed her overboard. Thrown her to safety. The voice speaks again and you hear one of your girls hiss.

“Are you a Sully?” The voice shouts in broken Na’vi. A child is more eloquent and you don’t deign to answer. You aren’t called Sully. It isn’t your family name. But Jake has told you that human traditions are different. You would not be called mates on Earth. You’d be married and he’d give you his name. But you are not on Earth and he is no longer human. Such things mean nothing here.

“Demon!” You shout back. “Release my children.” It’s doubtful that he understands Na’vi any more than you understand his Earth language, but you won’t embarrass yourself as he has by struggling to string words together.

“You are a Sully.” He says with a mirthful tone. His next words seem to be directed towards the people around him and you tense for another rain of gunfire. Instead there’s the echoing thud of their heavy foot-coverings against the creaking metal floor as they seem to close in. The sounds are muted but your ears have learned to recognize even the smallest noises. Even the faintest snap of a twig in the forest could mean death if you aren’t an attentive hunter. It has never been your strongest suit but as the smell of their sweat begins to fill your nose as your ears twitch towards each new footfall you realize your weakest trait is still stronger than whatever they’re capable of. At least you hope it is. When the first warrior rounds the bend towards you you’re poised and waiting. His legs buckle as you sweep them from beneath him with a swift kick. He lands with a shout, his gun jumping from his hand. You kick it further from his reach as you round on the next target. A human warrior. Easier to deal with. He’s learned from the last human warrior you took down and ducks when you swing towards his head with your metal spear. You swing again, lower than he can duck and slash open the thick armor over his chest. It spills out white fibers that float like pollen in the air.

The uniltìrantokx–their leader it would seem–barks another order and more of his warriors descend upon you like a cloud blocking out the sun. There are a few more wounds inflicted by your hand before you’re disarmed, someone’s arms hooked beneath yours with their hands clasped behind your head. You feel their knitted fingers digging into your skull, pressing against your tswin. A hiss falls from your lips as he catches your thrashing tail between his legs when you manage to swing your hips and knock back a human that moved too close. The pain is a dull ache that thrums at the base of your spine but it doesn’t stop you from kicking as you’re dragged from your secluded corner into the full light of the fading sun. Eclipse is approaching fast and the warm light spills across the sinking ship, all of its metal innards limned in firelight. The uniltìrantokx that has you in his grip laughs as you thrash in his arms, flexing his arms to tighten his hold on you. You feel like a freshly caught fish dangling in a fisherman’s net. A snarl finds your lips to mask the shame as the leader of this war band approaches you with the saunter of a seasoned warrior despite his young appearance. He shouldn’t be so assured as he leans down to meet your gaze.

“You are Jake’s woman, yes? Mate?” He asks. Whoever this man is, he knows Jake. Your mate never spoke of the war that he won all those years ago. The songs only praise Jake. He is Toruk Makto. A dreamwalker that became one of the People. But this man carrying himself as if he is a true Na’vi, wearing the skin of your people, must have been a part of the story he’s never told. From the time before the songs begin. He asks again, slower, as if you’re a child needing time to understand. As if he isn’t the one speaking like a baby.

“Yes.” You bite out in English. That word you know.

He huffs out a dry chuckle, “Good.” The smile that finds his lips is nothing short of predatory, his fangs catching the flashing light of the ship. He stands back to his full height and nods to the man still holding you back from attacking this uniltìrantokx with teeth and claws. The warrior at your back drags you to the ledge where Kiri and Tuk are bound and kicks at the back of your knees. You’re expecting it and your knees buckle but you don’t fall. He kicks again, harder this time, and you go down with a shout. But he doesn’t bind you as he did the children. Instead their strange orange binding is lashed to your upper arm, luckily leaving your injured arm free. You tug against the restraint as he ties you to the ship and the material bites into your skin. If you pull hard enough you’ll bleed where the edges dig into the rippling shapes decorating your arm. Tuk is quick to move towards you, tucking her body as close to your chest as her bound arms will allow. Kiri moves closer behind until she’s leaning against your back as you hug Tuk to your chest.

“Sa’nok, your knife.” Kiri whispers. The warriors are inattentive, talking amongst themselves as if you’re of no threat to them. They hadn’t even bothered to disarm you or even search for any weapons. Perhaps they expect your comparatively sparse coverings to be incapable of concealing anything. And yet they’ve missed the knife still sheathed behind you, hidden beneath the thick waves of your damp hair. With a free arm and a weapon you could break free of your bindings but how quick would these demons fall upon you and your daughters. You only managed to fight against them for a few moments, injuring only a few before you were caught. Perhaps you could free Tuk and Kiri but they seem to think they need the three of you. Need people tied to Jake.

“Not yet.” You try to keep the exhaustion from your voice as you squint against a sudden burst of light as eclipse closes in. A blue glow overtakes the last dregs of the amber glow of the sun and your skin flickers to life. The humans seem to draw in closer to each other, weary of the night even as the ship is still filled with false torchlight. Only their leader still stands alone. He guards the empty space between you and his warriors as you keep close to your children. His footfalls don’t have the same weight to them as he paces barefoot across the groaning metal. The pool behind you is steadily filling with water. The ship is sinking and if you don’t move soon it will take you and your girls with it. Your fingers twitch, eager to grab your blade, only stopped when the leader begins to speak again. Half of his words are lost to you but some are caught with the small knowledge you’ve collected.

“I’ve got your daughters.” He sounds proud, taunting. “I’ve got your woman.” You hiss but keep still as the warriors turn towards the sound of your protest. They don’t look so worried now. The woman among them, arms covered in colorful tattoos, chuckles. She pushes out her bottom lip like a disgruntled child, mocking you. You bare your fangs with a snarl and she returns the gesture, though her hiss is hardly intimidating. Kiri snorts softly beside you, equally as unimpressed with these false-bodied warriors. The lead uniltìrantokx keeps up his taunting but your focus stays on the female warrior as her tail curls playfully behind her. She’s enjoying this.

“You will never be one of the People.” You mutter. She snorts at that. Her jovial disposition disturbs you. You’ve taken many lives today but you took pleasure in none of it. It is the same as hunting. These kills were a necessity. This dreamwalker seems content to cause harm for her pleasure. You can See it in her eyes. Human eyes are empty. But she isn’t entirely human anymore. It’s barely a flicker of light but you catch the thread of amusement and it curls in your stomach like acid. Demons. All of them. She only looks away when one of them barks out some clipped words and they all begin to move in step, perching with their guns raised as they wait for something. No, someone. Their lively mood drops into a somber silence as they lie in wait for Jake. Even the humans know to fear Toruk Makto.

Their leader’s mood hasn’t shifted. He still sounds so assured as his voice hums in your ear. He hasn’t moved out of your line of sight as the others have and he’s gone back to pacing as they wait. He says something you don’t quite understand but Tuk and Kiri do. Your youngest looks up at you with eyes full of fear. Whatever he’s said has scared her. She looks under your arm towards the rapidly rising water that’s slowly filling the room below, overtaking the limits of the pool. Her breathing picks up as she shifts anxiously. You draw her head against your chest, letting her listen to the steady beat of your heart only for it to stutter as you hear his next words.

“Your boy didn’t have to die.” It’s hardly understood but it settles like stones in your heart.

Your boy, he said. Die. Your eyes cut towards him, ears drawn tight to your skull as the words echo in your head. Your boy. Die. One of your sons has died. Neteyam is dead. Lo’ak is dead. Your son is dead. Your boy is dead.

Your breaths begin to come in huffs like a chuffing pale as you breathe deep through your nose. It does little to soothe your anger but it’s all you can hear. Your labored breath and your heated blood rushing through your ears. Your heart beat thuds steadily like the beat of a drum. Keeping time as you draw your knife from behind your back. The crystal blade cuts through your bindings with ease. You’re free. The man is still talking, eyes looking towards the horizon as he taunts your mate. His voice is still in your ear but you can hardly hear anything outside of yourself. It’s only the sound of your breath, the beat of your heart. There are no thoughts in your head and yet your body moves. You feel yourself taking staggering steps towards the uniltìrantokx, your knife gripped tight in hand. Heat drips down your cheeks as your vision swirls. The man before you wavers as tears cloud your vision, his back still towards you. He doesn’t hear your footsteps, doesn’t feel the waves of rage cresting over him as your shadow flickers across his back. You raise your blade to strike only to be swept off your feet and tossed away from him.

For a moment, you’re weightless. Then your body is met with the floor. Pain throbs through your back as scraps of the ship dig into your spine. The space above you swoops and dives like a bird before settling as your vision steadies with a dull throb thrumming in the back of your head. But the pain hardly touches you. It feels like when you fell from a tree as a child. The air is punched from your lungs and you roll to your knees with heaving breaths. Whatever that was has thrown you into a lower area of the ship. Your fingers sift through blood and those same crystal shards from your vision as you push yourself upright, stumbling only slightly. The tiny chips dig into the soles of your feet as you retrace your steps to get back to your daughters. Too much has been lost. You can’t lose anything else. Not today. You find your knife and then a lost spear as you move through the ship. It’s sized to someone taller than you but it will do fine as you follow the shadows moving through the smoke and fire.

They no longer look like people. Even the uniltìrantokx begin to lose shape in your eyes, becoming faceless entities. Empty and spiritless. Abominations. Demons. Disgusting mockeries of your People meant to be killed without mercy. You will show them none. The ground is hot beneath your feet, metal finally beginning to burn after another fire burst to life. It’s startled the last threads of the human plague and you’ll use their fear against them.

The clouds of smoke and dimmed light hides you in plain sight. A spine is separated, ribs shattered, as your spear cleaves through the back of an uniltìrantokx. They shout, spewing out blood. It splatters across your face like warm rain as you heave the spear over your head, tossing their body off of your blade. The rest of the bugs are scattering under the light of the flaming rain. Another bursts open as you leap from the darkness. One end of the spear kills one and with a twirl the other end tears through another. The little ones are easier to kill even as they point their guns at you. You swing up and open one of them from groin to face, shattering their mask before pushing them aside to find something else to kill. A shadow moves behind you but they don’t feel faceless. You know their presence. Another hail of gunfire illuminates the silhouette in bursts of reddish light. He only glances at you for a second before throwing a spear of his own at you. You duck with a hiss as it flies past you, landing with a wet thud as it finds the stomach of another uniltìrantokx just behind you. His hands close around the shaft, fingers knotted tight as he tries to pull it out before going limp. When you turn, whoever threw the spear is already gone. Something tugs at your heart and the haze settled over your mind shifts for only a moment before snapping back into place as guns fire forehead.

Arrows would be better. Would keep you further from the touch of these demons, but the spear is all you have. You swing with vengeful shouts that grate in your throat, burning as smoke fills your lungs. Three more. They turn to the sound of your landing. Tiny things. Easily killed. One. Two. Three. The third gets stuck on your spear, his hands blood-slicked hands clawing at the wood as your foot presses into his stomach. He won’t be moved. Your knife finds his throat to silence his screams. A mercy he shouldn’t be afforded. One moves behind you, crawling as he clutches the wound you’ve cleaved through his side. It’s leaking rivers of blood so thick that survival will be impossible and yet you can’t stop yourself from leaping onto his back. His frail body gives way under your weight and you finish him with your blade in his back. Puncturing through his lungs as you would an animal. That is all these things are. Invasive animals. A scourge needing to be held at bay.

A hand meets your shoulder and you hardly move as they try to pull you away from the body still trapped beneath you. When you turn the force of it throws them aside. Another tawtute. Another vrrtep. You hiss, or perhaps you scream. It may be both as your knife tears through their soft body. Once. Twice. Again and again until your hand is wet with their blood. Their eyes are empty of anything as you scream. How dare they touch you. Touch your son. Your planet. You shriek and it shatters through the air like a crash of thunder. Everything has gone still. The air crackles with the sound of fire, embers still falling through the darkness as the ship groans lowly. Metal. Dead earth. Everything around you is dead. And yet it is not enough. Your eyes drag through the darkness, looking for any sign of life. There’s no direction to your footsteps as you stagger through the water and blood splatters underfoot but you find your spear, still stuck in the collapsed human. You set your weight on his stomach and his blood rushes between your toes as you wrench the weapon from his prone body. It tears free with a crack, the blue crystal blade hanging loose and useless where the shaft has snapped in the middle. It hits the ground with a dull ring as you let it slip from your fingers. Knife still in hand you stagger through the darkness in search of… something. Your mind has gone blank. As clouded as the smoke swirling around you. You follow the sound of voices. Eyes fixed ahead. Half of the ship has been lost to the water and it feels like the gentlest kiss as you wade towards the figures still wavering in your eyes. Your mind begins to steady as your senses return.

You can smell blood and the ocean. Feel the waves against your skin. Hear the words being spoken.

“–don’t hurt her!” Your eyes find the figure of a small human. Blue streaks across his pale skin, most of it exposed save for the tewng he is wearing. There are beads in his loc’d hair. A strange mix of human and Na’vi as the pack on his back hisses minutely as he speaks. The beads of his armband shift as you grab him with enough force that he spins to face you.

“Vrrteptsyìp!” You snarl at him. His brown eyes widen as he stares up at you. Your fingers tighten around your knife as you raise it to strike only to stop as he keeps his eyes on you. Fear. It’s as clear as Naranawm shining overhead. He’s afraid. And you can see it in his eyes. You can See it.

“What trick is this?” You hiss, the point of your blade biting into his neck. A trail of blood blooms and falls, streaking through the blue stripes that mark his body like war paint.

“Sa’nok, don’t kill him! Please, don’t kill him.” Kiri begs. The uniltìrantokx holding her beneath his knife says something. His eyes fixed on you. They’re empty. But his tone sounds shaken. As if he is forcing himself to stay calm and flippant as he has been. But his eyes don’t move from you or the tawtute still in your grasp. With a curious tilt of your head you drag your knife away from his neck, not lifting from his skin as you poise it at his chest. The uniltìrantokx shifts in a way he probably does recognize. This body is not his own. It was stolen. But you know. A tsakarem Sees all. His tail moves, curling nervously behind him as his jaw flickers. There’s a threat in his bared teeth. And it’s one you recognize. Because it’s mirrored in your own face as you watch his knife draw blood from your daughter’s skin. Whoever this little human is, he’s important to the uniltìrantokx. You hiss again and feel the breathing system on the boy’s back stutter as he heaves an uneven breath. Your blade slashes across his chest with the gentlest pressure, just enough to break his skin.

“I cut.” You string together those two words in accented English. Kiri has asked you not to kill him, and you won’t. He is probably the Spider she’s spoken so fondly of. For your daughter, his life will not end by your hand. But this demon doesn’t know that. You raise your knife over your head with a shriek, staring into the child’s terrified gaze as you wonder how a piece of Pandora has found its way inside a human. The threat is enough and the uniltìrantokx drops his blade, tossing Kiri towards Jake. You’re gentler with the human as you release your bruising grip. Kiri stumbles to her feet as Jake leads her and Kiri towards where you stand. You’re still a bit hazy, still unsteady as grief floods your chest, and your feet don’t move even in the face of victory. The uniltìrantokx says something that you don’t understand but the word “death” is met with a snarl as you bare your fangs at him.

A hand finds your arm. Small and gentle as they pull you towards the water.

“Sa’nu, come on. Please. Sa’nu!” Tuk says quietly, clinging to your side.

“Sa’nok!” Kiri pleads as you finally realize the battle is over. Your children are free. The humans are dead. You can leave this place. Jake says your name evenly, still crouched in front of you. He hasn’t accepted this victory either.

“Get them out of here.” It’s an order. Spoken with the voice of a legendary warrior. Your feet begin to move. The water sings to life with pale blue syuratan as you all slip off the sunken edge of the demon ship. The last demon is still talking, knife poised for a fight. And Jake hasn’t moved. Kiri warily calls for him, but her words go unheeded as Jake lunges at the uniltìrantokx.

“Jake!” You cry out for your mate but your attention is called away by the sound of something bursting. Fire fills the water, arcing towards the ship in lashing tongues of orange light.

“Get back to the ship. Swim. Now.” The ship is finally succumbing to the ocean, spewing out dark liquid as the fires aboard eat through the last of its integrity. Water rushes up with you as you and the children clamber back onto the ship. Tuk clings to your hand as her small legs buckle in the push of the waves. She screams as she loses her footing and falls deeper into the ship as a waterfall forms at the edge of an opening. There isn’t a thought in your mind as you dive in after her. No thoughts as you push her ahead of yourself. She shouts at you to open things, heavy swinging pieces of the wall that come open as you pull. Until they don’t. You tug at another place where a shape is cut into the wall, a handle jutting out for you to pull. But the ocean presses in as you pull out and the wall seals itself before you can push Tuk through the small opening.

“There’s no way out!” She screams, round eyes searching frantically for any place to go, but the light is beginning to wane. Winking in and out until it begins to dim like a dying fire.

“Sa’nu, I’m scared.” She whimpers.

“It is alright. Stay close to me.” You pull her closer, fingers weaving through her braids as she buries her face in your neck. The water rises around you as the darkness closes in. You pray for the Great Mother’s mercy. To save you and your daughter. And then only your daughter. Just Tuk, you beg within your heart. Please, save ma Tuktirey. For a moment there is nothing. No shift within your heart as there usually is when the Great Mother breathes her will into you. There’s nothing but darkness until a dot of yellow light appears. And then another and another, like stars as seeds of the Ranteng Utralti fill the water with warm light. A dark figure swims among them, rising to meet you as you hold out your hand.��

“Kiri!” Tuk leans into her touch as her free hand finds her cheek.

“Everything is going to be alright, tsmuke. Follow me.” The yellow light guides the way through the flooded ship as you follow behind your daughters. The open ocean is a blessed sight as you follow the starlight to the surface. It isn’t the longest breath you’ve taken but the anxiety twisting in your chest nearly punches the air from your lungs and you take in gasping breaths as you swim towards the shape of a tulkun floating nearby. Payakan. Jake and Lo’ak cling to one of his fins, beckoning the three of you closer.

“Come. Come here.” Lo’ak pants, holding his hand out towards Kiri. Their five fingered hands intertwine as Kiri pulls Tuk closer to her. Lo’ak is alive. He is alive and safe and breathing. Tears burn anew in your eyes. Neteyam is dead. Your son is dead. It emptied your head of all other thoughts, empties your heart of all other feelings. You go still in the water, barely kicking your feet as the thought washes over you. Perhaps you begin to sink but Jake pulls you towards him before your head dips back into the water. His arm wraps tight around you until even the water can’t reach the space between you.

“Thank you, Great Mother.” You whisper it again and again until you aren’t sure if you’re saying it aloud or in your heart. Thank you.

ɴᴀ’ᴠɪ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

Nawmtu – great person (honorific)

Spono alusìng – floating island (speculative)

Hì’ikran – dorado verde, small ikran (speculative)

Kawngtu – bad person, “bad guy”

Naranawm – Polyphemus, the planet Pandora orbits

Syuratan – bioluminescence

Taronway – hunt songs

Muntxatu – mate

Txopu rä'ä si, vrrteptsyìp. – don’t be afraid, little demon

Teylu – a grub, similar to a jumbo shrimp

Tswin – neural braid

Vrrtep – demon

Tewng – loincloth

Tawtute, Sawtute – sky person, sky people

Ranteng Utralti – Spirit Tree

’Itan – son

#jake sully x reader #sully family x reader #avatar x reader #avatar #atwow

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luimagines · 11 months

Text

Soulmates in the Sky

Another commission!

They asked for the similar Soulmate plot I had for Warrior but make it Sky. this includes beginning context so for the majority/ entirety of the fic, Sky is referred to as Link.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When Link was little, he always wondered what it would mean to have a soulmate. Everyone on Skyloft had one. Or at least they had the idea that they had one.

Link didn’t understand it, but he hoped he would have one. There was a time for everyone to go see their soulmate. It was a cave, they said. It was wonderful, they said. It was life changing, they said. Link couldn’t wait for his turn.

As life continued on, Link grew and studied and found his loftwing. It wasn’t long after flying lessons began that the instructor had asked the young student to listen carefully.

They would be going to Souls Cove.

Link could hardly contain the way his little heart swelled up in anticipation.

Zelda didn’t seem to care as much as he did, but he hoped they would be nice and pretty and would love to go flying with him.

“Listen up!” The instructor called them to attention. “You fly behind me and stay above the line of flight. We’re going to go around the main island and then we’ll take a right and go under the torrent. Any questions?”

Link couldn’t stop himself. He raised his hand. “How do we know if we have a soulmate once we get there?”

The instructor smiled kindly. It wasn’t a secret that soulmates were well known among Skyloftians, but the manner of which they were found was kept under tight lock. It was something no one wanted to spoil.

But today was the day they would learn, so there was little harm in explaining.

The instructor pointed in the direction in which they would travel and looked into the distance. “Once there, each of you will take turns entering the cave. You will see and hear your soulmate for the very first time- although it will only be reflections. There would be a magic stone that would connect you to them that whispers their inner thoughts towards you. You collect that and keep it safe.”

“So they’re not actually there?” Zelda tilted her head. “Why bother going then?”

“To learn who they are.”

Link raised his hand again, a small yet terrifying thought entering into his mind. “What if we don’t see anyone?”

The instructor paused, thinking over his words. “Well…most of the time it means that you already know who they are. But you can still collect the stone.”

Link calmed himself down. That’s fine then. Even better if he already met them!

“But what if there’s no stone?” Pipit asked next. He was going to skip ahead next year, Link was sure of it. So Link waited for the answer to his question. If Pipit was smart enough to skip a year, then there was surely a good point to his question. Besides, Link also wanted to know the answer.

The instructor looked nervous then. “There’s never been a case where there was no stone. So I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.”

Multiple students didn’t bother to hide their disappointment.

“Any other questions?”

Pipt raised his hand once more. “What if we don’t hear anything from the stone?”

The instructor didn’t look amused. They deadpan and point to the edge of the island. “Impossible. We’ll head out. Follow me and stay close.”

They run and leap off of the edge of the island. Link is quick to do the same.

He can hear his classmates follow soon after and he whistles

His loftwing comes up soon after, picking him up in what already is practiced momentum. Link has to keep an eye out for the professor- in order to keep their flying skills in check, they don’t tell the professors to wait for the students. The students have to catch up on their own or make their way back to the main island to be collected or redirected and start over.

Link takes to the air like a fish takes to water. This is where he belongs.

He lands next to the instructor with practiced ease tucking into a roll and stopping in a sitting position. The instructor seemed mildly amused at his entrance as he turned to expect the other students to arrive.

“Link, you go first.” The instructor gestured to the cave. “It’s only fair you’ve arrived first. Besides, I have to wait for the other students.”

Link jumps to his feet, his heart in his throat as he looks towards the entrance of the cave. Was this it? Was it truly so simple? The cave entrance itself was simple and unassuming. Yet it held the air of destiny and it’s heavy in Link’s chest.

Link nods, taking the first steps into the cave. It’s quiet and there’s the sound of dripping water somewhere beyond him.

“Why are you so pretty?” A new voice says. They sound annoyed and irritated. “Don’t you know you make it hard to think? Do you have to be this distracting?”

Link pauses. He’s not sure if he should be offended or if he should take it as a compliment. What a strange thing to be annoyed about. At least they like the way he looks.

Link walks further into the cove. He can vaguely hear the other students arriving just beyond the entrance, but the sounds of the cave seem to muffle their outcries and rough housing.

“H-hey… I didn’t mean it like that.” The voice sounds bashful now. Link looks around a stalagmite and into the crystal reflection on the wall. The reflection is not his own- but rather his soulmates. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. He’s never seen anyone like them. On one hand, he’s instantly enamored but on the other….he’s seen everyone on Skyloft. And he’s never seen them before. What does that mean?

“Link!” The instructor calls into the cave- ripping Link’s attention away from the reflection. “Not to ruin the moment….but the others have arrived. They need their turns before we have to head back. You can come back now that you know where it is, but you need to finish up.”

Link runs further in, just so he doesn’t miss anything else. Multiple iterations of reflections pass him. None of which belong to him. They’re from different moments of his soulmate's life. Each memory of his soulmate passes before him- letting him know about them before he’s ever actually met them. He sees glimpses into their childhood- up until he sees them as his age.

He stops at a pedestal of sorts. It’s a broken off stalagmite, protruding from the floor of the cave, but it’s the only one like that. The clearing around it seems purposeful. It looks significant.

There’s a smooth stone sitting in the middle of it.

Something in Link tells him to reach for it, to take it and keep it. He doesn’t fight it.

“I’ll always be on your team.” His soulmate tells him. The stone feels warm. Feeling giddy and ready to take on the world with a new purpose, Link rushes back out of the cave, not willing to risk himself getting in trouble. If the instructor was honest, then Link would certainly find himself coming back here. He doesn’t know where they are, but he can already tell that he’d do anything for them.

He can’t wait to meet them.

***

Zelda gets taken two years later.

When she had come out of Souls Cove, she had looked as neutral as she could. Link had tried to ask questions about what she saw- or didn’t see- but she didn’t seem willing to talk about it. At the time Link had thought it was strange. They were best friends. She was always willing to talk to him.

But it hadn’t ever really mattered. Link would have gone to the edge of the earth and beyond for her. And then he had to prove it.

During his journey he had learned much, seen more than he could imagine, heard more than he was willing to believe. If there was a whole new world to discover, Link was certain that you were there, waiting for him. Even if you most likely didn’t know who he was.

But it’s fine, Link tells himself. He’s young. There’s peace on earth.

He finishes his schooling and moves to the surface ready to begin the next chapter of his life. And to look for his soulmate. Surely they’re somewhere.

***

Years pass and Link finds a strange portal. It reeks of malice. He’s familiar with the smell and he’s emboldened by the energy.

Something is trying to tear apart his home once more. He’s not entirely sure if he can bring back the Master Sword- but that’s not going to stop him from protecting everyone just like he did in the past.

He tells Zelda and Groose that he’s going on a journey again. He’s not sure when he’s going to be back. Link tells them about the portal and to watch for the people he’s about to leave behind. Zelda cries and Groose promises to do his best as he is incapable of doing anything less.

He smiles and packs up his best gear, taking as much as he can before he reaches the edge of the portal. He hopes the settlement remembers to steer clear of it. Who knows what came out of it? He’s certainly going to find out.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Link remembers his soulmate and how he has yet to find them among the expanse of the surface. But he steels his nerves. If the world is destroyed, there wouldn't be any soulmate to continue finding. They probably don’t even know of the issue.

With their safety in mind, Link doesn’t have it in himself to look back.

***

Link finds a group of heroes. Interestingly, they all share the same name, so they opt for nicknames or titles. They call him Sky. This group, these boys all protect the surface time and time again because of his failure to shut up Demise in the first place. Most are younger than him. Only a select few are older. Many took the blade before they were teenagers- although Link can’t tell who did what. All he gathered was that the average age of taking up the blade is 11. But he has a suspicion that a few of the members were even younger.

It makes him sick.

Still, they have earned his trust and they all have a common goal. Fi seems to like them as well- although he’s not sure how they managed to bring the Master Sword on the journey. They let him carry her the most and for that he is grateful. It feels comforting, although he’s also learned that he perhaps is the only one to think that way.

And then, while he travels, when he least expects it. You’re thrown into the mix up.

You were running from monsters, screaming at first before you turned around grabbed a stick and started fighting back as hard as you could.

Link had to remind himself to stop staring once they were patching you up. As you explained your story, Link heard none of it. He took in your every detail, your voice, your clothes. You’ve grown just as much as he has since that first day in Souls Cove.

His fingers trace over the little stone he’s collected on that day. He’s never let it be found missing from his person. He carries it everywhere, just to hear you. But now it’s gone silent. Why would it speak? You’re right here in front of him.

You’re battered and bruised, but it appears that your ego had taken most of the blow. You seem annoyed with yourself as you get more passionate in complaining about the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Someone elbows him, hard. “Close your mouth. You’ll start drooling.”

Link wipes his chin just in case and shuts his mouth with an audible click. He turns to the young man next to him. Blond like most of them and strong hearted. They ended up calling him The Captain for his previous war experience. “I’m not drooling.”

“I know.” He says with a knowing glint in his eyes. “But we don’t need you starting. It’s a miracle they haven’t caught you yet. You suck at being subtle. Are you even trying?”

Link’s face warms. Of course he wasn’t trying. It didn’t even occur to him. “Shut up.”

“Any reason they’ve caught your attention?” The Captain asks, keeping that annoying, knowing smirk on his face. “You haven’t stopped staring since they showed up.”

Link coughs. He hasn’t disclosed to any of them about his soulmate. It didn’t take a genius to realize that they don’t have the same concept. It’s hard to reach Souls Cove directly from the surface anyway. And as much as it pains Link to realize it, he’s embarrassed to share his very common truth.

“They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.” He admits softly.

His admission takes The Captain by surprise- his teasing mode only marginally dashed. But then it returns. “Then go say hello.”

“What!? No.” Link shuts it down. How on earth is he going to do that? Is he supposed to go up to you and say “hello, my name is Link and I’m your soulmate. I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen and I know what your favorite childhood toy is, what your dream job is and your happiest memory.” Yeah, right. You don’t know how he is. He’d ruin everything before it even starts.

“Why not? It’s easy.” The Captain begins to push him forward.

“No” Link tries to dig his feet into the ground. “No. No! Warrior!”

His yelling starts to gather some attention from the others. The one they call The Veteran raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “What are you doing to Sky? Hasn’t he been spellbound enough by them?”

“If he’s going to stare, he might as well introduce himself.” Warrior adds with no shame in his voice. “I’m just giving him the push he needs.”

“Is that so?” The Vet starts stalking towards the two of them. Sky can feel his impending doom descend upon him.

“Legend, not you too!” He begs.

It’s futile. The two of them push and borderline carry him to where you are and plop unceremoniously in front of you. His footing is weird and he leans a little closer into your personal space than he’d like to and he overcompensates by throwing himself backwards, nearly tripping over Wolfie in the process.

You see everything. Naturally.

Link coughs and rights himself as fast as he can. He makes eye contact and freezes.

You freeze too.

Your eyes widen slightly and your jaw drops just enough to make your gaze as innocent and shocked as possible. Link thinks he sees your cheeks darken but perhaps he is projecting. His face is on fire as it is. The first time he gets to see you in full color, in person, in the flesh and he makes a total idiot out of himself.

He sticks his hand out. “Hi. My name is Link…”

They stare at him just as, if not, more so intently than he was staring at them. The awkward silence stretches on. They don’t react.

Link can feel himself growing more self conscious by the second. Was this how he wanted it to go? No. Was he given much of a choice? Also no.

Thankfully after another pregnant pause they also take his hand. It hangs loosely and limply, almost like a dead fish. It’s not something that Link wants to equivocate it with- but once the idea was in his head he found that he couldn’t fully get rid of it. He shakes it anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Link says and he realizes belatedly that he has no idea where he’s going with this. Think of something. Quick! “...I don’t think I caught your name.”

You blush and it takes his breath away.

He’s never been overly fond of the color red- even if it matches his loftwing but this? This is absolutely lovely. It’s the most perfect color for you. Link can’t think of anything else that would add to just how perfect you appear in his eyes.

You say your name and Link repeats it just as softly as you say it. It’s just as lovely to hear as it is to have it roll off of his tongue. Link smiles and shakes your hand, holding it gently within his grasp. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shy away curling in on yourself. At first he thinks that you’re afraid of him or that he’s done something wrong to make you uncomfortable- which is more than well deserved, a voice tells him in the back of his head. But instead you smile.

“Link…” You say his name at last. His heart begins pounding erratically. He can feel his smile widen as his eyes brighten.

Someone coughs from behind him and he’s doused with the cold reality that you’re not alone.

“We’re all named Link to be honest.” Four adds with a grin. “But we all have nicknames. Mine is Four or the Blacksmith or Smithy. I respond to all of them. This one right here is called Sky.”

Four smacks his side with the back of his hand.

Link loses his nerve and steps aside. His eyes still follow you even though others have taken over the conversation. By the looks of it, you’re going to be traveling with them since you’ve been dragged along for the adventure.

It makes sense now that he thinks about it. If hadn’t joined this cause, this group, he would have never met you.

He’s been waiting this whole life for this opportunity. He knows that you don’t know him but he can get to know you, be your friend.

And maybe you’ll love him too someday.

#legend of zelda #lu sky #linkx reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #linked universe #i know they say to not tag both- but it's more like.... it's lu in foggy glasses #can literally be anytime or anywhere- nicknames travel

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cryptidclaw · 1 year

Text

Cryptidclaw's WC Prefixes List!

Yall said you were interested in seeing it so here it is!

This is a collection of mostly Flora, Fauna, Rocks, and other such things that can be found in Britain since that’s where the books take place!

I also have other Prefixes that have to do with pelt colors and patterns as well!

Here’s a link to the doc if you dont want to expand a 650 word list on your Tumblr feed lol! the doc is also in my drive linked in my pined post!

below is the actual list! If there are any names you think I should add plz tell me!

EDIT: I will update the doc with new names as I come up with them or have them suggested to me, but I wont update the list on this post! Plz visit my doc for a more updated version!

Animals

Mammal

Badger

Bat

Bear

Beaver

Bison

Boar

Buck

Calf

Cow

Deer

Elk

Fawn

Ferret

Fox

Goat

Hare

Horse

Lamb

Lynx

Marten

Mole

Mouse

Otter

Rabbit

Rat

Seal

Sheep

Shrew

Squirrel

Stoat

Vole

Weasel

Wolf

Wolverine

Amphibians

Frog

Newt

Toad

Reptiles

Scale

Adder

Lizard

Snake

Turtle

Shell

Birds

Bird

Down

Feather

Albatross

Bittern

Buzzard

Chaffinch

Chick

Chicken

Coot

Cormorant

Corvid

Crane

Crow

Curlew

Dove

Duck

Dunlin

Eagle

Egret

Falcon

Finch

Gannet

Goose

Grouse

Gull

Hawk

Hen

Heron

Ibis

Jackdaw

Jay

Kestrel

Kite

Lark

Magpie

Mallard

Merlin

Mockingbird

Murrelet

Nightingale

Osprey

Owl

Partridge

Pelican

Peregrine

Petrel

Pheasant

Pigeon

Plover

Puffin

Quail

Raven

Robin

Rook

Rooster

Ruff

Shrike

Snipe

Sparrow

Starling

Stork

Swallow

Swan

Swift

Tern

Thrasher

Thrush

Vulture

Warbler

Whimbrel

Wren

Freshwater Fish

Fish

Bass

Bream

Carp

Dace

Eel

Lamprey

Loach

Minnow

Perch

Pike

Rudd

Salmon

Sterlet

Tench

Trout

Roach

Saltwater fish and other Sea creatures (would cats be able to find some of these? Probably not, I don't care tho)

Alge

Barnacle

Bass (Saltwater version)

Bream (Saltwater version)

Brill

Clam

Cod

Crab

Dolphin

Eel (Saltwater version)

Flounder

Garfish

Halibut

Kelp

Lobster

Mackerel

Mollusk

Orca

Prawn

Ray

Seal

Shark

Shrimp

Starfish

Sting

Urchin

Whale

Insects and Arachnids

Honey

Insect

Web

Ant

Bee

Beetle

Bug

Butterfly

Caterpillar

Cricket

Damselfly

Dragonfly

Fly

Grasshopper

Grub

Hornet

Maggot

Moth

Spider

Wasp

Worm

Trees

Acorn

Bark

Branch

Forest

Hollow

Log

Root

Stump

Timber

Tree

Twig

Wood

Alder

Apple

Ash

Aspen

Beech

Birch

Cedar

Cherry

Chestnut

Cypress

Elm

Fir

Hawthorn

Hazel

Hemlock

Linden

Maple

Oak

Pear

Poplar

Rowan

Redwood

Spruce

Willow

Yew

Flowers, Shrubs and Other plants

Berry

Blossom

Briar

Field

Flower

Leaf

Meadow

Needle

Petal

Shrub

Stem

Thicket

Thorn

Vine

Anemone

Apricot

Barley

Bellflower

Bluebell

Borage

Bracken

Bramble

Briar

Burnet

Buttercup

Campion

Chamomile

Chanterelle

Chicory

Clover

Cornflower

Daffodil

Daisy

Dandelion

Dogwood

Fallow

Fennel

Fern

Flax

Foxglove

Furze

Garlic

Ginger

Gorse

Grass

Hay

Heather

Holly

Honeysuckle

Hop

Hyacinth

Iris

Ivy

Juniper

Lavender

Lichen

Lilac

Lilly

Mallow

Marigold

Mint

Mistletoe

Moss

Mushroom

Nettle

Nightshade

Oat

Olive

Orchid

Parsley

Periwinkle

Pine

Poppy

Primrose

Privet

Raspberry

Reed

Reedmace

Rose

Rush

Rye

Saffron

Sage

Sedge

Seed

Snowdrop

Spindle

Strawberry

Tangerine

Tansy

Teasel

Thistle

Thrift

Thyme

Violet

Weed

Wheat

Woodruff

Yarrow

Rocks and earth

Agate

Amber

Amethyst

Arch

Basalt

Bounder

Cave

Chalk

Coal

Copper

Dirt

Dust

Flint

Garnet

Gold

Granite

Hill

Iron

Jagged

Jet

Mountain

Mud

Peak

Pebble

Pinnacle

Pit

Quartz

Ridge

Rock

Rubble

Ruby

Rust(y)

Sand

Sapphire

Sediment

Silt

Silver

Slate

Soil

Spire

Stone

Trench

Zircon

Water Formations

Bay

Cove

Creek

Delta

Lake

Marsh

Ocean

Pool

Puddle

River

Sea

Water

Weather and such

Autumn

Avalanche

Balmy

Blaze

Blizzard

Breeze

Burnt

Chill

Cinder

Cloud

Cold

Dew

Drift

Drizzle

Drought

Dry

Ember

Fall

Fire

Flame

Flood

Fog

Freeze

Frost

Frozen

Gale

Gust

Hail

Ice

Icicle

Lightening

Mist

Muggy

Rain

Scorch

Singe

Sky

Sleet

Sloe

Smoke

Snow

Snowflake

Soot

Sorrel

Spark

Spring

Steam

Storm

Summer

Sun

Thunder

Water

Wave

Wet

Wind

Winter

Celestial??

Comet

Dawn

Dusk

Evening

Midnight

Moon

Morning

Night

Noon

Twilight

Cat Features, Traits, and Misc.

Azure

Beige

Big

Black

Blonde

Blotch(ed)

Blue

Bounce

Bright

Brindle

Broken

Bronze

Brown

Bumble

Burgundy

Call

Carmine

Claw

Cobalt

Cream

Crimson

Cry

Curl(y)

Dapple

Dark

Dot(ted)

Dusky

Ebony

Echo

Fallen

Fleck(ed)

Fluffy

Freckle

Ginger

Golden

Gray

Green

Heavy

Kink

Knot(ted)

Light

Little

Lost

Loud

Marbled

Mew

Milk

Mottle

Mumble

Ochre

Odd

One

Orange

Pale

Patch(ed)

Pounce

Prickle

Ragged

Red

Ripple

Rough

Rugged

Russet

Scarlet

Shade

Shaggy

Sharp

Shimmer

Shining

Small

Smudge

Soft

Song

Speckle

Spike

Splash

Spot(ted)

Streak

Stripe(d)

Strong

Stump(y)

Sweet

Tall

Talon

Tangle

Tatter(ed)

Tawny

Tiny

Tough

Tumble

Twist

Violet

Whisker

Whisper

White

Wild

Wooly

Yellow

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #?#Im tempted to use these in the au #some characters deserve some more fun names hehe #rise of change #warrior cats #warrior cats design #warriors #warriors names #warriors naming #warriors prefixes

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Note

new and improved bingo request! fantasy au between finnick and mermaid!reader please!! i feel like it would just make so much sense that finnick would love swimming so maybe he has a routine where he goes every morning and eventually has suspicions that something is in the water with him. so one day he’s sitting at the dock and the mermaid makes herself seen with some cheeky little comment about him almost being as good a swimmer as her!! their relationship blossoms as they learn more about each other’s worlds through daily meet ups and maybe one day they meet in mermaid’s cove during a full moon where she gets her legs and maybe she asks finnick for a lesson in something a bit more advanced (-; LOL but i was thinking quote #1 from mermaid “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad” and then maybe quote #14 from finnick (darling just gives me FINNICK). so sorry this was so long, i was in a daydream coming up w this. once again i appreciate your work so much! 🧚‍♀️

—𓆩[full moon cove]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Prince! Finnick Odair x Mermaid Princess! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick always loved the water. It was his only escape from the life of the Crown Prince who just took over the Kingdom of Panem after the death of the previous ruler, Snow. The cove he went to was different, though, and it always felt like someone was watching him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be true, much less from a beautiful woman like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - my prince Finnick dream is coming to life || foul language and cursing || inaccurate portrayal of princes- || totally little mermaid inspired kinda || accidental harm || stabbing || you have blue eyes for a little bit, like they flash || time skip || basically virginity loss || nipple stimulation || raw sex || unprotected sex || breeding kink || begging || praise ||

From where Finnick was sitting, he knew damn well that someone was watching him. He could feel it, his skin crawling as he slowly spun around in a circle, trying to wait until one of the bigger fishes flew forward, kicking his feet to stay above the water.

He really did like this, being able to be in the water - his favorite place - even if he was sure someone was watching him. When he saw a certain shine though, one he was sure was scales, he threw down his trident and watched the crimson blood fill the water. Finnick was thankful that he was in the actual ocean and not the cove he dearly loved because he was sure that the blood would never come out of those pretty waters.

He let out a whoop of happiness before something went around his ankle, gasping before he was pulled underwater, quickly closing his mouth before something wet landed on his lips, a choked noise making him gag all over again as water filled his mouth before he was able to spit it out. It makes him pause when he is able to inhale something like air, gasping as bright blue eyes meet his own before going back to a different color.

What the actual fuck?

He stared at your hands begin to move, more confused when you let out a noise somewhat like a groan, bubbles coming from your mouth before they slow, your eyes fluttering closed. Finnick gasped, hand flying to his mouth as he was still unable to comprehend the fact that he was fucking breathing on the water.

He stopped though when he stared at your face, watching as the crimson liquid that began to float into a messy cloud of red came from you - your tail.

For fucks sake.

He grabbed his trident before it could float too low, his other arm grabbing you as he slipped it into the waistband of his pants. It didn’t take him long to get you out of the water, easily laying you out on the sand. His eyes scanned your form, swallowing loudly as his hands ghost your figure, a hiss coming from your mouth making him gasp.

“Don’t be a pervert!”

“I-I’m not!”

He was so being a pervert.

Respectfully, how could he not? You were beautiful, your skin slowly dissipating into beautiful scales of purple and gold starting from your sides and your breasts were covered with a thin string beaded with shells and sea glass. Your hair formed wisps around your face like a halo, bright eyes with flecks of blue darting around until they met his face.

“Yes you are.”

“Y-You’re just…” he stuttered, unable to control his tongue as he inhaled deeply. “You’re a mermaid. Y-You’re beautiful.”

You don’t say anything as his eyes continue to scan your body, memorizing every curve of your body that he desperately wanted to hold. He had heard stories about the mermaids and their charms, but no, this was different. You were absolutely stunning in every way — your slightly-webbed fingers were adorned with gold and pearls, shells and gems threaded through strands of your hair, pearls braided into a crown — for fucks sake, he had never seen anyone as pretty as you.

When your wet hang swatted at his face though, a loud slap that didn’t hurt though the noise echoed all around the beach making his face stay to the side in shock. “Does your kind know that it’s rude to stare?” Your voice wasn’t like one he had ever heard, slightly accented and echoey, perfectly showing your mermaid enchantments.

“Y-Yes, but-”

You scoffed. “But what? You would be rude and stare after stabbing me?”

“You’re too beautiful not to stare.”

He watched your mouth zip closed, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Why do you like me?” He forgot he stabbed you until he saw the blood stained sand, gasping. “Fuck! What do I do, what do I do?!”

“Oh, calm down!” You say, giggling as he frantically started looking around. “Just… get me back to the water.”

“Fuck, do I clean it? Should I put like… seaweed on it?”

You pause, then nod. “Get that one, the purple one over there. Hurry.”

Finnick nodded quickly, rushing to stand and grab the seaweed before running back. He tore some off and started rubbing the blood away, then wrapped the rest around it and stood up. “Ready?”

“For what- oh my!” You yelled out in surprise when he picked you up easily, holding you tightly against his own body and walking toward the trees. “Wh-Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the water.”

“I meant the sea-”

“As long as it’s water, right?” He sends you a wolfish grin, quickly finding the end of the trees and staring at the cove. He paused when he saw your eyes flash a pale cerulean, flickering from the cove to the sea as your webbed fingers shake against his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispers, nodding. “I promise.”

“Well, you already broke it,” you say as he slowly puts you into the water, watching a small cloud of crimson hover to the top before slowly dissipating. “My mother always told me stories about this cove.”

“One, it was an accident,” he says, slowly sitting in the water as you move your arms to push yourself to the center, giggling as you spin in the water. “Two, I thought you were a fish. Like, a real fish.”

“Well I was coming to give you a fish. A big one. A nice one that could feed you for days.”

He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. It was truly kind of you to say that, to think that, but he would probably give it to some kids he’d see on the way into the kingdom.

“What’s so funny?” You turn to stare at him, raising a brow.

“As much as I appreciate the thought, darling, I don’t need that fish as much as other people do.” He slowly stepped into the water, smiling as you narrowed your eyes slightly but didn't go to move.

“My name is not darling.”

“Oh? Well then what is it?” He kicked his feet to stay above the water, your tail moving slightly as you looked him up and down.

“It’s Y/N. Princess Y/N.”

He smiled, licking his lips to try and hide it. “Oh yeah? Well I’m Finnick.” He purposely leaves out the fact that he was a prince.

“That’s an odd name,” you say, but smile. “I like it.”

He smiled, slowly swimming closer before you moved away, pausing his movements as you licked your lips. “So, what’s so special about this cove, hm?”

“My mother has told me stories. There is a very dangerous underwater mountain range between the sea and this cove, but it has magical properties underneath the full moon. It is a place where people come to make sure that their bonds stick.”

Finnick paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You pause, shaking your head. “Humans do not need to know of our rituals. Besides, what are your rituals?”

Slowly, you swam around him, Finnick following your form. “My rituals?”

“Human rituals, I mean.” You correct, the seaglass threaded through your hair reflecting light onto your pretty face. “Like, for mating.”

“F-For mating?!” Damn were you forward.

“Well, I’ve heard that you people put rings on each other's hands? Why do you do that?” You tilted your head, humming. “Partners in my world marry when they turn into humans, then they proceed to mate to have children afterwards.”

“After what?”

“After their marriage ceremony!” You explain, smiling. “I am extremely excited to have my marriage ceremony.”

Finnick could feel his heart sink. “Y-You’re betrothed?”

“Not yet,” you respond, pausing. “I have not found the right suitor yet. And yourself? Are you betrothed?”

Finnick snorted. “Everyone wants me to be.”

You hummed softly, slowly swimming forward. “Why?”

“I am…” his voice turns into a whisper as you grab his hand, smiling. “What?”

“Yours are not like mine,” you respond, giggling. “I like them.”

“My hands?”

“Yes, I like them,” you giggled, gasping when a loud sound rung through out the forest, one you did not know was a bell. “Oh. Oh, what is that?!”

“It’s a bell,” Finnick sighed, looking down at where you held his wrist. “I need to go, but I will be back soon. I promise.”

“Where are you going?” You held his wrist tighter, trying to get him to stay as he adjusted his necklace, one given to him by Mags to protect him from mermaids like you. It didn’t work, and to be honest, he was glad it didn’t. “No! No, you need to stay, you brought me here, you need to stay with me!”

He could feel his mind blurring as he stood, eyesight fading in and out before you gasped.

“Oh my- I-I’m so sorry!”

It went away as soon as you said it, his eyes quickly meeting yours. “Was that- was that your magic?”

“Y-Yes, but I didn’t mean to! I didn’t, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Finnick said, holding the necklace in his hand as he inhaled deeply. “It’s completely fine.”

It wasn’t completely fine, but the way you reacted let him know it truly was an accident. He watched as you slowly swam over, offering your hand out to him as he kneeled down and took it, pressing a soft kiss to your webbed fingers as you rubbed your nose against his.

Your skin was cold and wet, but he liked it when the scales against your wrist rubbed against his skin as you rubbed your face against his. He could feel his stomach twisting, his heart beating faster as soft coos and trills came from your mouth. “Please Finnick… please do not leave me.”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be right back, I swear on it.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as you let go of his hand. “Please don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” And with that, Finnick ran off, determined to have a one sided verbal conversation with Mags on why the fuck he was already head over heels for a mermaid he’d only met once — even if he had to do something first.

“I present Prince Finnick of Panem,” Everyone bowed as soon as the doors opened, Finnick inhaling deeply as Peeta smiled back at him, Caesar grinning from the door. “To his coronation.”

He stared up at Mags who stood on the platform where kings before him had gotten married and where he was supposed to too, but what if he wanted to get married in the sea? To you?

He had just met you and he was already planning your wedding, a smile on his face as he walked down the aisle. Would you be able to walk down the aisle? You said that you could shift, right? He had heard stories that mermaids could change-

“Finnick!”

He paused, gasping when he saw Mags’ short stature standing right in front of him, literally a centimeter away from him. She makes a face, lips firmly pressed together as she tilted her head up at him, obviously aware he was distracted.

He grinned sheepishly as he slowly stepped back, inhaling deeply as the music started to play, Mags taking her crown from her head and setting it onto a pillow offered by another person. Finnick swallowed as the music stopped, signaling the end of Mags’ temporary reign, and another crown quickly being brought out.

It was a new one, as Finnick never wanted to wear the crown Snow did, so he ordered the making of a new one. He smiled when he saw the pearls and diamonds, both of them reminding him of what was in your hair early on. He was already thinking of the crown he would have made for you, pearls and sea glass with diamonds to match his own.

You would look beautiful sitting next to him on a throne, or in his lap. He liked the lap scene better, though.

Mags slapped his forehead making him gasp, the older woman raising a brow down at him as he gave another sheepish smile. When the music started again, Finnick slowly kneeled down, inhaling deeply.

This was it — he would be king in a matter of seconds, and right when the crown was set on his head, everyone cheered.

The new King of Panem was finally crowned, and he was soon to be betrothed too, but to someone no one would expect.

It had been a few months since Finnick brought you to the cove, but you always disappeared one night a month. It made him upset, the fact he wasn’t able to see you.

“Are you going to be here tonight?” Finnick whispered as he brushed his fingers down your bicep, your tail now healed and still in the water as your torso laid in his lap.

“Most likely not,” you whisper, Finnick wincing.

“Why not? The cove is beautiful under a full moon.” He says making you giggle.

“I’m aware. Our kind comes here for-” you pause, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

“No, you have to say it now.” Finnick sits up, looking down at you as you shrug slightly. “Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“My mother used to say that all of the greatest rulers came here to secure their bond before marriage,” you whisper, your scaled hand pushing into his as your fingers thread through his own. “I hope to do the same.”

Finnick smiled down at you, finally leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. It made you gasp, your lips soft and warm as your hands pushed to the back of his head. Your lips were so addicting, slightly salty but soft and perfect against his own, his hand pushing to hold your hand.

He pulled away slightly, humming against your lips as you leaned up, pulling his lips right back onto your own. It was your first time kissing anyone, and Finnick’s lips were so warm and soft and perfect against your own, desperately pulling him down as he moved to kneel over your body.

You could feel his fingers slowly travel down your sides, trailing from your skin to your scales as his teeth graze your lips, mouth moving passionately and quickly in desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him lower. You squirm underneath him, desperately trying to pull him closer as Finnick pulls away slightly, groaning as he tries to stay away from your lips.

His softly brush against yours as you run your fingers through his hair, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. “I know humans are not like us. You started a mating ritual, this is your last chance to leave before it continues.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers back, his hands shakily going over your tail. “I just don’t know how to continue.”

You giggled making him laugh, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours. “You have to wait until the moon comes up,” you whisper, pushing his hair back delicately. “I’m not able to change at will until we mate.”

“That long?” He groaned, his eyes trailing down your body and catching at your pretty nipples. “I guess that means I have to entertain myself some other way.”

“Wait,” you say, quickly cupping his face. “You need to come with me.”

He paused, staring at you in confusion. “Where?”

“To where the moonlight will find us the best.” You smiled, quickly grabbing his hand as you pulled him into the water.

He had heard stories about people being dragged to their death by your kind, but that wasn’t going to be him. He trusted you so much, holding his breath as you dragged him down lower and lower, the sunlight no longer able to be seen in the water. He could feel his vision blur until he’s pulled out of the water, gasping loudly as you giggled.

“Look! Look, isn’t it pretty? There is no sand here, that way it will not be uncomfortable when I shift into my human form.” You giggled, looking around as Finnick panted. “Oh, did I not give you enough time to take a breath?”

Finnick laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine, darling. I-Is that a bed?”

You paused, looking over where he did, a makeshift bed of furs and nets making you smile. “Oh, yes! It’s customary to make a bed for the next pair and leave a special treat for them. Of course, it has to be something that can’t go bad, but when you and your mate finish, you burn the blankets that you used and use the ash in your wedding ceremony.”

Finnick swam over to you, lifting you up into his arms making you let out a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Where does your kind get fur? You know, if you live underwater, it would spoil.”

You hummed as he laid you onto the soft furs that matched the ones brought only to the castle, customary for the kings because of how expensive it is. “I’m not sure. We do not use furs under the sea, just up here. How they acquired it is unknown to me.”

He merely hummed, his attention now on you as he softly pressed kisses to your collarbone. Your scales were cold and beautiful, sliding along his fingers beautifully as his tongue rubbed over the expanse of your collar bone, one of his hands sliding up your torso as you inhaled sharply.

You could feel your eyes roll back, his warm tongue sliding along your skin as the tips of his fingers trail along your skin that hadn’t yet become scales just yet, pulling the strands of thinly braided seaweed threaded with pearls and sea glass off of your body. He smiled when he saw the scales spotting along your breasts and your ribs that were hidden by the seaweed somehow, leaning down to let his lips hover over your scales, a sharp inhale leaving your mouth as your stomach twists.

Your scales were more sensitive than your skin, and his fingers were pinching against your nipple, thumb and middle rolling the sensitive bud. The feeling was foreign to you, a whine leaving your lips as his tongue trailed along your skin from the patch of scales to your nipple. A whine leaves your mouth, you hadn’t even shifted yet and you could already feel yourself getting aroused, his warm fingers and mouth kissing and sucking against your tits.

It was too much, your stomach clenching as your hands pushed into his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to pull him away with how sensitive he was making your body, licking and sucking and biting which made you whimper. Finnick was easily keeping himself entertained, waiting until the change would happen by distracting himself with marking up your body.

“For fucks sake, darling, I want to fuck you so bad.”

His words made you whimper, groaning loudly as you buck your hips into the air, pausing. You had hips.

“F-Finnick!” You gasped, staring down as he groaned. “Finnick, look!”

He laughed, shaking his head as his tongue lapped against your nipple, the perky bud making him grin as the tip of his tongue circled around it. “You’re not gonna get me away from these pretty tits, baby.”

“Finnick,” you giggle, pushing your foot against his thigh, your leg shaking. “Look.”

He paused, pulling away and staring down at your beautiful legs. His hands softly squeezed at your plush thighs, smiling as he kissed softly against your skin and pulling your legs above his shoulders. Your eyes widened, gasping. “W-Wait, Finnick!”

“I’ve waited months, darling. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” He stared at your cunt, your pretty pussy already soaked as his fingers slid up and down, gathering your wetness before teasing your entrance. “Please.”

You gasped, warm fingers pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, shaking your head. “I-I’ve never done this before, Finnick.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “It’s okay, darling, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

You inhale, slowly pulling him closer with a bend of your knees. “Okay. Pl-Please, please…” you whisper, humming as his tongue flattened against your slit. “Please fuck me.”

You use his words, gasping as you feel something foreign inside of you, eyes rolling back as you inhaled deeply. You blink a few times to collect yourself, staring down at his fingers that slowly pushed inside of you, two of them. You gasped, staring at them as they disappeared inside of you, pulling in and out as his tongue dragged along your clit. He groaned loudly, insatiable groans of pleasure falling from both of your lips.

He was desperately sucking and licking at your cunt, around your entrance against your clit, he was absolutely infatuated with your taste. It was making him feral, groaning into your cunt and sending vibrations up your spine as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into you, curling as he rutted against the blankets. Oh he had to be inside of you, but you had to cum first before he fucked you.

His fingertips graze that spot inside of you, pushing and rubbing right against that perfect spot as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling against the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you right over that perfect edge. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening as you bucked your hips unconsciously, your thighs shaking around his head as you still didn’t have enough control of your legs.

Finnick groaned, pulling out his fingers and curling them, dragging out every drop of your cum and scissoring his digits inside of you to make your walls clamp down on them, laughing as he licked up the pearlescent essence sliding out of your cunt. It makes him smile as he pulls your fingers out of your cunt, watching it flutter and clench around nothing before sitting back against his heels.

He pulled down his wet trousers and underwear, smiling as he dragged his cupped hand against your cunt, gathering your wetness mixed with his own saliva and slathering it onto his shaft before lining his head up with your entrance, biting his lips as your hands quickly flew to his shoulders. Your head was tilted back, mouth wide in pleasure as you groaned out, your fingers no longer webbed and the scales on your body now gone.

He leaned down with a sharp thrust, easily becoming balls deep inside of you as your walls tightened and fluttered around his shaft, a loud groan falling from both of your lips. “You just came again.”

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you whisper meekly, eyes wide as you stare down at where his cock disappeared inside of you, “Y-You feel so good, please don’t stay still. Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you to cum inside.”

He lost control with that one sentence, pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. It was rough and made sparks of both pleasure and pain spark up your spine, eyes rolling back at the unfamiliar but pleasure filled thrusting of his hips. He groaned loudly, his stomach already twisting as he choked against your shoulder – he was only a few thrusts in, desperately trying to chase the high he was right on the edge of, already drunk on your cunt.

“F-Fuck, fuck Y/N darling. You feel so good, so fucking good!” He groaned against your shoulder, mouth already attaching to the previously made hickies, letting out a loud moan as he slammed his hips forward, hips pausing when he finally came.

He didn’t stop though, his mind solely focused on fucking you now, watching your face slowly became fucked out, eyes hazy as you stared up at him. Your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, your stomach full of cum as he continued to thrust, barely an hour with legs and already lost feeling of them.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, hips bucking into his own in desperation as he panted above you, pausing nearly for a minute. It was still too long for him to be still inside of you, wiping the sweat from his brow as you whined. He grinned down at you, moving back to pull his cock out of you before slowly pushing back in. “Darling, you’re so desperate. How many times have I cum inside of you? And you still want more?”

“Wh-Why can’t I want more? You make me feel so good, and you like to fuck me, don’t you? So don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You basically wailed, gasping as he grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly off the bed to fuck into you again, head tilting back as you stared up at his face.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, slamming in and out of you as he fucking you like his own personal whore, which at this point, you basically were. You felt so full, eyes rolling back as sweat dripped down his forehead, mouth wide open with a loud groan. “Fuck darling, I don’t want to stop.”

His words make you laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a firm kiss. “Well, I’m free to change at will now,” you whisper, stroking his golden hair. “You don’t have to stop.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, my darling mermaid.”

“And I love you, my darling human.”

“Just human? Am I just a human to you?” He says playfully, watching you giggle.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Finnick.”

“Whatever you say, my darling mermaid.”

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frozenjokes · 19 days

Text

Two Touchy Mermaids Fail To Communicate With The Most Obnoxious People You’ve Ever Met In Your Life

pronouns get a little weird. clarification in ao3 notes

Something was different today. Something was going to happen.

Grian and Scar were restless, but Mumbo was pretty sure it was an excited sort of restlessness, the type where you couldn’t sit still, where you couldn’t stop smiling.

They were trying to explain something to him as well; a thing called Etho, which seemed important, but neither of them were doing a very good job of actually telling him what an Etho was besides the fact that it was good, indicated by constant thumbs up motions. But beyond Mumbo’s own frustration, that was exciting too! They were preparing for something, someone even, maybe another human? In truth, the idea of a new human made Mumbo quite nervous, but if Grian and Scar trusted them, surely Mumbo could too. He didn’t think they’d do anything to jeopardize the safety of his cove, but humans weren’t the most intelligent of creatures.

There was something about mermaids as well. Scar kept trying to tell him something about mermaids. Yes, Scar, I am a mermaid. That is what you call me. Yes I know mermaids are good. Yes I know an Etho is good, what are you trying to say here.

Scar had also brought an extra bag that Mumbo hadn’t seen before, though unfortunately he was very protective over it, not leaving its side and making some sort of hissing sound when Mumbo got too close. Given how Grian laughed at the noise, Mumbo got the impression that it was not a normal human vocalization, just an attempt at mimicry. Scar looked happy with himself though, and that was cute. After being given a new human device (Fidget Cube, it was called), Mumbo left him alone. This tool was fascinating; it seemed to serve no purpose at all! Was it a puzzle? Oh, he adored these! It looked a little like some mermaid puzzles, but so much smaller. Mumbo would figure it out.

This preoccupied him for quite a while (making no progress- how difficult did human puzzle cubes get? Was there a human secret he was missing? At least it felt good to play with), but he jolted up when Scar yelled, waving at the water. Mumbo’s fins flicked, confused, but raised when he saw a massive ripple over the top of the water, then a dark shadow just beneath the surface. Far too big to be a fish.

“Etho! I- Mumbo-“ Scar didn’t have to say any more before Mumbo dove forward to investigate, fins raised and teeth gently bared, wariness which only heightened when he saw exactly who was on the other side of the lake.

‘I’m friendly. I’m friendly.’ Ghost whistled, fins tight against their body and head low in a submissive posture, as if Mumbo didn’t already know better. ‘I’m-‘

Mumbo launched after the other mermaid, Ghost frozen in a moment of terror before turning tail in a flurry of bubbles. But Mumbo was bigger, faster, and Ghost had to maneuver downward in a sharp turn to escape Mumbo’s teeth in their tail. Not here. Not now. No one would be permitted to enter his cove, not when his humans were present. Especially shapeshifting not-mermaids. Unfortunately, Ghost had pivoted down and away from the outlet back to the river, so Mumbo would need to corral them more effectively on the second try.

But Ghost wasn’t trying to escape to the deeper part of the lake like Mumbo had anticipated; the area with more cover, more room to swim. They were going to the shore.

The course correction was awkward, but once Mumbo straightened himself out he was flying after Ghost. The mer was sprinting like their life depended on it, but Mumbo was quicker, catching up from below just as the sand started to brush his stomach and rearing upward in a flash of teeth, tearing at Ghost's tail. Mumbo wanted to flip them around, drag them by the tail back where they came from, but unsurprisingly, Ghost did not make this easy, thrashing and snapping and being extraordinarily difficult.

Muffled yelling from the surface turned sharper every time Mumbo was spun above the water, Ghost writhing in desperate circles to force Mumbo to let go, but Mumbo didn’t process the movement in the water before something attached itself to his back, making him rear back above the surface in startled surprise.

“SCAR!” was the first thing Mumbo heard, the shrillest shriek he’d ever heard out of Grian’s mouth, but he didn’t have time to think when Ghost was shooting away toward the beach and something was crushing the fins on his back and wrapping around his neck-

Mumbo slammed himself into the sand, rolling through as he fought a sharp panic, but Ghost was escaping, they were going to-

All rational thought went out the window when The Something found the lip of his gills, pulling with uncoordinated movement and sending fiery shots of pain down his neck and chest. Mumbo slammed himself against the sand twice more, but the thing just wouldn’t untangle. The delayed realization that he could use his arms hit fiercely, but before he could rip off whatever it was that had latched itself onto his back, splashing outside of his own caught his periferie, the clumsiness of a human racing through the water unmistakable.

“Mumbo! Stop- stop! Fucking fuck FUCKING Scar FUCK. Mumbo!” Before Mumbo could even recognize Grian in front of him, something blunt slammed against the side of his head, then his shoulder- ow- Mumbo hissed, confusion rattling his brain more than hostility, then something else yelled, really loud directly into his ear, but the thing did drop off his back- had Grian done that?

Oh. The thing was Scar. AAA! That was Scar!

Mumbo jumped away with a start, fins tense and quivering. Scar was sitting dazed in the water, shirt torn and tattered from being crushed against Mumbo’s sharp fins- skin- most of him was sharp, actually. He was bleeding everywhere, but closer inspection revealed the injuries were mostly scrapes, the worst of it on his arms from pushing against Mumbo’s rough skin as well as Scar’s neck and upper chest area which had probably been poked and punctured by Mumbo’s hair. Goodness gracious. What was he thinking!?

‘Scars! Never in my many years have I ever met anyone as eager to die as you! What is wrong with your head? I could have killed you!’

“What is your fucking problem!?” Grian started speaking to Scar at nearly the same time, who at this point was not looking very amused, ignoring the both of them in their continued tirades as he stood up, brushing sand off his torn shirt and limping to the shore.

“That was stupid, Scar,” Mumbo whipped up when he heard Ghost’s voice, their human voice, but Scar didn’t look concerned at all, meandering right up to the bush where the other mermaid was cowering in the shade. Ghost’s tail was tucked away where Mumbo couldn’t see, but the small trail of blood across the beach indicated he’d still done some damage. “I told you. Territorial. Not sure how I’m going to get out of here now, so.”

“I’m sorry then.” Scar huffed, hunching his shoulders as he plopped into the sand. Mumbo hissed, somewhat uncertain now, but stopped with a few startled clicks when Grian grabbed at his hand to get his attention, letting go as quickly as contact was made.

“No. That’s Etho. Good.” Grian gave him a firm thumbs up, to which Mumbo returned with a thumbs down, to which Grian returned to a thumbs up, to which-

‘I’m sorry for our first meeting. I did not realize we shared idiot friends. I did not think we would meet again. Which, for the record, was not my idea. I was stuck somewhere poor. Needed a secluded place with access to land. If it’s any consolation, I thought this was a terrible idea. Humans don’t think. They only want.’ Ghost made a motion with their hand that Mumbo didn’t understand, but Scar seemed to take offense, slapping at the gesture. Ghost didn’t mind, fins unchanging.

Mumbo’s fins flicked, unsure, but above all, deeply confused. How could Grian and Scar know another mermaid- neither of them had brought it up before. Well. In fairness, Ghost wasn’t really.. ‘You are not a mermaid.’

Ghost shrugged, a human gesture, ‘Part time.’

‘This makes no sense.’

‘It’s best if you just accept that you won’t understand. I also do not understand. The bad human you met before has the power to do as he wishes with me. Usually I am human, but I have been stuck as a mer in recent days, unable to contact the bad human. Though I did grow up in this form before being trapped on the surface. I know the language, obviously. Unfortunately, I happen to be good friends with-“ Ghost stopped for a moment, ‘What do you call them?’ Ghost flicked their fins in Scar’s direction.

‘Scars.’

Ghost made an odd sound, that weird wheezing noise, mimicking a human laugh, ‘I forgot. It means the same thing in the human language, isn’t that funny?’

Mumbo blinked, fins flaring for a short moment of surprise, ‘What? That’s a cruel name for a child, you must be mistaken.’

‘He named himself.’

‘Why?’

‘Genuinely, I do not know.’ Ghost narrowed their eyes, and Mumbo saw a teasing flick of his tail even obscured by the brush, ‘If it’s so cruel, why did you choose it?’

Mumbo puffed up, embarrassed, ‘They put me on the spot. Wanted mermaid names. Just went with the first short word I saw.’ Mumbo gestured with a soft motion to Scar, ‘They still can’t say it, but I think it would be more confusing to change. Now though, I don’t think Scars minds.’

“You two friends yet?” Scar cut in, grabbing Ghost’s attention away, but they only made that shrugging motion again.

“I don’t think he wants to kill me anymore.”

“That’s great news!”

‘Okay, wait a minute-‘ Mumbo struggled to cut in, unused to having so much competition while speaking, ‘I don’t understand any of this-‘

‘You won’t.’ Ghost cut him off, curt.

‘How do you change?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How do you not know? Will the bad human come back?’

‘Forces beyond my control. They might, but if I’m given advance warning I will leave and you won’t have to worry about them. Assuming I will stay, which I won’t.’

“What are you saying?” Grian finally spoke up, blatant in his interruption as all humans seemed to be, but Ghost waved him off.

“I’m telling him I’m going to leave as soon as I’m healed. Shouldn’t be long now, Joel will take care of it.”

“What? Why! You’re already here!” Grian jumped up, and Mumbo sidled away from the high energy.

“Etho! Solitaire, Etho! Etho. Remember solitaire?” Scar joined in, taking Ghost’s hand in a way that made Mumbo cringe.

Etho flicked their fins. “He doesn’t want me here.”

“Mumbo totally wants you here! It was just a misunderstanding- isn’t it?” Grian turned to Mumbo, and it took a couple moments before Mumbo even realized he was being addressed. “Right?”

Mumbo flicked his fins with a short huff, and Ghost made a similar motion, whistling, ‘Do you want me here?’

‘No.’

“He said no.”

“To what? What did you ask him?” Grian waded back to the shore, his interest acutely on Ghost now.

“You two are insufferable and this was a horrible idea. My regrets are many.”

“No! Nononono!” Scar seemed quite distressed, touching and tapping Etho’s shoulders and face and arms and how did they stand that? “Mumbo! Etho.” Scar proceeded to point at Ghost with great urgency, giving Mumbo many thumbs up so it was clear exactly what he was trying to convey. Once Grian made it to the sand he made similar motions, equally enthusiastic in his strained excitement. Scar continued, “Etho! This is Etho! Etho is good. Good! Good guy, very good. Etho! Good!”

‘Etho’s’ fins were pinned all the way back, eyes closed in irritation. Mumbo huffed, keeping his own thumb firmly down and struggling not to be charmed by both humans’ great reaction of slapstick distress.

‘Pests.’ Ghost said.

‘Pests.’ Mumbo had to agree. Couldn’t the two of them see how much they were bugging Ghost? Or- Etho as they were called, weren’t they. That was their human name. Human. A part human with human friends. How did that work?

Scar continued babbling to Etho while Grian seemed to be trying to communicate with Mumbo, but honestly, Mumbo didn’t care that much, his wariness of Etho turning over to curiosity. Not curious enough to feel bad about biting them, but curious regardless. Anyone would be.

‘You speak human?’

Etho stared at Mumbo for a long time, entirely ignoring both Grian and Scar making fools of themselves between them. After a very long pause, Etho finally answered, ‘Yes.’

‘You can translate?’

Mumbo didn’t think Etho could look any more irritated, but he was proven incredibly wrong when Etho’s pressed-flat fins began to quiver. ‘Technically.’

“What is he saying?” Grian.

‘What are they saying?’

“You’re both asking for translations, all three of you are pests, and you have about three games of solitaire to convince me to stay.” Etho started to translate what they’d said for Mumbo, but the clearing exploded into noise before they could finish. Scar and Grian were tripping over themselves to convince Etho of- something, and one moment of shared eye contact was all it took for Mumbo to understand this was going too far. Well. Mumbo knew a place where Etho could get some space.

With a flick of his tail, Mumbo gestured to the water. Both humans missed it, but Etho got the message, bracing themself before pushing forward, pointedly slapping both Grian and Scar with their tail and shooting into the water.

While this caused quite a bit of commotion on the shore, he and Etho didn’t hear very much of it, swimming deeper where the sound of unhappy humans would not reach. Mumbo slowed his pace once they were far enough away though, partially due to Etho’s injury (which didn’t look nearly as bad as Mumbo had thought; holding on with his teeth for so long would have caused a lot more damage wouldn’t it? Now it only looked like a scratch; Etho must have really tough scales!), but also quite aware of Etho’s intent as they swam in the direction of the outlet to the river. He still had questions. Time he intended to buy.

‘You weren’t born human? You come from the ocean?’

Etho’s fins jerked in acknowledgment of the words or maybe surprise, but either way they still took their time answering. Not unusual for mermaids, but a little stressful when time was so limited.

‘I come from the ocean. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the deep, but I do not miss it.’

‘You don’t?’

‘I’ve found my place.’

‘Do you have friends? Family? Do they know where you’ve gone? I could take a message if you’re trapped.’

‘Not necessary. I left the deep of my own will long before this happened to me.’

Mumbo paused in his swimming, concern disrupting his pace, ‘And you don’t miss it? At all?’

Etho swam a little faster, irritation rippling through their fins. ‘It doesn’t matter how I feel. Nothing will change.’

Well that seemed like answer enough, didn’t it. Even setting out to leave the deep of your own will, there was still the option of returning. Of visiting, even if you don’t intend on staying. Plenty of mers venture to different seas; open skies, warmer waters; there’s plenty of reason to travel, and beyond that, plenty of reason to leave. The deep was not a perfect place. It was dark and cold and often unexciting. Not counting the time his tail was sprained, Mumbo had never eaten better than when he was near the surface- had never felt better; it was like this is where he was meant to be. Where mermaids were meant to be.

But the deep had heart. It had love and song and strangers who would fight for you tooth and nail without even knowing your name. Mumbo didn’t know many mers’ names actually, but he still knew dozens by shape, song, and skill. He was known similarly; the eccentric mer who liked to visit the surface, greeted upon his return with amused and/or exasperated chirps and clicks. And that was lovely. To have mers know you, recognize you, and swim beside you in a silently nosey gesture, wondering what you brought home this time.

‘I would miss it.’

Etho bared their teeth and Mumbo slowed his pace, letting Etho widen the gap between them. ‘Congratulations.’

‘I only say it because I have things from home. I brought them for the humans to show. You’re welcome to them. To look or to keep.’

Etho stopped short.

Their tail waved idly, keeping control over their place in space, but other than that they were still, thought rippling ever so slowly through their fins. Mumbo wondered what they were thinking. What they might be hoping to see. Etho was silent for a long while and Mumbo maintained the respectful distance between them while they processed.

‘What do you have?’

Mumbo left them without another word, motioning for Etho to stay. As much as Mumbo sympathized with the.. whatever was going on with them.. he still didn’t want Etho anywhere near his hideaway.

But Mumbo did get homesick. He couldn’t imagine not being able to go home at all.

As quickly as he could Mumbo returned with his bag, the bulky thing strapped a tad awkwardly over his shoulder. It had been a pain in the ass to lug up to the surface, but Mumbo had imagined how excited his humans would be when he showed them his trinkets, and that had made the weight feel a little lighter. This was even better.

Settling on an outcrop close to the surface but far from the shore, Mumbo undid the straps. Neither of them needed to speak. Away from humans, it was easier to remember the twitches and flicks that meant ‘it’s okay,’ ‘go ahead,’ ‘yes,’ ‘no.’ There was nothing to distract them, nothing loud and hyperactive to take the attention away from each other, disrupting an integral part of their language. A brush of fins asking ‘Can I?’ just as if they were in the dark. Of course Etho could, and Mumbo let himself drift back, still holding the bag down but giving Etho a little space.

Etho did not want Mumbo to know how they felt. They kept their fins stick stiff, not relaxed, never relaxed, but Mumbo could still see it in the quiver of Etho’s fingers, the suppressed twitching of their pale fins. Mumbo saw it in the care Etho lent to the mer tools for building and for tinkering, the children’s toys, the notoriously uncomfortable clay paint Mumbo was pretty sure all mers hated but still wore to nice events regardless. Etho stopped short at the puzzle box Mumbo produced specifically for them to see, delighted to see a wave of emotion break through Etho’s stubborn facade as they took the toy in their hands, immediately beginning to fidget with it.

‘I used to love these,’ they said, the first words between the two of them in ages. Mumbo didn’t need to speak to communicate his agreement, basking in the relief of this, of silence, of not having to speak like humans do. Briefly, Mumbo mourned the loss of his own puzzle cube, the human puzzle, but excitement overtook him once more when he realized how entertained he’d be trying to find it again. For now though, he was content to watch Etho fiddle with the mer puzzle, the child-esc joy delightfully palpable. Etho solved it quickly, separating the two pieces to reveal the caged pearl inside, the indicator you had won. They clicked the toy back together, placing it back in Mumbo’s bag before continuing to explore it with great enthusiasm, fins twitching and waving and flicking in the wake of their broken facade.

All movement stopped the moment Etho’s hand found something Mumbo couldn’t yet see, fins flattening as they pulled the small music box from the bag. The instrument was delicate of course, not just thrown haphazardly inside but stored in an intricate box, the engravings of which any mermaid would recognize. They were items of great importance; spiritual, educational tools, or otherwise, and mermaids often kept copies of their favorite songs for when they were alone, when they needed a song that no one was around to sing for them.

Mumbo had brought two, intending on giving them as gifts. For Scar he chose Healing, which he figured was appropriate. For Grian; the box Etho held now, Mumbo brought Love.

With utmost care, Etho gingerly removed the instrument from the box, winding it back with uncertain fingers. The focus they paid to the music box was intense, like they and the instrument were the only things on the planet, like Mumbo wasn’t even there. Finally, Etho let the music play, closing their eyes as they listened. It lasted a while; Etho had winded it quite far, maybe to make sure it looped in its entirety.

But the waters were quiet and calm, and Mumbo didn’t mind at all. He waited until the notes tapered off to speak, gently disturbing the trance laid out over the water as Etho moved to wind the box again.

‘Do you want to sing?’

Etho, whose fins had relaxed at this point, lowered them once more, tail swishing in an uncertain ‘No’ gesture. ‘It’s been too long. I’m no good.’

‘Neither am I. Nearly failed all my classes.’

Etho looked skeptical, an expression that said ‘Really.’ without words.

‘No, not exactly. But my memory is abysmal and I can never bring myself to practice. Really bites me in the tail when I have to do.. anything at all. I keep accidentally putting those humans to sleep!’

Etho found that amusing, but their fins soon fell, discomfort twitching across their back. They glanced at the music box in their hands, fingers dancing around the crank. Mumbo cocked his chin, ‘Go on,’ and Etho dipped their head, doing just that.

This time when the music played, Mumbo sang along.

After five more rounds of winding, Etho finally joined him, timid at first, but by the sixth go, they too were singing in earnest. Mumbo felt their stress flaking away like leaves on the wind, and he too felt a little bit lighter.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #hermitfic #gtws #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #etho #ethoslab #mumbomaid au

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the-horizon-lounge3041 · 5 days

Text

Talanah’s discoveries on the Red Harpy + Aloy POV

After getting screamed at by a harpy I set free, I sat for a minute wondering why she let me live. Was it because I let her live? Or are Harpys not what we think. My father would definitely be disappointed in me if he saw what I did, but I couldn’t do it. She looked frightened, probably more frightened than I was. Not long after I freed her, I decided to follow her although I’m positive that roar she gave me was a don’t follow me roar. But too bad, I want to know more about Harpys now that she spared me.

I walked and walked and walked, till I found this nice little cove. Has this always been here? It’s beautiful. But suddenly a flash of red darted in front of me, it was startling, I then saw the harpy gently float down towards the ground of the cove, that’s when I decided to get a closer look. She kept flapping violently towards the sky, her wing must’ve been broken from when I shot her down. She tried one more time before falling onto the ground hard, I heard her groan in pain, this poor thing. She then tried swiping at the fish in the water with her claws, great. So she’s injured, she’s definitely hungry, and has no one to help her. I sat there and gave things some thought. Tomorrow, I’m going to approach her again, without weapons to show I mean no harm.

I returned to the cove hearing roars from the harpy, she sounded upset. I quietly made my way down there until I slipped and landed on some moss, the roaring stopped, I was in trouble now for sure. I waited a bit to see if she would come around but she never did, I decided to sit down and wait to see if I saw anything, I started to feel hungry so I decided eat my meat sandwich.

Aloy POV

It was her again, the Carja that shot me down. I hid behind a rock and decided to watch her for a bit before I pounced, did she not get the message I gave her? Guess she doesn’t understand harpys can actually talk or understand harpy roars. I did use my harpy voice instead of speaking human, but never mind all of that, she did this to me now she will pay the price for following me.

I got behind a rock, ready to pounce but then I heard crunching?…I looked at the Carja and she was eating a sandwich…a meat sandwich to be exact, and it smelled so good. I realized I was drooling and my stomach was aching with hunger, I decided that meat sandwich was going to be my meal, but how do I get it? And so, I tapped her shoulder, quickly snatched the sandwich, and retreated behind a rock to go eat my meal. It was so delicious, but then…I heard that girl again.

Talanah POV

“HEY WHERE DID MY SANDWICH GO?” I asked angrily, I looked behind the rock and saw the red harpy eating it. She stopped and tried to fly off again, she kept failing and hurting herself. I asked her to calm down and let me help, but the harpy just roared loudly. I told her to please quiet down and she suddenly stopped, I tried to get her to calm down and let me see her wing. She growled when I took steps towards her, and I definitely was not risking getting scratched by her. I then asked if she ate my sandwich and she nodded, All I thought was….Great.

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panxramic · 2 months

Text

The Pirate and the Siren

Chayanne loved the ocean, loved the feeling of the wind blowing in his hair, the taste of the salty air, and the sound of the waves splashing against the ship's side.

Out here, in the ocean, he felt free. There was nothing holding him back. The waters were HIS domain, his home.

Nothing could drive Chayanne out of the sea. Not the deathly battles, the terrible storms, or even the monsters that lurked in the water down below. From krakens to leviathans the ocean harbored dangerous creatures. Some beings even seemed harmless, like the one currently under the waves.

The ship is not moving, it’s offshore of an island as the rest of the crew went out to gather some supplies. Chayanne stayed behind on the ship, leaning against the rail lost to the sounds of the water below. His eyes are closed, taking in every bit of the calm serene ocean.

Two slitted eyes peak above the water to the lone pirate on the boat. Mischief laced in the small smirk they display. The creature dunks back below water, swimming up to the ladder on the side of the boat.

Their scaley hands grab onto the ropes, tugging harshly making sure it is secured. They smile. Sharp teeth peek out of their mouth, a small hiss of happiness escapes as they hull themselves up into one of the safety boats.

The pirate above them is still unmoving, eyes still closed and unaware of the commotion below him.

The creature picks themselves up by the ship's edge, head peeking through the bottom of the rails. They reach for his feet, but before their claws could swipe at him he is jumping over the railing and onto the safety boat as well.

Chayanne takes out his sword and points it directly at the creature's head, “Didn’t think I could hear you?”

Below his weapon was one of the most dangerous creatures Chayanne thinks you would ever find at sea. A beautiful magical being that can fog your mind and entrance you. It was almost impossible to fight off a being like this, one that could haunt your memories, lure, and bait you. A being half human half fish. Shiny shimmery scales decorated their body from head to tail fin. They were ruthless as much as they were astounding. A siren, one song and Chayanne would be done for.

This one was smaller than most, a kid around Chayanne’s age. She had dark black hair and white and purple scales. A necklace with a red flower sat on her chest and a few bits of purple coral sprouted on top of her head below her gills. She looked like she was wearing a crown, and she also looked angry.

With one swipe she swished her tail and sent Chayanne flying off the boat into the water below. The siren growled and peeked over the boat into the water where the young pirate had fallen.

A big gasp and a cough came out of him as Chayanne broke through the surface, “That was mean.”

The siren rolled her eyes, “Oh shut up you pointed a sword at me first.”

“Because you tried sneaking up on me!”

“Yeah and I was doing a great job wasn’t I?” The siren flashed her teeth with a wicked smile.

“Sure you were.”

“What’s that supposed to mean??” She huffs and crosses her arms, cheeks puffing out.

Chayanne giggled, “I missed you Tallulah.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Now can you please help me up and get off the boat? The others are going to be back soon.”

“That’s no way to treat your little sister Chay. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

He sighs, “I know you can, I’m worried about them.”

She laughs, “Hust one little song? Pleaaaaseee.”

“Lullah!” He scolds.

“Fine! You’re lucky I love you.” She gives a half hearted side eye.

“Yeah yeah whatever, love you too. Now go, I’ll meet you at the cove as always okay? Just give me a day to get some things ready.”

“Okay okay I’ll meet you there, see you hermanito!”

“See ya!”

The siren jumps down into the water and waves to her older brother. One blink and she’s gone into the water below.

Chayanne smiles down at his wrist, a bracelet with a red flower as a charm. Tallulah had given it to him a long time ago, when they first had crossed paths. He was human, she was a siren, and yet they loved and cared for each other as any regular siblings would. The sea was their home.

He should probably get out of it though.

#qsmp tallulah #qsmp chayanne #marv writes #the pirate and the siren au

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thejediscrolls · 10 months

Text

You Drew Stars

Hunter x Jedi reader

A choice will be made.

Angst

Pt 8 to You Drew Stars

“Omega?” Hunter called out for the young girl once again.

He’s lost track of the time he has spent looking for her and that was only because he was on the other side of the island when Wrecker brought this to his attention. She’s been disappearing and quiet a lot lately and of course he knew the reason why. How everyone could see the once bright girl was no longer cheerful, but how could she be?

Hunter knew he was close to finding her. There was only three known spots of hers that she could be at and he could already sense her presence and the way her heartbeat picked up the closer he got.

“I know you’re here, kid.” Hunter sighed as he stood along the cove, “You’ve been distant all day... Longer than that.” He whispered the last part, “Everyone is worried about you. Wrecker hasn’t even gone near fishing, said he’s been waiting for you.”

She didn’t want to respond, she just couldn’t get the words out. She just wanted to enjoy the waves of the ocean gently hitting the shoreline alone.

Another breath left Hunter’s lips when he earned no witty response in return, “Kid… What’s wrong?” He asked, his tone more gentle and soft spoken.

Omega huffed at the persistency of her brother even though she knew that he meant well.

“It’s been three months…” Omega finally answered as she poked at the sand with a stick, “Three months, thirteen days-”

Hunter could barely see her small form hiding around one of the rocks by the cove.

“And six hours… I know kid.” He sighed as he took in the beautiful sea before him.

Hunter hated to admit it out loud, but he had been counting the days as well.

There was a moment of serenely, a pause before Omega spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper, but Hunter heard. His enhanced hearing could be a blessing and a curse.

“It’s different.” She whispered.

“What is?” Hunter already knew the answer, but this is the most he’s heard from her since…

“Everything!” Now her voice raised as frustration and anger took over her form.

For a second she reminded him of Crosshair as he watched the stick she was holding fly into the air and into the shallow depths of the ocean before reappearing to float away.

Hunter had an ache in his chest knowing that they would have gotten along quite well if only Crosshair had given them a chance…

“Everything’s different. I can’t sleep because I don’t have her stories to listen to. I don’t like the food because it’s not hers. I always forget to tie my short or brush my hair. Everything is at a standstill here and-” She huffed as she ran a hand through her hair, “I can’t…”

He let the young girl rant, choosing to sit on the opposite side of the rock.

Hunter knew what the kid was going through. He has put up a pretty good front to the new community that they’ve been gracefully accepted into as well but… He hasn’t felt like himself either.

Day by day the realization that his General was truly gone chipped away at his nerve, piece by piece. Yet he still tried to hold on and be a leader from his family even if one of them was… Gone.

“I miss my mom.” Omega said finally, her voice trailing off into a quiet whisper.

Hunter closed his brown eyes, leaning his head back against the rock. The sun felt warm against his skin, but did little to warm the empty m chill in his heart.

“I know kid…” He repeated those words to her and they were once again left in that numbing silence.

I know…

That’s all he can say at this point.

If only he could just bring her back…

He would…

“She would have liked it here.” Hunter murdered.

Omega let out a broken laugh as she wiped away her tears, “I think it’s a bit too peaceful for her.”

Hunter chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. For a Jedi she is-was quite adventurous.”

“Yeah…” Omega agreed.

“Come on. Wrecker wanted to show you something.” Hunter said as he stood up, “Like I said, he’s been waiting all day for you. I think you’ll like it.”

As he held his hand out towards her and he could only hope that Wrecker will be able to take the poor girls mind off of her loss, at least for a little while.

Maybe he could grab a drink. That seems to work these days.

…

It was the beeping that startled me at first.

The sound rang through my ears, echoing through the darkness I saw. I didn’t notice it at first, but panic quickly settled in when I realized that I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t do anything…

Why can’t I move? What happened? I wondered as I began to come to.

My limbs felt heavy, tugging to the cold metal that lied underneath me.

Metal… That’s… A good sign right? It must mean that I’m back on the ship?

Images began to flood my mind as I remembered the events on that docking bay.

Did the others end up saving me? Did Tech make it? He must have… I have to believe that he did.

I wanted to open my mouth, to call out for them and yet my mind was stuck motionless against my body.

Why can’t I speak? Why can’t I do anything? How long have I been out?

“She’s beginning to wake up.” A female voice that I had no recollection of said just to my left.

That’s not Omega. Was my first thought and panic began to settle in.

“Give her another shot of the sedative.” It was a male voice that spoke up this time.

Definitely not one of the boys… I’m not back home am I?

I tried to remember everything that happened hoping that I can piece together the truth.

This couldn’t be a real hospital, no… I must have been captured then, but by who? Who in the empire would want me alive rather than dead…

It was then I remembered the lengths I had to go through to make sure Tech lived… I used the force and now…

They know who I really am.

“She can’t wake up until the doctor is ready to see her.” The man said.

No! I wanted to shout at them, but I could already feel myself beginning to fade as a needle pressed into my skin.

What is… Happening to me? Help… Somebody please.

Hunter…

…

“Echo will be arriving soon.” Tech walked up to the bar, a warm low light from the hanging lanterns glowed over him and his brother.

Tech found himself standing beside the brooding soldier. Someone who looked less like a soldier and more like an unraveling piece of string, his brother.

“That’s good news.” Hunter nodded his head not really paying attention to his brother, “It’s been a while since he stopped by, Rex has been putting him on a lot of missions lately.”

Tech agreed, “Echo is one of the best so there’s no reason why Rex wouldn’t.”

Hunter nodded and soon his focus was towards the purple liquid in his drink that changed to a blue every time he swirled it around.

“I have information…” Tech’s voice trailed off nervously, he couldn’t calculate Hunter’s reaction

“About?” Hunter drawled out with a furrowed brow.

“Echo stated over the comms that he has obtained coordinates that would lead us straight to Crosshair.” Tech said as gently as he was capable too, he was glad that he confided with Phee first before presenting this to Hunter.

He also knew the mention of their brother’s name would light a fuse in Hunter and for as much as Tech wanted to be wrong, he was right once again.

Tech continued when he got no answer, “This time it’s real. No side mission, no puzzle. We know where Crosshair is. We can bring him back home.”

“No.” Hunter stated sternly.

“For all he has done, he is still our brother.” Tech pushed, “He deserves to be saved. Wrecker and I think…” He was cut off before he could finish.

“Yeah? And look where that got us last time. She’s dead because we tried to save our brother who so clearly doesn’t want to be saved.” Hunter said as he took a big gulp of his beer.

“Crosshair is located on Mount Tantiss. Wrecker, Echo and I have already looked over the layout and we agree that it can be done.” Tech continued, hoping to persuade his sergeant.

“No. I’m done putting anymore lives at risk. Stop asking.” Hunter grunted.

“The General would have done it.” Tech stated firmly.

That seemed to have lit a spark of anger within the old sergeant as he slammed his glass down and finally looked at his brother with a pointed glare. He stood as he spoke, rising to his full height which didn’t compare to his brother, but intimidated the taller soldier none the less.

“Don’t you dare. Bring her into this.” Hunter spat, “She is gone because we tried to save crosshair, the brother who betrayed us for the empire. He made his choice. I will not… I refuse to loose anyone else die. Do you hear me?”

“Yes… Sir.” Tech nodded stiffly before taking his data pad and walking away as his brother slumped back into his seat with a defeated sigh.

“What did he say?” Phee asked Tech the moment she saw him.

His shoulders were slumped more than usual and she knew that the little conversation didn’t go too well.

“He said no.” Tech confirmed solemnly.

Phee placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “We’ll get through to him.”

…

“It seems her vitals are stable, though I would have preferred it if the storm troopers didn’t shoot up my second most prized possession. It is rare to find a Jedi now a days.” Doctor Hemlock studied the Jedi who laid motionless on the table.

“Yes.” Emerie agreed as she checked on the Jedi’s vitals, “She seems to have integrated smoothly into the healing process after the mechanical replacement to her right arm.”

“How is her arm?” He wondered as he stared at the silver steel, it matched perfectly with her left arm in shape and length, down to her fingers.

“There has been no complications and it seems to be functioning properly as well.” Emerie confirmed.

“That’s good news. Good work.” Hemlock commended his scientist, “And do we know which Jedi she is? If she fought in the clone wars? If she was highly regarded?”

“No doctor.” Emerie shook her head.

“Well… We’ll find out soon enough.” Hemlock smirked as he watched the Jedi began to wake up.

“Hello little Jedi.”

That voice sent a chill down my spine as I finally blinked my eyes open.

“Where…” I cleared my throat as I tried to get my bearings.

I was in a room that shined in a full silver. It almost looked like a hospital room, but I doubted it with the lack of medical equipment and the cuffs around my wrists.

“Who are you?” I finally asked as I looked to the man with the white coat.

His smile and vacant look in my eyes didn’t help the uneasiness in my stomach. Something was just not right about him… It was almost wicked… Dark…. Just who is this man?

“I am Royce Hemlock, but you may call me Doctor Hemlock.” He stated, “And who might you be?”

I said my name slowly, almost above a whisper as I studied him and the other woman in the room.

“Ah…” A flicker of acknowledgment flashed before his eyes, “Might you be the General who served in the clone wars? You are… The Jedi master Aayla Secura’s prodigy are you not?”

Heading my old master’s name again after so long, had tears welling my eyes. I didn’t give him a reply and I suppose that was answer enough when he clapped his hands together with glee.

“Oho! Look here, we have one of the best General and killer to ever grace the battlefield. This is going to be much more exciting then I had originally planned.”

“What do you mean? I am of no use to you.” I furrowed my brows as the cuffs on my hands unlocked, “The Jedi are no more. I am not more, just let me go…”

It was then that I noticed the glinting color of steel where my arm should be. My eyes widened in fear as a gasp left my lips.

“Oh don’t worry, we didn’t do that on purpose, a blaster shot had left your right arm completely immobilized and mangled so we did you a favor.” Hemlock stated with a wave of his hand, “Good as new.”

“Now follow me and don’t try any tricks. I’ve spent quite some time studying your kind exclusively and so I know how kind works. One click of this button and a shock will be sent through your right arm and towards your heart and well… I’m sure you can guess what would happen then.” He smirked as he waved the small device in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

I really was captured by the enemy… Why couldn’t they have just let me die? What do they have planned… I honestly didn’t want to know the answer to my last question.

He didn’t even wait for me as he began walking out of the room.

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked him as I looked at my body and found that my wounds had been healed.

“Almost a month and with the bacta tank your wounds are nothing more than scars.” He said casually.

My brows furrowed, “Just what kind of a doctor are you?”

“I’m a chief scientist of the advance science division. My specialty is studying dna and…”

I cut him off.

“Clones.” I muttered in disbelief as I took in the sight before me.

We walked past cells with clone troopers trapped inside, a whole lot of them that it would take hours to count, maybe even days.

Each soldier looked malnourished and drained of energy, only a shell of what they use to be. It made my heart ache wondering if my boys could end up like this… If Omega…

Suddenly I wish for them to never find me.

No. It’s safer where they are. They must assume that I died so if I can’t find a way out of here myself then I hope they never find out the truth. Their lives are more important.

“Why yes, I’m in charge of the imperial cloning program.” Hemlock nodded not even bothering to glance at any of the soldiers he has kidnapped.

“They… They don’t deserve this.” I shook my head as I ran to one of the cells. The trooper could barely even look up at me as I tried to open his cell, “This isn’t right! It’s inhumane! You can’t just keep them in cells, they are human beings too! They deserve a choice.”

“No they do not. They are clones who are serving their purpose and I wouldn’t try to help them if I were you.” His voice grew dark as he reached for the remote in his pocket, “You’re able to walk around this facility as a courtesy. As long as you comply, there will be no reason to how do clones say? Ah yes. Decommission you.”

I slowly stepped back as my heart reeled with pain, “Please. Let them go. The clone wars are over. There is no use for cloning anymore, let these soldiers have their peace.”

“I am afraid I can’t.” He shook his head, “This is by the order of the empire and these clones here are highly regarded and needed to complete my project.”

“You mean they are just Guinea pigs for you to experiment on.” I spat at him with a glare.

“Not just them.” He walked into an open room with clones strapped to tables by a machine, “But you as well.” He turned towards me.

“What?” I furrowed my brows before I felt a prick in my neck.

“You my dear… Are going to be very important to my experiment. I’ve studied others like you of course, but it always ended in travesty. But just imagine! If I could finally figure out how Jedi are intertwined with the force and you would help me accomplish that! For the will of science. It is a great honor if I do say so myself.”

I shook my head as I took a step back, feeling my legs begin to wobble, “I don’t want to have any part of this.”

“I didn’t say you had a choice.” His eyes darkened as he stared at me, “You will either live here or die here. That is the only choice you have.”

“Besides, I’d love to see how a prized killer like you ticks hm?” His voice slowly got slower with every passing second, “Comply and you will see tomorrow, little Jedi.”

I felt hands lock around my arms and I found myself being dragged. I could barely make out one of the tables that was set up for me.

“Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing… For now.” His voice drifted away as I closed my eyes.

Not aware of my surroundings. Not aware of the clone with the significant tattoo knocked out a few tables away.

I felt like I was a child again, watching my home burn up in flames from the war. It was the first time in a while that I felt truly scared. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek as I my mind faded once again.

I want to go home.

“Start the reprogramming immediately. By the time we’re done with her she will obey us completely and running tests on her will go much more smoothly.” Dr. Hemlock stated with a nod, “Valuable dna and a Jedi general. She will fit here nicely.”

“But what about the clone over there.” Emerie pointed over at Crosshair, “Records show she was apart of Clone Force 99.”

Dr. Hemlock’s chuckle rang throughout the room, “This day just keeps getting better and better. This Jedi right here is our ticket to the clone girl and we’ll use him to keep her in line until the reprogramming is complete.”

Taglist

@dragonrider9905 @sarahskywalker-amadala @spacebaby1 @cocolinagoodnight @that-one-potato-girl @originalcollectionartistry @arctrooper69 @brynhildrmimi @ttzamara @sunipostsstuff @fandomtrashwhore @i-just-like-to-read @kanakarbakar @dramamouse-blog @gisselleherrerasposts @quince-xd @sunshinesdaydream @dangraccoon @solstraalaa @thesirenscallmelo @darkangel4121 @curious-cat-10-6 @dollyniini @urfriendlyneighbornightfury @red-plaidedandcladed @eternalwaffles @thesirenscallmelo @sunipostsstuff @idoubleswearimawriter @nerdyglasess @dragonrider9905 @nick-djarin @mysticcreatorfox @aeryntheofficial @originalcollectionartistry @elp-art @sunipostsstuff @andrakass2 @dangraccoon @motte-the-goblin @the1sunshine1girl @endofthexline @dalu-grantkylo @not-reilly @leafyturtle @waytoooldforthis78 @immarriedtorex @kixismybestfriend @endofthexline @pheesupremacy @kittykatslender @gisselleherrerasposts @onyxtides

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fleshdyke · 2 years

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new equo design + more info under the cut

equo’s story takes place in some sort of magic au some time between darkstalker and the main arc, somewhere around 1200 years after darkstalker was defeated. in this au, magic is a vague and widely defined concept separate from animus powers, and it’s a pretty normal thing and considered a gift. witchcraft is possible, but it’s considered very taboo to talk about.

equo’s father was a seawing and her mother a nightwing, and he’s the result of a failed attempt to resuscitate the nightwing population via hybrids. the idea was to raise hybrid nightwings on the mainland so they would grow up healthy and take them back to the volcanic island once they reached adulthood, but not all of the dragonets were found, and equo was one of the ones that was never brought back. the nightwings had meticulous records of every dragonet, though, and kept looking for her and any other missing nightwing hybrids.

they were raised by its father on a tiny islet in the bay of a thousand scales, hidden in a cave or bushes for most of the day. equo has always loved swimming, and while he was limited to a little cove for most of his dragonethood, she’s very good at it. they’ve always suffered from chronic pain, so he usually prefers walking to flying and swimming over all else, but she can fly and isn’t bad at it. equo’s always preferred meat over plants, no matter how much their father tried to get it to eat a much more plant-heavy diet like most seawings have. for the most part, equo grew up on fish, occasionally something else her father brought back like turtle or whale or seabird, but when he was old enough to fly and fend for herself, equo started to regularly hunt passing seabirds as they preferred a “meatier” taste as opposed to fishy like most of the stuff her father brought back. equo had always had an appreciation for the macabre, kept bones from prey as much as possible, and his father always encouraged it. when equo was ten, they set out on their own, at first sticking to the forested fringes of the sky kingdom where she could still regularly visit his father, but slowly migrating further inland and visiting less and less until they were completely self-sufficient.

at fifteen, equo lives in the woods between the sky kingdom and the rainforest, and has built himself a pretty good little home. she’s built her home half out of a cave, with a small coop of chickens and a couple small plots of crops. he’s built it all by hand and prides themselves on how sufficient she is with its talons. they also fashioned themselves leg braces to help with her chronic pain and wears them most of the time. she found a hobby in taxidermy and bone collecting, and spends a good chunk of his time doing just that. their house is decorated with taxidermy animals, wet specimens, disassembled and whole articulated skeletons, rocks and crystals she finds, random bones and pelts and feathers etc etc, tapestries she’s woven by hand, things like that. he’s most proud of his fullbody mounted stag and great horned owl, and has entire shelves of skulls on display. she has a colony of dermestid beetles for cleaning bones, as well as luna moth tents because they’re its favourite insect. she also has two pet crows that were both siblings found on the ground after their nest had been attacked by a predator, and they’re both very much bonded to him.

while equo was hatched on a full moon and granted seer powers, they didn’t manifest in the same way that an average nightwing’s would because of his seawing blood. she also practices witchcraft and necromancy, and is capable of bringing an animal back from the dead as long as the body is in good condition. they use witchcraft to make itself appear different to others, usually in a much more shadowy, fluid-like, monster-y form, but also sometimes can make herself appear invisible. he also likes to make light shows and other unnatural phenomena using his witchcraft, and sometimes even makes potions in a very traditionally witchy way. completely unknown to them, equo’s become known among the rainwings and more southern skywings as a sort of cryptid/monster that lives in the woods. she’s seen as a large, dark, spiny dragon that causes the death of any animals (and presumably dragons) it comes across, with glowing eyes and strange powers that allows him to teleport and be in multiple places at once. ironically, being a witch or necromancer isn’t part of her reputation. they’re completely unaware of the fact that other dragons know of it, much less that they’re scared of her. equo meets tiki after her hawk falls ill and she becomes desperate and seeks out the necromancer in the woods, but their full story is for another post.

#she’s sooo much lighter than he was before #as much as i liked the darker scales it made it much harder to draw them so yk #i do like their new design though. its cool #rambles #art #my art #wof #wings of fire #wof oc #wings of fire oc #nightwing #nightwing wof #seawing #seawing wof #my ocs #equo

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millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

I Only See Daylight - 20

Chapter Twenty

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!AFAB!Reader

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings/Tags: smut, SUPER loving sex, skinny dipping, piv sex, tenderness, found family, mentions of scars/insecurity

Chapter Length: 8k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist

notes: if you've seen any of my recent tumblr posts or updates on the fic tag, you'll know i've been having MAJOR tech problems, as well as various Life Problems too! hence why this took an ABSURD amount of time to update! i am SO sorry, i can only apologise and offer this new chapter that i hope was worth the insane wait. thankfully i have my laptop back and didn't lose any of the fic, so all is well again. (i'm still sick tho). anyway, enough from me - let's get to what you're here for! enjoy ♥︎

recap: reader and din are on the run from the cult that raised her, and they're escaping to D'Qar to hide out while they wait for the aid of boba fett, who is hoping to make a deal with the cult for reader's freedom.

and now i see daylight, i only see daylight

There’s nothing but green as you fly over the jungles of D’Qar. Despite living in forestland for years, it’s never lost on you—the beauty of it.

Din finds a tiny clearing to just about fit the ship in. It’s beneath the cover of a mountain, tucked away in a huge cove of rocks, rivers, and waterfalls. When you first see the space, you’re not sure he’s going to be able to manage it; it looks so small. But he knows the size of his ship, and he knows exactly how to manoeuvre it, so he lands just perfectly on the flat, rocky ground in the clearing.

It’s only a few hours until sunset, Din says, but you and the kid are excited to get out and have a look around. So as soon as everything’s secure, you lower the ramp, instantly hit with the warm, humid atmosphere of the jungle surrounding you. It’s somehow loud and quiet all at once; rushing water is close by and all kinds of wildlife are tweeting, chirping, croaking, whether in the trees or in the brush. The late evening sun is lowering, casting a golden-red glow through the tall, evergreen trees that surround you.

A river runs underneath the ship. It’s only small, probably shallow enough for even the kid to stand up in. But it’s running quickly and downhill, winding around damp rocks covered in moss. The waterfall feeds into the lake just ahead; this is probably one of the offshoots from it.

“You like it?” Din’s modulated voice says over your shoulder.

You turn to him, the kid in your arms. “We like it,” you confirm, smiling.

Grogu is leaning over towards the river, making grabbing motions at it. He seems fascinated by the running water. He probably also wants to look for fish and frogs to eat in it, too. You know him well.

“Not tonight, kiddo,” you tell him apologetically, straightening the collar of his robe. “We can explore some more tomorrow. We’ve been travelling a while, haven’t we?”

His ears turn down sadly. He looks at you, gives the Pleading Eyes.

As cute as he is, you’re not as much of a sucker as Din. (He’d never admit to it. Ever. But you know that he is, when it comes to Grogu.) You give him a little smile and a shake of your head. “Sorry, kid. Your dad and I are tired. We can explore all you like tomorrow, though; we’re here for a few days.”

Grogu looks to Din, like he’s asking for a second opinion.

He sighs, long-suffering. “Kid,” he says, so rueful it’s almost comical, “sorry, but I agree. I’m not gonna go against her word, you know that.”

Your heart swells.

Grogu looks significantly less pleased by Din’s words, though.

And, boy, does he let you know it.

You’d been hoping that maybe you and Din could have some alone time tonight. Really take your time, enjoy it, make each other feel like nothing bad in the Galaxy will ever touch any of you again. It’s what you both need right now.

But Grogu has other plans.

He refuses to settle.

In hindsight, it makes sense. You’ve been in hyperspace for days with no fresh air and no opportunity for him to use up some energy. And he’s been so good with sleep all this time, despite the fact that his days have been pretty dull and routine. Really, he was overdue a hyperactive night. He’s just a little kid, after all, and he’s done this a few times while you’ve been with them, especially since extended periods stuck in hyperspace have become a thing. He usually crashes and falls asleep where he stands by a few hours before the day cycle begins.

But, kriff. You’re so tired. You hadn’t realised just how much sleep has been helping you heal until it’s been six hours since the moons rose, it’s four until they set again, and you’re not just exhausted but starting to ache.

As you remove Grogu from one of the power line tunnels for the seventh time, you feel a soft hand sitting on your shoulder. Plopping Grogu back down on the floor, you look up to find Din beside you with a mug of something steaming in his hand. “You should get some sleep,” he says quietly, then takes Grogu in his arm and hands him the mug. You realise it’s his favourite: a malty, chocolate hot drink that Din always gives him when he’s scared, tired, or he can’t sleep.

Grogu takes it eagerly. He wiggles to get out of Din’s arms, so Din puts him down in his hammock and sits down beside him, resting his elbow on the top of Grogu’s cubbyhole.

“I’m fine,” you lie, suppressing a yawn.

“No, you’re not. Go to bed. He’ll settle soon.”

You look at him. At the tired tilt of his body, leaning against the little door. You can hear the tiny slurps of Grogu enjoying his drink. On nights like these, Din knows the exact right time to give Grogu his hot cocoa, timing it with the oncoming energy crash. It helps bring it sooner, when he does it right.

“Cyar’ika,” Din says softly, calling your attention back to him. You hadn’t even realised that your gaze had slipped away, your eyes blurring over with tiredness. “I mean it. Get some sleep. I’ll come and hold you soon, once he’s settled.”

You sigh. “Alright. But tomorrow, we’re taking him out there, and we’re tiring him the fuck out.”

A tired chuckle comes through the modulator. “Agreed.”

“I’m taking him swimming. He wanted to do that.”

“He’ll love that. Don’t talk about it too much, though, or he’ll think we’re going to do it right now.”

You chuckle, too, even though it hurts. Pushing yourself up from the floor with a groan, you then walk over to Din, and lean down to press a kiss to his helmet. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

He takes a hold of your hand and squeezes it. “Promise.”

You’re asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You don’t know how much longer it is until you feel Din slide in behind you, still wearing his armour, gently wrapping his arm around your waist. “I’m here,” he whispers, quiet enough not to wake you if you were asleep, but loud enough that you’d hear it if you stirred.

Which you do. Just enough to shuffle back into him, take hold of his hand, and fall asleep again.

When the day comes, Grogu wakes with it.

Which you expected. But, still.

Din is already awake and taking him upstairs for breakfast. Tiredly, you follow them, and it’s only because you know him so well that you notice the way Din is standing differently. The way he only does when he’s exhausted.

“I’ll take Grogu out this morning,” you say to Din while he cooks up breakfast for all three of you. “You can catch up on some sleep.”

Din shakes his head. “I want to come.”

“You don’t have to. We won’t go far.”

“I want to come,” he says again, in that tone of voice that says Thank you, but I’m not going to change my mind.

Knowing this, you nod, and sit down at the table beside the kid. He looks bright-eyed and innocent, like he didn’t spend over half the night trying to tear the ship apart.

“Are you going to swim with us?” You ask Din, smiling teasingly.

“I think the beskar might weigh me down,” he replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Who said anything about beskar?”

“You asking me to scar the kid for life by going in naked?”

“Fair point.”

“What are you going to swim in? And the kid?”

“I figure we can change his robe afterwards; this one needs cleaned anyway. And I’m going in my shirt and underwear.”

His helmet tilts towards you for a second, glancing at you. “I’m definitely coming.”

You giggle, and feign shock, “Get a hold of yourself. Not in front of the kid, Mando.”

Chuckling, he dishes up breakfast, and slides two plates across the table for you and Grogu. He takes his own plate, and tells you he’s going to eat in the cockpit. He’s still getting used to eating in front of you. Hell, he’s still getting used to having his helmet off in front of you, period, but he hasn’t eaten at all without it yet. You understand, and it doesn’t bother you. You’re just lucky to have any part of him at all.

The waterfall is just behind the trees a few metres along from the ship, pouring down over a sheer cliff face a ways up the mountain. Green vines and long tree branches hang over it, colourful flies dancing in the rainbow water spray before it hits the lake below. The lake is big, curving around the base of the mountain before it runs down over a rock and splits into little rivers. The water is clear but looks blue and green with the small pebbles and soft, mossy plants that coat the bed of it. It’s hot out here, but pleasantly so, the sun shining brightly in the late-morning blue sky.

Grogu is cooing excitedly in your arms. You’ve got a towel wrapped around your shoulders and a smaller one over one of your arms for him, along with a spare robe. Din follows closely behind.

You stop by the shore of the river, watching as Din lays out a blanket on the ground to sit on. As you turn to look at him, the sun glints brightly off his armour, the bright green of your surroundings reflecting in the beskar and making him look like he’s one with nature. Or, as close as someone covered in metal could look to being one with nature. Your heart swells with warmth as you’re reminded of the first few days you spent together; when so much of your mind was occupied with how he’d look in different lights, in different worlds.

It hits you, for a second, that you’re getting to see it. That you can not only admire the way he’s somehow never looked more silver, but also looks green and brown all at the same time; but also you can tell him how you feel. You can touch that armour, touch him.

The poor kid is trying to get a good look at the water, trying to get you to put him down. But you’re too transfixed by the sight of Din. By the fact that this is everything you ever wanted, since the first moment you heard his voice.

“Cyar’ika?” Din questions, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You snap back to the moment at hand. Finally you put the kid on the ground, and he runs towards the water in an instant. “Sorry,” you say, and glance back at the kid, “Can he swim?”

Din shakes his head. “He won’t go deeper than he can handle. He likes to just splash.” He steps closer again, close enough to put his gloved hand on the underside of your elbow. “Where’d you go, in your head just now?”

Your hand finds his chest plate. You look down, see your reflection in it, the green trees behind you. A smile is on your face before you realise. “You’re beautiful,” you say instead of answering his question. When you look back up at his helmet, it’s tilted slightly, quizzically. “We’ve come a long way,” you whisper.

His thumb rubs over your arm. “I’ve loved every minute.”

Your heart lurches. If you could, you’d lean up and kiss him.

“Kid’s waiting,” Din says, nodding his head over your shoulder.

When you turn around, Grogu is standing in the very shallows, only an inch of water above the hem of his robe. He’s looking at you with a tilted head, his ears turned in a way that asks you a question. You chuckle at the sight of him. “I’m coming, kiddo. You wanna go swimming with me?”

Grinning, he jumps up and down on the spot and waves his hands around a little. Water splashes up around him.

You hear Din chuckle from behind you, then feel the towel start to slip from your clothed shoulders, his hands following in its wake, slowly rubbing down your arms. He hooks his helmet over your shoulder. “Go on,” he says lowly, “I’ll keep watch.”

You turn your head and press your nose into the hollow of his helmet’s cheek, then give him a sunny grin before you run towards the shore, towards the kid who’s looking increasingly excited.

Happiness is warm in your veins, like the sun in the sky, like the feeling of the water on your skin.

After a long swim and a hike around the surrounding hills and forest, the three of you are well and truly hungry. You’d let the warm air dry you out as you walked and picked berries and herbs for dinner, gathering them in Din’s satchel. Grogu started tiring an hour out from the ship, but you coaxed him along with promises of finding some nice insects for him to catch; which he did, and enjoyed every single one.

Now you’re back at the ship, and Din is cooking up some fresh meat with the herbs you picked, while you make a little fruit salad from all the fruit you found in the forest. The sun is setting, Grogu is watching his HoloNet show, and he’s looking very sleepy.

Dinner is what gets him truly ready to sleep. He’s snuggling into Mando’s thigh by the end of it, looking about ready to drop off right there and then and make it his bed for the night. With a soft chuckle, and a knowing glance towards you, Din lifts him up from the sofa and cradles him in his elbow.

“Night, kiddo,” you reach out and run your hand over Grogu’s cheek. His ear twitches in response, his left eye opening just enough to look at you. Din reaches out with his spare hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, then he turns, and heads down the ladder.

You follow after a minute, anticipation stirring low in your belly as you hope for the much-needed night alone with Din. Absently, you listen to the soft sounds of him putting the kid to bed. It doesn’t take long.

Before you know it, Din’s standing in the bed chamber doorway. “He’s out. Like a light.”

“Mission accomplished, then?”

Din nods. “He’s snoring, so we know he’s really asleep.”

You chuckle softly, letting your eyes roam over Din now that you know you have him to yourself. You reach out your hand towards him. “Come to bed?”

He takes your hand, but doesn’t climb into bed. Instead, he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles, and says, “I thought we could go for a swim.”

Oh.

You weren’t expecting that. Somehow, it’s better than what you were expecting, which you didn’t think was possible.

“Yeah?” You just about manage to say, your voice coming out as a squeak as anticipation spikes higher in your chest.

He nods. “It’s a nice night. Moons are out, kid’s asleep…”

You nod, too, and bite your bottom lip. “Din,” you whisper, “are you asking me to go moonlight skinny dipping?”

A lovely chuckle comes through the helmet. He steps closer, reaches out his other hand to brush it down your cheek. “Yes, Mesh’la, I am.”

“Well,” you push yourself up from the bed without another moment to waste, “don’t have to ask me twice. Will the kid be OK?”

“Like I said, he’s out of it. I’ve put a live commlink in there with him, just in case,” he fishes said commlink out of his pocket. Then, with a smirk in his voice, “It’s waterproof.”

Oh, he has planned-planned this. You could not be more thrilled.

It’s still so warm outside. The moons are full and bright, casting a white light over the entire jungle. It reflects on the lake, glimmering in ripples of water and illuminating the waterfall as if it’s made of light itself.

Din has taken off his armour, leaving him in just his flight suit and helmet. You’re wearing the shirt you wore to swim earlier and underwear beneath it. Din reaches for your hand as you pad towards the lake; you’ve never held hands while walking before, and it’s strange, but nice. Definitely unnecessary outside of a situation like this, but, still.

He stops by the shore, and you stop too. The waterfall is loud at the other side of the lake, but calming.

Then, Din starts to take his flight suit off. You’re too distracted by the slow reveal of his skin at first to realise that you should probably be getting undressed too. He just looks ethereal beneath the moons’ glow; it reflects from his helmet and makes his skin glow as he strips off his suit and lets it fall to the floor. He glances at you, knowing you’re watching, and when he pulls off his helmet there’s an amused smirk on his lovely lips.

“You’re looking at me like I’m a show,” he says, leaning down to place the helmet carefully on the grass.

You smile. “You are to me.”

He leans down and kisses you, just once, chaste. Like he can’t help it. Then he takes off his boxers, and he’s naked before you, glowing white in the daylight-like lights shining in the sky. Now you’re really distracted. If you thought naked Din was perfect all wet and tousled in the shower, this is something else entirely. He’s not even wet yet. You can’t wait for him to be wet.

As if reading your mind, he places a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “See you in there.” And he’s off, wading into the water.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you watch him go. The muscles in his back shift as he walks so casually into the lake, brushing at the surface with his fingertips. They leave diagonal trails in the water, like skimming stones. His back is so broad, so muscular, all highlights and shadows in the light.

And his ass. Kriff, that’s the Ass of the Galaxy right there. Glowing under the moonlight, curved just right, muscles shifting with each push of his legs through the water. It’s a shame when he gets in deep enough that it covers him. He turns around when he’s waist-deep and raises an eyebrow.

“Are you coming?”

Probably in more ways than one, yes.

You quickly strip off, feeling self-conscious standing here on the shore in front of him, and wade over to meet him. The waterfall is close now, just on the other side of the lake, rushing down from the mountain. If you get any closer, you’ll probably feel tiny droplets of spray.

You reach your hand out as you approach Din, and he takes it with a soft smile. As you come to a stop in front of him, you look up into his eyes, and all the breath falls from your lungs. Somehow, looking at him like this overwhelms all the other senses in your body. The water is warm around you, and the lake floor is a strange combination of soft and rocky, some plants tickling at your toes. The air is a little humid but nice, comforting, something you’ve not felt before. And the sound of rushing water is all-consuming, covering all noises of the jungle wildlife and even the wild beating of your heart.

And he’s here, naked, his bare and damp skin on show before you.

But his eyes are what holds you. They are what make you feel weak in the knees, what make your fingertips tingle. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Like he knows you.

Like he loves you.

“You are so beautiful,” he says into the space between you, his voice somehow coming up clearer than anything, even above the noise.

You stroke your hand down his cheek, leaving a wet mark there. Then you move to his chest, running through the chest hairs, smiling when his skin rises into goosebumps. You wonder how many times it’s done that when you can’t see it; when it’s hidden behind his armour.

“You’re perfect,” you tell him.

It’s not really quiet enough to talk. Thankfully, you don’t need to.

He pulls you in by the waist and presses your bodies flush together, all warm and wet and bare here beneath the two moons. His arms wrap around your middle, and yours around his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to hook your head over his shoulder. Your hands are wet as they tangle in his hair, press against his shoulder blade, feeling his lips so hot and gorgeous against your neck. He mouths lazily at your skin. Doesn’t suck or bite or even really kiss; just touches you with his lips and his tongue, like he’s trying to take as much of you as possible, like he wants his breath to go into your skin and make you his on the inside, as much as leaving a mark on the outside would.

You let him. You let him, too, when he pulls away and takes your hand, leading you over to the waterfall.

Your eyes don’t leave him the entire time. They don’t need to; he’s guiding you, and you don’t need to watch where you’re going.

He stops in front of the rushing water and looks down at you expectantly, his hand still in yours. You raise an eyebrow in question, to which he responds, “We’re going under it.”

Your eyebrow raises, too. “I love to shower with you, but I think this shower’s flow might be a little too strong.”

He grins. His skin is shining with water spray, making him sparkle. “We just have to go under for a second, then we’re going behind it. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

Always trusting him, you nod, and follow when he tugs on your hand again.

The waterfall is pretty intense as you walk under it; you do it as fast as you can, worried at first that it might hurt you, but it doesn’t. It’d probably feel pretty good against your tired muscles, actually, if it weren’t for the still-healing wounds on your back. Din seems to enjoy it; he stands under the flow for a little longer than you, letting it run over his back and closing his eyes for a second. (You make a mental note to give him a massage one of these days. You don’t know how you haven’t thought about it before.)

Standing behind the waterfall, you’re in a strange sort of cave area, a metre or so in between the flow and the cliff face behind it. The rocks are shining, glistening in the moonlight that comes through the water. When you turn to look out where you came from, you’re amazed by the sight: the bright white of the moons is shining through the wall of water that encases you in this little haven, making each large droplet look like a light, a white flame rushing down towards the lake. It’s like a cascade of stars too dense to see each individual one before it falls.

When you look to Din, the light and shadow from it is dancing across his face. The water that you stand in is sparkling, too, casting a rippling reflection on the skin under his jaw. You’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

“You like it?” He asks you, his voice surprisingly loud as it echoes from the wall.

A smile stretches your lips. “I love it,” you tell him with a nod of your head. You reach out and hold him again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “It’s like our own little hideaway.”

He trails his lips over your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck. His wet hands sit gently on your waist. As he kisses your bare shoulder, paying special attention to the curve of your clavicle, your hands run down over his pecs, fingertips catching on his hardened nipples. Yours are hard, too; you can feel them where they press against his chest.

You close your eyes as he starts to suck a mark at the place where your shoulder meets your neck. One hand runs down his chest, towards his belly button, the other back up into his hair. A pleasured breath releases from your mouth when his hands slide down your body, around to the small of your back and eventually landing on your ass, one hand on each cheek. He squeezes, just lightly. A soft gasp from you is rewarded with an even softer whimper from Din, breathed right into the crook of your neck as he continues to nip at your skin.

“Din,” you whisper, not the start of a sentence, but a statement. Because you’ll never get tired of saying his name. You tighten your hand in his hair, pull on it a little, earning another one of those lovely, soft moans. You feel it vibrating in your neck.

Then he’s moving down, his face coming to rest between your breasts. It feels colder without him pressed right against you, but he’s still close enough for you to touch him just the same, the hand on his tummy running back up through his chest hair, then down his arm.

You gasp as his mouth closes around one of your hard nipples. Your hand in his hair tightens in response, pulls him in even closer, urges him to do it again.

He does, and he sucks it into his mouth. The pull is fucking gorgeous. He’s never done this before; you don’t ever want him to stop. His mouth is so hot and wet, a contrast to the damp sheen on the rest of your skin that’s leaving you with a bit of a chill. You feel his tongue lapping at the underside of your nipple. The texture of it has just the right amount of roughness.

He moves to the other breast and continues his job there. You’re whimpering, barely even hearing yourself, just feeling your chest moving in his mouth as breaths escape your throat.

“Din, that’s…that’s so good…”

He hums his approval. When he pulls his mouth off you, you can just about hear the pop, and you definitely feel the string of spit that connects your skin to his mouth for a second. “If the water was shallow, I’d get my head between your legs, too, Mesh’la…” he breathes as his mouth finds yours again, not giving you a chance to say anything in response before he’s kissing you again, all open-mouthed and hot and breathy. You just moan, surprised and pleased. Your arms wrap all the way around his neck and pull him down into you.

He’s so warm. He’s so him.

His tongue is on yours in a second, pushing and pulling with each give and take of his lips. You let him guide you, pinning him to your face with a firm hand on the back of his neck. His arms are around your waist, holding the rolls of flesh in his palms. It feels so good. He feels so fucking good.

You want him to know that. You need him to know how much you love to look at him, to touch him, to feel him. The coolness of your skin as the night air dries droplets of spray is the most beautiful contrast to the heat of his hands, his mouth, his breath. It’s intoxicating and you will never get enough of this. If his body wasn’t so irresistible to touch, you’d pull back and just stare at him. All kriffing night.

Instead, though, you let your mouth fall from his in favour of trailing your lips across his jaw. They leave a wet trail in their wake. He doesn’t seem to care; in fact, his hands tighten against you when you start to suck at his neck. You use your teeth, pulling his skin into your mouth so hard that you hear it spluttering against the suction of your lips. You want to mark him, too; make sure his skin never forgets the way you feel.

“Cyare…” he groans as you move your face to his chest. Your nose nuzzles into the hair there, one of your hands sliding down to play with his nipple. You suck at the other one and he’s got one hand on your breast now, cupping it in his palm and squeezing with each pull of your mouth. He tips his head back and if you weren’t so occupied with getting his nipple as hard as it can possibly get, you’d lean up and kiss the expanse of that gorgeous neck and mark it up until there were no doubts that he’s yours.

By the time your lips are at his belly button, the water is starting to tease at your chin. You’d go lower if you could.

You tell him as much.

To which he responds with a desperate groan and a hand on the back of your head, bringing you back up to his face. “I need you,” he whimpers, pressing his nose into yours, “I need you, Mesh’la. Please.”

You stroke his face. “You have me. Any way you want me.”

A moan slips past his lips. He falls into you, kisses you slowly for a minute.

“You wanna take me against this rock wall?” You ask him, letting your nails run over the side of his neck, just hard enough to pull a gasp into his throat. “Or take me back to land, fuck me on the shore?”

“Kriff, Mesh’la,” he’s falling apart, his voice just a broken whimper as his hands find purchase on your ribs again and squeeze at the plump flesh. “Whatever you want. I’ll—do whatever you want.”

You smile softly. “As much as I’d love for you to take me here in the lake, the footing isn’t exactly stable, and you know I like it rough…”

Another moan. Good.

You press kisses to his neck, catch the fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily. “Let’s go back to shore.”

Desperate, he nods, and leads you under the waterfall. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks.

You shake your head and smile at him, always appreciating that your comfort comes first, even when he’s this desperate to fuck you. “No. I’m good.”

He practically throws himself onto the grass bank when you’re back on land, pulling you down on top of him. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness. It’s so fucking cute and really kriffing hot that he wants you so badly he’ll just collapse on the riverbank, beneath the silver glow of two moons, completely bare for you and out in the open air, if it means you’ll give him what he wants.

Which you will. You always will.

You lean down over him, palms pressed to the grass on either side of his head. You’re both still wet, dripping into the ground below. Your breasts press into his chest, hair falls into his face. He pushes it out of the way and holds it there, like he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of you.

“Kriff,” he curses softly. You can hear him better now you’re out of the waterfall; can hear the desperation in his voice, how even his breathing is starting to sound like a series of whines. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you…”

“Look at you,” you counter with a smile, feeling your chest bloom with warmth at his compliment. “Under the moonlight like this. Kriff, Din. Don’t you look pretty?”

Breathy, he laughs. He closes his eyes for a second, shakes his head. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not. You do look pretty,” your fingers run through the sparse hair on his jawline. And then, it escapes you in a sigh, an expel of breath like it’s releasing some kind of something by saying it out loud, “Kriff, I love you.”

His eyes open at that. Right into yours, all glowing and watery and adoring. You could look at him like this forever. His hand strokes down your cheek. “I love you,” he tells you. Soft, shaky. Still just a hint of desperation there.

As much as you could look at him like this forever, and stay like this for just as long, there is a distinct throbbing between your legs and a wetness there that definitely did not come from the lake. You’re sure he can feel it; your core is pressed right up against his hips and you can feel his cock there, hard and wet and ready for you.

As if reading your mind, Din’s hand runs down your ribs, over the curve of your hips, then presses between your legs. He dips his fingers into your folds, separates them. “Kriff, you’re so wet already,” he says, gazing up at you as though he’s amazed by it. By you.

“You do things to me,” you tell him with a grin and a shrug, to which he laughs, tipping his head back for a second. You just watch him, warmth not only spreading between your legs but around your heart, too.

His lips kiss messily at your neck as he slips his finger inside you. It’s heavenly; a warm, slick glide of the one digit sending something hot and comforting all the way through you. Your eyes flutter closed when he slowly thrusts in and out. He’s not even trying to achieve anything; he’s just feeling you, appreciating every inch he can get his finger on.

“Din,” you say, already feeling breathless, “more. Please.”

He’s never turned you down. His thumb finds your clit, pushes back the hood and presses gently. Pleasure courses through you again, a jolt for each circle he makes around the bundle of nerves. His other finger joins the first after a moment, but you’re so kriffing ready for him that it’s not enough, you can feel his cock against the inside of your thigh and it’s so close but not close enough—

“Din, I’m ready for you. Are you ready?”

He meets your eyes. He’s looking up at you like you’re the stars in the sky. It sends a shiver down you that has nothing to do with the two fingers he’s pushing in and out of your soaking heat. He nods, then, and says, “Please. I need you. Need to be inside you.”

You nod, too, leaning down to give him a kiss. “Mind if I stay on top?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Mm. Are you gonna beg tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“You could try it,” you say with a smirk as you slide down his body, lift yourself up on your knees above him, “See how I like it.” The ground is damp below you, grass tickling at your skin. You take his cock in your hand, and it’s still wet, but you can’t wait to make it properly wet.

Like it’s an instinct, he reaches out to take hold of your hips. He gazes up at you, and says, “Please, baby. I need to feel you.” He’s so vulnerable like this. Underneath you, naked, bathed in moonlight. He could, of course, overpower you—or anyone who got on top of him—if he wanted to. You never imagined The Mandalorian lying on his back like this for anyone; would never think that it was a place he could feel comfortable, safe. His whole life has been about fighting. About making sure he’s one step ahead.

And yet here he is, spread out before you, so open, bare underneath you, completely at your mercy. Because he wants to be. Because he trusts you.

You line him up at your entrance, but don’t slide onto him right away. You’re enjoying the desperation on his face just a little too much; the wrinkles in his forehead, his brows drawn together, bottom lip pressed under his teeth. With a grin you take a moment to admire in him in the moonlight and, with your hand wrapped around his cock, you slide him up and down through your wet folds.

The look on his face is priceless. His neck strains, he swallows so heavily you see the movement all the way through it, and a whimper comes from him, even better than the ones he’s given already.

“You look so pretty like this,” you tell him, still teasing him. You brush the head of him over your clit and, fuck,that feels good. His hot dick, already leaking and wet from your slick, rubbing over the bundle of nerves like his finger would, but different. Bigger. Rounder.

“That feel good?” Din asks, and it’s only when you hear the smirk in his voice that you realise your eyes have closed. You’re focusing on the feeling, the roundness of his head. Before you know it you’re grinding on it, desperate to feel more of it.

“Kriff,” you gasp, suddenly breathless, “that’s really fucking good.”

“Keep going, if you want.”

You could. You’d love to. The very fact that he’s offering this to you, knowing that it would only delay the part where he’s inside you and getting what he wants, turns you on even more.

But you know how desperate he is. And your heat is practically begging for him to be inside you.

“Feels good for me, too,” he tells you as if sensing your hesitation.

You smile at him. “Later,” you decide. “I want you inside me now.” With one last swipe of his head over your clit, you sigh, and then move your hips up so he’s lined up with your entrance again. Then, you sink down onto him, and kriff, it’s fucking delicious.

The stretch, his heat, the way his dick caresses your walls like they’re something precious as they pulse and throb around him.

He tips his head back and groans. His fingers tighten on your hips and you fucking love it. Love looking at him like this. Stretched-out, lit from the bright light of two moons, the jungle surrounding him and water still sheening over his chest.

You run your hands through his chest hair and sigh as heaven pulses through your core. “Feels so good,” you whisper, biting your lip, “Feels so good, Din.”

“Mm-hm,” he nods and looks back at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

Bracing yourself on his chest with your palms flat against him, you start to move. Instead of thrusting or bouncing, at first you just grind, swaying your hips in circular motions over his cock. It hits against that spot inside you with each circle, and somehow it feels like he’s going deeper than ever before, the tip of him a constant pressure against your cervix. It’s not rough like it usually is, and yet it feels just as good.

One of his hands finds your clit and works it in time with your movements. Heat is already burning inside you, starting between your legs and smouldering up into your stomach and ribcage. You’re losing yourself in your pleasure in an instant, your eyes falling shut as you work yourself on him.

Each grind lifts him in and out of you just a little, just enough for both of you to have some much-needed friction against your walls. But you’re still going round in circles, and it feels so fucking good, having him swirling inside you like this, coating every inch of you on the inside.

“Fuck,” you curse in a whisper, one hand lifting from his chest to grasp at your breast. You squeeze it, remembering how your nipple felt inside his mouth. “Fuck, Din, that’s so good.” Your eyes are closed again, head tipped back towards the sky.

“Yeah?” He says. “You look so perfect. Take what you need, Cyar’ika, you can have it.”

You’re too lost in pleasure to respond. It’s not even sparking, it’s burning, boiling, running over you in a hot wave over and over and over again. He’s so hot inside you, the contrast of his heat to the coolness of your skin just setting everything alight. The head of his cock is pushing against the highest point inside you, just like you like it, but instead of a fast, unrelenting beat, it’s stroking, so slow with each circle your hips make. His finger is still on your clit, so much slower than usual. In rhythm with your movements like he’s just going off of whatever makes you feel good.

“Kriff, Din, baby…your cock feels so good, I’ve never…it’s never been…”

“Feels good to me, too, baby,” he promises you.

When you open your eyes, he’s gazing up at you with such adoration, such universe-shattering perspective, that you could swear you see Galaxies in his eyes. Galaxies that you have yet to find, that you want to dive into and never leave.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning down so that your damp hair falls around his face, frames him like the piece of art that he is.

His hand comes off of your hip and reaches out, stroking back a strand of hair. He rubs your cheek. His mouth is open and his breath is hot against your lips. “I love you,” he says back. His voice is raspy, low, so fucking perfect. “You look so good like this. Just using me to make yourself feel good. I’m so deep inside you, Cyar’ika, feels so good…just want to stay like this forever…”

You nod, desperate, and lean in to kiss him messily. “So deep,” you breathe into his mouth, “so fucking deep inside me, kriff, filling me up so good, Din, you just fit…”

His hand finds the back of your neck and holds you to him. The new angle brings the pleasure inside you to a new level; you’re leaning forward and down over him, and his cock is heavy, almost pulling at your walls as you continue to grind around and around and up and down. He’s pressing his thumb to your clit, his fingers closed around the flesh near your hip, holding tight. Holy kriff, it feels so fucking good, all hot and beautiful and just pleasurepleasurepleasure—

“Din,” you gasp, “gonna come…”

“Come for me, Mesh’la, please, I need it…need to feel you come around me like this, so good…”

Bracing yourself on his chest, you keep yourself at that lower angle and chase your pleasure, feeling it coiling low in your belly first but soon exploding through your entire body. It’s a flame, a roaring fire, a wave of lava through your veins.

“Ride it out, baby,” Din tells you, and you do, you ride him until the drop comes and you’re just chasing it, chasing that high, wanting it to last forever. Wanting to be here forever, in this moment, just the two of you. Beneath the moon. Din inside you, as deep as he’s ever been. So fucking good it’s like you’ve never felt it before.

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you pant as you come down, your aftershocks pulsing around his cock. You can’t even say that you came hard. Because it was the furthest thing to violence you’ve ever felt; it was soft but sudden and beautiful but terrifying. “Din, kriff, I love—I love you—”

His hips are starting to stutter. Like they want to thrust, but he’s holding himself back.

You plant your elbows on either side of his head and lean down to kiss him. “Come in me,” you tell him, “please. Use me, fuck me. You made me feel so good, want you to feel the same too.”

He strokes your cheek with his thumb. “You sure? You’re not too sensitive?”

You shake your head. “Feels so good still. Please, wanna feel you, baby.”

He nods, and starts to move. He shifts so his feet are planted firmly on the ground behind you, knees bent a little and pressing into your back. The hand on your clit moves and instead sits behind him on the floor so he can sit up and use it to prop himself there. Your body follows him, leaning back as he leans up. His breath is so hot on your face, your hair falling against his damp cheeks.

You push it away, kiss his mouth. “Fuck me, baby,” you tell him, “feels so good.”

Using his hand and both feet for leverage, he starts to thrust. Slow at first, testing the waters. His face falls in ecstasy, a broken moan leaving his lips and falling onto yours. You hold his face in both your hands, anchor him to you.

“That’s it,” you praise, “fuck me just how you want. Come for me, Din, I wanna feel you. You’re so perfect, I love you…” it feels like it’s going to be hard to ever stop saying that.

“I love you, Mesh’la,” he says, and it’s the last coherent thing he manages before he starts to thrust harder into you, finding a good rhythm. It’s not as rough as it’s been before—it would be pretty hard, in this position and out here on the wet grass—but it’s just perfect. He still hits the highest point inside of you, even guides your hips to do the circle thing again, like he knows that’s what feels good for you.

It does. Kriff, it’s just as good as it was before. The aftershocks are already turning into new desire, heat bubbling low again. You bring one of your hands from his face and press on your clit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s so good.

It takes you by surprise. You gasp, pulling your head back and tipping it, granting him access to your neck; access that he makes full use of, immediately leaning in and attaching his mouth to your skin.

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you almost laugh at the feeling because it’s so unbelievably good and you’re probably going to come again and it’s so soon after the last one and you weren’t expecting it—“Fuck! Din! Baby, feels so fucking good like this…” your tits bounce against his chest, almost pressed completely into him.

He’s mouthing at your neck and his thrusts are getting faster, more urgent. “Baby…I think I’m going to…”

“Come for me,” you request to the stars. “Please, Din, come inside my pussy.”

That does it for him.

He spills inside you, his chest heaving with desperate whimpers and moans and breaths that sound like something from a different realm, panted into your neck and against your shoulder—

Then you’re coming, too, clenching around him so hard that it almost hurts. Your thighs are burning from holding yourself up, the pleasure coursing through you only adding to the strain in your muscles. But it feels so fucking good. He feels so good, chasing his orgasm for as long as he can, fucking up into you as if it’s what he was put in this Galaxy to do.

“Oh, baby…” Din says as he starts to come down. He’s kissing your neck again, all wet and messy and lazy. His hands slide up your body. Caress you like you’re something precious, a map he wishes to memorise. Eventually they settle on your back, his palms pressing into your shoulder blades.

You realise, then, that this is the first time he’s seen you while you’ve done this. Seen all of you. Nothing separating his eyes from your scars, your stretch marks, every insecurity you’ve ever had.

It feels earth-shattering and unimportant at the same time. Because it’s a big step, it’s huge, something you never thought you’d have with anyone, ever. But it’s also…right. Din isn’t looking at you or holding you any differently. He sees more of you than just that, and it doesn’t matter.

You’re breathless at the realisation. Even more so, when you realise that it actually feels really fucking good to be naked with him like this. To have nothing separating you.

Your lips meet after a moment. He kisses you so softly, so tenderly. Your hands tangle in his hair, feeling the lingering wet from the waterfall. You think about saying something, about telling him how good that was, about how much you love having him like this; you think about saying I love you one more time, just for good measure.

But the words won’t come. Instead, you just press your forehead to his, let your breaths mingle in the humid air between you. You’re both still panting. His cock is twitching inside you, probably a little overstimulated as your walls continue to pulse and beckon him further in. But he never pulls out too soon. Even if it’s too much for him.

He holds you like that, staying inside you beneath the moons, the sound of rushing water and wildlife all around you. He holds you like he knows. Like he knows how you feel, and wants you to know that he feels the same, too.

If you could, you’d stay like this forever. And yet, even a moment will do.

notes: ahhhh i'm so sorry for the long wait.

i can't believe we've only got 2 chapters left. the last 2 are some of my favourites so i'm excited for y'all to read them! thank you for being here as always, i know it's been such a long time. please do leave a comment if you can, and reblogs are always appreciated <3 love u <3

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