#i need to draw the rest of the little fishes soon

[emry-stars-art]

Wymack be careful your luscious flowing hair is dangerous for a single dad like you to have

Find the mer aus masterpost here 💕

[kykyonthemoon]

rafayel and xavier with a reader that gets so stressed out she breaks down sobbing? 🥹

(and zayne if you want)

Soothing

Thank you for requesting!

🌻 Character x F!Reader

Masterlist

Part 2 - Comforting (for Sylus & Caleb)

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

When you entered the studio, Rafayel was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed.

“You're back already? How was the meeting with your old friends?"

He got to his feet just in time to witness the pearl-like tears that were cascading from your eyes. You quickly wiped it away, but Rafayel immediately came to your side and held your wrist.

"What's wrong? Did someone bully you?”

You hiccuped loudly. Rafayel wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his arms. "Tell me. Who dares to make my bodyguard cry?

You leaned against Rafayel, a cheek pressed against his chest. His heart rate shot through the roof, then steadily stabilized. The sound of his heart pounding was what you loved listening to, as it soothed you.

Waiting for your sobbing to pass, then you added:

“Sometimes being around other people is so tiring.”

Rafayel took a small step back. His hands circled your neck and raised your chin just enough to make you meet his gaze.

“Are… Are you sick of me? You're about to leave me again, is that true?"

You had to giggle at the pathetic and sulky look on his face. Rafayel was drawn closer by your arms encircling his hips, and you said:

"No. I'm talking about my group of friends. As for you, Rafayel, you are not even human.”

“That's right.” Rafayel exclaimed as his face brightened. “Then you don't have to be sad. If you no longer have friends on land, you still have fish in the aquarium, and in the sea. Fishies are waaaayyyy better than humans. Especially a particular fish that knows how to draw, sing and make you laugh.”

This time you laughed out loud, cracking in the room filled with Rafayel's artwork. He was right; you always had him and the ocean for company. You did not have to try to please everyone, but just the people who were most important to you.

“Thank you, Rafayel.” With a little tiptoe, you kissed his cheek, causing his face to flush.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

As soon as you left the practice area, you caught a glimpse of Xavier waiting outside. You did your best to conceal the tears that were ready to fall, but they were still visible to him.

“What's the matter?”

"Nothing." With a forced smile, you replied. Of course, Xavier did not believe that.

“Are your test results not good?”

He had got you, so you just stared down at the ground. You were trying my best to stay calm, but all you wanted to do was cry out loud in his arms.

Seeming to know that, Xavier pulled you close. His hand gently stroked your hair, pausing now and again to pat your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“I… I've been practicing for months… And yet… I still couldn't pass that test…”

"It's not that bad. There haven't been many Hunters who had successfully completed that test. No need to be so harsh with yourself. You did very well, and you are always the best Hunter.”

Feeling Xavier's arms tighten, you sobbed again. It wasn't enough to simply aspire to the top; you also wanted to succeed in every test and every challenge. Given Xavier's level of expertise as a Hunter, you wanted to show that you were strong enough to accompany him and shield him without letting him worry about you everywhere, all the time.

Xavier waited for you to finish crying before gently suggesting:

“You know, getting plushies from claw machines is also a way to practice skills.”

“You just said that to cheer me up.”

However, when you thought about the cute plushies waiting to be taken home, you suddenly felt calmer. Why not, when the most adorable plushie in the world was standing in front of you, eyes wide open as if he was pleading with you to accompany him to the arcade?

“Are you sure you want to miss the special edition plushies this week?”

Xavier asked. You replied with a shake of your head.

"Of course you won't. Let's go then. The greatest Hunter in Linkon cannot be outplayed by any claw machine."

With a smile on your face, you held his hand. You might have failed this test, but you already won Xavier's heart.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You did not say anything to Zayne the whole way home. Yet Zayne remained silent, concentrating on driving without even asking you a single question, even though he knew just by looking at your face, you had had a very bad day.

The intense work made you exhausted. You had been under constant stress for around two weeks straight. The number of Wanderers appearing more and more seriously caused you to take on extra shifts, but that was nothing compared to the paperwork you had to report, or the secret meetings that lasted for hours.

Somewhere in your crazy schedule, you still hoped to receive a call, a text message from Zayne. But when you saw nothing on the phone screen, your heart sank even though you knew Zayne's work was very busy these days.

In any case, you were grateful that he took you home and agreed to cook dinner for you today. You decided not to let your stress bother him. But as soon as he put the bag of food on the kitchen counter, Zayne pulled you back and gave you a strong embrace from behind.

“Z-Zayne?” You were startled and couldn't move because he held you so tightly.

“Now, can you tell me what’s on your mind?”

His whispering voice and his warm breath made one of your ears turn red. You were confused:

“You noticed?...”

There was a sigh coming from behind you. Zayne let go of you, then turned you around to face him.

“I didn't ask, because I expected you to tell me everything only when you wanted first.”

The number of patients visiting Akso Hospital has also increased dramatically in recent days. Regular overtime work was required of Zayne. Yet he still maintained a calm attitude in all situations. Every day and every hour, he always tried to be better, to save more people. You should do the same and become stronger.

You sat up straight to look into his eyes. A smile flashed across Zayne's lips. He lifted your chin and wiped your face with a tissue.

"Do not be sad. A smile is much better on your face."

[makoodles]

Soooo I dunno if ur up for it but can we get a continuation of the baby fever thing where tsu'tey and s/o adopt spider but now it's in the future kinda like pre avatar 2 where spider is a teenager. Nothing angsty I just wanna read how Tsu'tey teaches spider things and spider calls him dad and spider finally getting that family love (I would literally die for this little boy I- *explodes*)

this is called having no self control btw! this was meant to be a 500 word drabble lol, but since you all love dad!tsu'tey so much, here we go!

continuation of baby fever

part one

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none!

tags: fluff, dad!tsu'tey, adopted spider, pregnancy mention

"Dad, you're drawing them on crooked!" Spider complains, leaning away from his hands.

Tsu'tey frowns, looking down at his work. "They are not crooked."

"They are! Look!"

The stripes that Tsu'tey has painted onto Spider's fragile human skin upon his insistence do not looked crooked to Tsu'tey's eye, but he squints closer at them anyway.

"They look fine to me, maitan." He says with a sigh, dipping his fingers back into the paint dye and finishing up on the last stripe he had been working on. "Look at my stripes - they are not perfectly even."

Spider grumbles, but goes quiet as he darts a look at Tsu'tey's stripes. Seeing proof that Tsu'tey's stripes are not perfectly symmetrical seems to be enough to soothe him, at least for the moment.

When the kelku entrance rustles, Tsu'tey does not need to turn around to know that it's you. He knows you by the sound of your footsteps and the way your hands coast so softly over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"Hello, boys," You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to Tsu'tey's cheek. His ears twitch happily, and you move back to avoid getting hit with one, "Oh, Spider. The stripes again? That stuff is so hard to wash off-"

"That's the point, ma." He says, craning his head around to look at you. "I want it to last. I'm faster when I've got the stripes."

"Finished." Tsu'tey murmurs, clasping his son's shoulder before pushing himself to his feet.

Spider stands too, and Tsu'tey looks down at him thoughtfully. The stripes are a little jagged, though there's no way that Tsu'tey will ever admit that. More than anything, his attention catches on how grown Spider has become. He is still small, only reaching Tsu'tey's navel, but he has grown taller than you. His shoulders have broadened, growing thick with muscle from his long days running and playing with Na'vi children. It has always been more difficult for him to keep up, but the result of his tenacity is the impressively defined musculature at such a young age.

"We are going fishing, yawntutsyìp." Tsu'tey says to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "We will be back soon."

"I'll catch you a big one, ma." Spider adds, pushing masked face into your neck in a hug before bouncing away.

"Did you see!" Spider is still enthusing about his catch the whole walk back to the village.

"I saw." Tsu'tey confirms. The woven basket with their catch is slung over his shoulder, and a content sort of smirk is playing around his mouth as he watches Spider bounce over the tree roots.

"It was huge, and I nearly missed it but then I managed to hit it right as it darted out from behind those big rocks-"

"It was very impressive." Tsu'tey intones, reaching out to ruffle at Spider's hair.

Spider is still grinning, flying high on the success of his mini hunt. "I told you that the stripes made me faster!"

Tsu'tey lets out a rumbly sort of laugh, letting his hand drop from the top of Spider's head to the back of his neck and letting it rest there. His son is growing older, becoming a man, and yet he is still so small under Tsu'tey's hands. He feels a flare of vicious protectiveness deep in his chest, but that's nothing new.

"It was a very good catch, maitan." He murmurs, squeezing lightly at Spider's shoulders.

Spider looks down at his feet as he skips over another exposed tree root. "Do you think I'll be a good hunter?"

Tsu'tey tilts his head, and catches at Spider's bicep as he slips on moss. Once he is sure that he's stable on his feet, he releases his arm and pats him on the back.

"Yes. You have a good teacher." He bares his teeth at Spider in a grin, and gets a little smile in return. "But even if your talents do not lie in hunting, that will be okay. No matter what your skills are, I will be proud of you, my boy."

Spider's cheeks redden, but he smiles back all the same. The corners of his eyes crinkle just like yours do, and Tsu'tey's heart swells at the similarity between the two of you. His precious little family.

When they enter the village, you're waiting by one of the cookfires. You're fiddling with a couple of beads, and Tsu'tey recognises that you're weaving together a hair decoration.

"Yawntu," Tsu'tey calls as he approaches with Spider at his hip. "Look at what our son caught."

Spider takes the basket from him and bounds forward, grinning wide behind his mask as he proffers it at you. You make a big show of oohing and ahhing as you look into the basket, looking very impressed indeed.

"What big fish," You say. "These could feed the whole village for days!"

It had taken Tsu'tey quite some time to learn how to read the body language of Sky People, but even he can see how pleased Spider is. If he had a tail, it would be swishing wildly.

"I'm gonna go show Lo'ak." Spider says with a grin. "He couldn't catch anything yesterday! Jake isn't as good a teacher, I guess."

"Spider." You scold, giving him a look.

"Go, show Lo'ak." Tsu'tey encourages. "Make sure that Jakesully sees too. Show him that my son is a fine hunter."

"Tsu'tey!" You chide, delivering a smack to his thigh.

Spider just laughs, before taking the woven basket and running with it deeper into the village towards the Sully's kelku. Tsu'tey watches him go, before turning to you with a smug little grin.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp," He murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead into yours. "He did well. He is growing skilled."

You cup the back of his head with one hand, scratch at his head with your little fingers. He lets his eyes slide shut lazily as he enjoys the feeling of your warm body so close to his after a hunt. He drops his head further into the cradle between your shoulder and neck and nuzzles there.

"I do not like him hanging around with Jakesully's children," He murmurs, his voice muffled in your throat. "There are many other children in the village."

"Oh stop," You mumble, your fingers massaging at his scalp, "They’re good kids."

"Neteyam is like Neytiri. Sensible." He grunts into your skin. "But Lo’ak is like Jakesully. He will get Spider into trouble."

"Oh, Tsu'tey." You sigh in that way you usually do when you think he's being dense. "They're both good kids. Besides, he's not really going to show Lo'ak anyway. He's going to show Kiri."

His brow furrows. "Kiri? She has no interest in fishing."

You sigh again, although this time you seem a little more amused. "I seem to remember you showing off your fishing skills to me when we were younger, hm?"

"That was different," He says dismissively. "I was courting you. That was my way of expressing interest, of showing you that I am strong."

"Mhm." You say, as though you're waiting for something.

Slowly, Tsu'tey raises his head from where it's buried in your shoulder and squints at you. He's not sure if he's following what you're suggesting.

"You do not think this is the same?" He asks, frowning. "Spider is- he is too young. He cannot be thinking of mating yet-"

"Oh, he isn't." You interrupt with a quick shake of your head. "It's a little crush, love. It's sweet."

But Tsu'tey is frowning, his mind overactive. "Does she- how does Kiri feel? If she does not share his feelings, he will be so disappointed-"

"He isn't going to be proposing anytime soon, relax."

"He needs someone who will value him-"

"Tsu'tey."

He falls quiet, looking into your eyes with a thoughtful little frown. You're looking right back at him, mouth quirked.

"He's a teenager with a crush. Let him be." You murmur, stroking a thumb over one of his pointed ears and making him shiver.

Tsu'tey just grumbles. "He has not told me about a crush."

"Well, I'm sure he will," You say simply. "He's a teenage boy. He's going to be shy about it."

Tsu'tey huffs, and looks down at his hands with a scowl. The thought of his small human boy developing feelings for someone who may not return them makes him feel shifty and aggravated – how is he supposed to protect him from such a thing? It will hurt him so much, and there is nothing that Tsu'tey can do to stop it.

"Stop overthinking." You mutter, nudging against his bicep with your shoulder as you finish tying the hair decoration together. "For all you know, Kiri likes him too and is just shy about it."

Tsu'tey grunts. The thought of Spider, such a small and weak little thing, having his feelings at the mercy of Jakesully's daughter makes him feel a little as though he's losing his mind.

"Hey."

When you nudge him again, he turns to you fully. The beaded hair decoration in your hands is finished, all red beads and golden yellow feathers. You hold it up, eyes bright.

"I made this for you." You say, holding it out for him.

Tsu'tey's stern expression softens, and he ducks his head closer to you. "For me? Will you put it on, yawntu?"

Your sweet little face is so bright as you shuffle forward and reach up for his face. Tsu'tey watches you carefully, reaching out to lay his hands against your waist as you wind the beaded decoration around a small section of braids just behind his ear.

"So handsome." You coo at him when it's tucked neatly behind his ear.

Tsu'tey smiles, satisfied. "Thank you."

You sit back and then nestle into him. He opens his arms and accepts you into his side easily, resting his chin over the top of your head contently.

"Our son will be a good hunter." He says, pressing a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. "And a good brother."

His hand lands on the curve of your belly, his thumb smoothing over the swell of it beneath your woven top. You lean into his touch, sighing happily as his other hand massages at the base of your spine.

"I know," You say simply, making a soft noise when he leans down to cup below your belly with his hands, lifting some of the weight up. "You've taught him well."

Pride swells in his chest, and he purrs softly as he presses his face into your neck again. You smell so sweet and comforting, and he inhales contently against your skin.

His small son has grown so strong, and his little mate fits so perfectly into his arms, no matter how large your belly has swollen. His family is so small and weak; he holds you close as his chest rumbles, pleased that he's large and strong enough to protect you all.

[iliketangerines]

age gap

a/n: hmmmmm...i need more ronal in my life @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare

pairing: ronal x gn!metkayina!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussyeating, slight dom/sub dynamic, milf ronal bc i said so

you stare at Ronal across the beach, turning your head away quickly when she lifts her head up and turns her head in your direction

she was beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, much older than you, mated to Tonowari and a mother to Ao’nung and Tsireya

you had seen firsthand how she and Tonowari doted on their children, making sure that Ao’nung made it to his lessons on time and that little Tsireya, no higher than your hip, made it to her playdates

and then, you saw how they looked at each other, speaking with no more than a glance, and yet they moved in perfect synchronization

not to mention, you were ages younger than them, your parents had been friends with them when they were kids, and you had only just entered adulthood a few months ago

you stood no chance with the tsahik or with the olo’eyktan of the Metkayina, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t admire her from a distance

drawing your net back, you throw it out into the sea and let it sink to the floor before pulling it back up to see if you’ve caught any fish

luckily enough, you find a few and pluck out the rocks and fish that were inedible and throw them back into the sea before turning around to put the remaining fish into your basket

you nearly fall backwards when you see Ronal standing there, only a little taller than you, and she’s holding a shallow basket full of herbs for her medicine

quickly, you greet her and bow your head, and she squints her eyes at you and asks what you were doing staring at her

her words send a chill down your spine, and you pin your ears back, tail twitching in nervousness, as you let out a strained laugh

no excuse comes to mind, and you flounder like a fish out of the water as you try and find an excuse, growing warmer and warmer as she stands there staring at you

with no reason, you turn around and dive into the water, swimming away from her, and you swim until you reach the other side of the island to your hiding place

it’s just a small cove away from the rest of the tribe, but it was quiet and it was yours

you lift yourself up onto the mossy surface and groan, burying your face in your hands at what you had just done

you just swam away, from the tsahik, your crush, after she had asked you a question and you had failed to answer

this was the most embarrassing moment in your life, but unfortunately, you can’t hide away forever in this cove

you’d have to go back eventually to bring the fish over to the cooks and then help cook before having dinner with your family

for now though, you could take a few moments in the chilled cave to avoid her and then make up an excuse in case she does try and confront you

the sun has started to set when you arrive back at the island, and your basket full of fish is still where you had left it thankfully enough

taking a whiff of the fish, it seems like they haven’t gone bad quite yet, and you pick up the basket into your arms and hurry back to the campfires

you hand over your catch to the cooks and take your basket back to your marui pod, greeting your family quickly before heading back to the fires to help roast the fish

you turn them on the spit, making sure none of them burnt or were undercooked, and you sprinkle spices about the food and cut and clean and gut

the time flies by quick enough and soon enough, it’s time to eat, and you help yourself to a nice serving and walk back to the place your family usually sits

as you take a bite from the fish, you nearly fall over over your own feet when you see Ronal talking to your family, and then you want to run away when your sa’nok points to you and the tsahik turns around

Ronal bows her head to your sa’nok and walks to you, blinking at you and telling you to walk with her, and you cast a nervous glance to your family before hurriedly following after the tsahik

she walks at a slow pace into the forest, never speaking a word, and you don’t dare to speak first, keeping your gaze facing downward and focusing on the sand that turns to grass and dirt

soon, the both of you reach a tree, and she asks you to climb up the branches and grab a fruit for her, handing you a small woven bag to store the fruits

you nod and climb up the tree, picking the fruit from the highest branches and softly placing them into your bag before heading back down

Ronal has sat down on a nearby rock, watching as you climb down and hand her the bag, and she gestures for you to sit down next to her while pulling out one of the fruits

she peels it, revealing its sweet flesh and hands it to you, and you take it, slightly sniffing it first, inhaling in the scent of something sweet

you bite into it, letting the juices run down your fingers and your chin, and you hum at the taste, looking back up at Ronal who watches with a serious face, eyes focused on you entirely

nervously taking another bite of the fruit, you finish off the rest of it and lick the juices off your fingers, and Ronal finally talks, asking if you knew why she brought you here

you look off to the side and and spit out the excuse you had made up earlier on why you had to leave so suddenly, and Ronal sighs and says she didn’t bring you out here for that reason

feeling a nervous tendril grip onto your stomach, you stay silent and wait for her to explain, and she leans forward towards you, tilting your chin up to properly look into her eyes

her eyes scan your face, and she pulls back and says that she and Tonowari know that you like her and him

you sputter and try to stand up, short circuiting when she grabs onto the back of your neck to make you sit back down, and she hisses at you to listen

Ronal hums as you listen to her order, and she lets go of your neck and says that she and Tonowari have also had an eye on you: hardworking, intelligent, loyal, obedient

you warm at the final word, feeling a heat pool in the bottom of your gut, and you squeeze your thighs together and continue to listen to her

she tilts your chin up and says that if you would like, she and Tonowari would like to have you as their own, but unfortunately, Tonowari had too many duties to tend to tonight so it was just her

your mouth hangs open as you stare at her, and she quirks her brow up as she awaits your answer

finally, you nod your head, and she tells you to use your words, making you answer in a wobbly voice that you want to be a part of their family

she smiles at you, leaning in closer until she finally presses her lips to yours, and you whimper at the contact, putting a hand on her shoulder instinctively

Ronal smiles against your lips as she kisses you, and you try to copy her movements, eyelashes fluttering close as you lose yourself in her touch

her hand come up to grab onto your waist, and you jump at the feeling as her hands slightly squeeze at the flesh

you lean back further and further until you're laying flat on your back, and she moves one of her arms to rest her forearm on the rock to keep kissing you

finally, Ronal pulls away to look at you, and you’re too dazed to think, mind still spinning from the fact that Ronal and Tonowari liked you enough to be apart of their family

you’re jolted from your thoughts when she slips her thumb past your parted lips, and you instinctively place your tongue flat on the pad of the finger and suck gently

she purrs at you, saying that you were already so good, and you whine at her words, one hand coming up to hold onto her wrist as you suck on her thumb

you stay in this position for quite a while, but you don’t mind, letting a sort of haze fill your head as she watches you with a careful eye

pulling her thumb from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips to her thumb, she hums at the sight and settles back on her perch, spreading her legs wide and telling you to show her what you could do

there’s no hesitation as you get up off the rock and fall to your knees onto the soft grassy ground, nuzzling at the inside of her thigh with your cheek

you bring your fingers up to undo the knots of her tewng, and you lick your lips at the sight of her glistening folds before looking back up at her

your voice is quiet and meek as you say that you’ve never done this before, and Ronal laughs and says that she knows and that she’ll guide you

she adds a comment on flippantly that Tonowari will be able to show you personally how he does it, and you nod dumbly at her

nervousness curdles in your stomach as you lean in a bit closer, still anxious about the whole situation and your skills

you’re young and inexperienced, never having been too adventurous like your friends and going off to have a quick rendezvous with each other

of course, you’ve touched yourself, but this was a different person, someone older and clearly much more experienced than you

you look up at her with wide eyes, and she tells you to go one, she’ll help lead you through the experience

her hand nestles itself into your curly hair, and she brings your face closer to her and tells you to pleasure her and to see what she’s working with

you nod and brings your mouth closer, wrapping your lips around her clit and slowly sucking on it, and she sighs at the feeling, pulling your head closer into her

taking it as a good sign, you suckle on her clit, using your tongue to occasionally move it back and forth, and she lets out a breathy moan, telling you to keep doing that

you oblige happily, using your tongue to flick her clit back and forth, and you moan into her as you bring your own fingers down to pleasure yourself

grinding on your own fingers, you nearly lose focus on the task before you when Ronal tugs at your hair and tells you to focus, and you whine and nod, going back to her

your tongue presses flat against the sensitive nub, lapping at it desperately, and she groans at the feeling, encouraging you to keep going

you pant into her pussy as you close your eyes and let her guide your head and grind her hips into her face

her moans are sweet and low, almost raspy as she pulls your head further and further into her pussy

it’s making your head spin with pleasure as you listen to her moans and her praise at how well you’re doing, and you whine as she moans loudly, cumming on your face

her cum drips down your chin, and you move your mouth down to taste her and bury yourself in further

it’s sweet, delicious, tastes just like her, and you lap at her juices, needy for more when she pulls your head away from her pussy

whining that you want more, she smiles at you and tells you to look back, and you slowly turn around and find Tonowari standing there

he says in a low voice that he found someone to take care of the kids for the night and that he was here now to take care of the both of you

dropping to his knees, Ronal lifts you into her arms in a show of strength you didn’t know she had and spreads your thighs over her own, and you realize that tonight through the haze in your head that you would be here at least until the moon rose high into the sky

[arjudy224]

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

Gotham harbor buzzes with energy this morning. Fishermen compete for the best catch. Dozens of workers prep the yachts for their bosses rich escapades. Even the seagulls are hard at work today, eagerly searching the docks for their next meal. A perfect image of regular people living their lives. Unfortunately if we've been called, then something must be going horribly wrong. Judging from the crowd of distressed fishermen forming towards the end of the boardwalk, my gut feeling was right.

As I draw near the distressed crowd, a familiar voice rises above the rest.

"We are sending our best people to look into this. Keep an eye out for a press conference by the end of today." Detective Gordon addresses the crowd.

The crowd erupts in a chorus of anger.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm going to brutalize that clown!"

"God, I hate this city."

Behind the greying Detective stands a very sour looking Dr. Harris. I maneuver my way through the crowd next to him.

"Dr." I greet from behind.

Dr. Harris says nothing while attempting to catch a slippery fish.

"How adept are you at evolutionary biology?" He eventually asks through the sweat beating down his face.

"I dabble..." I respond growing closer to peer over his shoulder.

Dr. Harris grabs a fish with his bare hands. Before I can move the wiggling vertebrate leaps from his hands directly at my face.

"Catch it!" Dr. Harris hisses.

The flying tang leaves a wet trail across my cheek before dropping into my hands. The poor fish fights with everything it has to get away. Against all odds, I manage to wrangle the wiggle worm into a somewhat sturdy position in my palms.

Once the fish slows a bit, I notice something. The fish is smiling. A big yellow toothy smile with a red outline that one could mistake for lips. The external scales have turned a peculiar, yet familiar shade of pearly white. Both the pelvic fin and the pectoral fin have developed into a contrasting shade of dark green.

If I didn't know any better, I would say it looked like-

"Joker..." A voice growls interrupting my thoughts.

Turning to face our new arrival, I almost laugh at what I see. Batman's suit looks a little goofy in the morning light. Maybe even a little warm in the humid air. The cowl has a slight shine to it. Dr. Harris immediately begins explaining our situation to the Caped Crusader.

"This batch came in last night. We don't know how or why. The working hypothesis is that this may be a side effect of the Jokers latest toxin."

"Is it deadly?" Batman questions eyeing the gasping fish in my hands.

"Not to the fish. We should get the test results back by noon if we start soon."

Batman nods.

"Let me know what you find out."

I take pity on the fish and throw it back with the rest. Most of my life I've struggled with asthma: I know the feeling.

"What would he have to gain from this?" I wonder aloud.

Turning to the Dark Knight, I am stunned to realize there is nobody there. Batman disappeared. Doing a 360, I notice a dark figure hiding in the shadows on the nearest boat.

Huh.. Maybe the dark suit doesn't look so dumb in the daylight after all.

Dr. Harris smiles at me for the first time. My heart pounds. This can't be good.

"Didn't you say that you liked smoothies?"

I do like smoothies, but why does this feel like a test? I nod slowly.

"I hope you didn't eat anything too heavy this morning. We'll need to prep quite a bit of samples."

I narrow my eyes. Samples are typically liquid. How would we make fish.... Oh my God... This cannot be happening.

"Don't we need to test the water for excess nutrients? We don't want an algae bloom to form from the toxin."

There's a glint that forms underneath his unnecessarily large glasses.

"All in good time dear. We can worry about that after lunch."

Hoisting the barrel of Joker fish into the bed of his pick up truck, Dr. Harris teases down at me.

"After we prep those samples, how about fish and chips? I'm having a craving."

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 19

MASTAPOST

Danny woke from his little cat nap soon after, stretching his tail out like a lounging snake. Damian sat next to him, characteristically unimpressed as the teenager cracked his knuckles and shook off the remaining grogginess.

“Are you done?” Damian asked.

Danny yawned again. “Yeah what time is it?”

“It has been about two hours. We are wasting time.”

Damian swam to Danny’s left side and nudged him with his head. Danny bonelessly flopped to the side without moving. “Dude, what’s the rush? I thought you liked animals.”

“The whales have been amenable company, but my father needs me back as soon as possible. In addition, we have entered a coral reef.”

Danny blinked, and got up. The boy leaned his head over the edge of the mother whale. Seemed Damian was right. The waterscape in front of them was filled with tall kelp forests in the distance. Below the, the sea floor housed miles of vibrant coral in all sorts of colours. Red, purple, yellow and green coral spiraled and twisted and grew from the rocks and sand, living alongside schools of big and small fish. Clownfish peeked in an out of anemones. Little critters like shrimps and lobsters crawled in and out of crevices, sheltered from predators.

Damian apparently thought he was taking too long. Danny belatedly realised his harness was untied, just as Damian rammed into his back and pushed him off the edge.

“We need to replenish our supplies.” Damian said. “Teach me how to gather forage and hunt.”

Well that was a slight issue. Being a modern American teenager with access to such things as fridges and a global supply chain meant that he was perhaps less suited to roughing it than the younger boy might have assumed. It was not like he never had to live off the land, but the less said about long swim home after Vlad happened, the better.

“Well?” Damian repeated, arms crossed, looking down Danny expectantly.

“Alright then. I’ll teach you silly human what it’s like to live off the land, like your ancestors long before you.” He said sagely.

The whale pod crooned a deep farewell as the continued on their journey. He and Damian waved them off, before returning to their own needs.

He led his young charge to perch atop a cliff overlooking the reef. The boys laid their fins flat so as to avoid drawing attention. Danny scanned the landscape, settling his eyes on a lobster hiding underneath a rock. Despite their reputation these days, lobsters did not look nearly as appetising raw and alive. From the bottom, they looked more like cockroaches than delicacies. Plus, they were literally the worst possible travelling food ever. No.

Instead, Danny caught sight of his real prize. Mussels!

“You good with shellfish?” He asked the younger boy. Damian turned up his nose, looking haughty like Sam’s parents were it not for the adorable pout he’d put on too.

“If the only other option is starvation.”

“We’ll keep an eye for more plants on the way.” Danny said, preparing to descend.

The thing about mussels was that you didn’t need to kill them to bring them along. They came with their own natural packaging, even if it was a bit heavy. Danny stuffed his pockets with a couple handfuls of the shellfish, leaving space for a more varied diet, and leaving the rest to stay and reproduce. He wasn’t greedy! Sam had taught him about these things. Mussels were very important to the environment. Evidently Damian was aware too. The boy nodded in approval as Danny continued his search.

Damian’s sword came in useful as well (he would’ve taken it away if he wasn’t sure that the kid would slash him for it) for harvesting kelp and seaweed. The pair snacked on kelp strips as Danny took them to their next prey.

However, Damian protested. “I do not wish to kill this one.”

The huge trout, easily as big as Damian, floated blissfully ignorant of the two predators eyeing it like hawks. Danny ‘s head spun as he tried to keep track of Damian’s seemingly endlessly shifting opinion towards eating fish or not. “That thing could feed us for like 300 miles.”

“The largest fish also reproduce the most. This one is a female.” Damian continued. Now that he thought of it, didn’t Sam make a whole protest about this in the beginning of summer? “Many oceans are in danger due to overfishing from humans. As a human myself, it is my responsibility to fish sustainably.”

The boy’s fins puffed with pride and conservationist fervor, a quiet determination that reminded him of Sam. Danny had some doubts. “If we eat the small fry, there won’t be many left to grow big and ‘reproduce’ as you say.”

This point seemed to put pause on Damian’s previous showboating. The boy gritted his teeth, looking for a comeback. “What about invasive species? Those that threaten the natural balance.”

Danny shrugged. That was a good point, except Danny didn’t know how to identify any of those.

“But you live in the ocean!” Damian protested when this point was brought up.

“Yeah. You live on land. Does that mean you know about every species that lives on Gotham?”

“Yes.” Well he kinda walked into that one, didn’t he?

“Well if you know so much about invasive species, why don’t you look for them?” Danny challenged. Animal hyperfixation or not, surely this kid couldn’t identify the hundreds of species that lived in this reef.

Damian’s ear fins tensed, something he’d noticed in himself whenever he was concentrating on something. The boy turned away from Danny and to the reef in front of them. Suddenly, the boy’s body slumped.

A smug grin split open Danny’s face.

Damian groaned, as if his next words were like Soviet torture. “There are no saltwater invasive fish near California, to my knowledge.”

“Hah! Suck on that, fishboy!”

Damian mewled angrily. His hand drifted down to the hilt of his sword. On dear.

“Alright, alright, alright. What about a compromise?” Danny waved his arms defensively.

“Speak.”

“We grab the fish that we were gonna grab before you interrupted.” Damian hissed at that. “BUUttt only one. And we fill our pockets with small fry. A balanced fishing diet. What do you say?”

The grumpy child pouted one more time for good measure, before sinking back to the floor. “Fine. You still need to teach me how to make a kill.”

“You sure you won’t get attached?”

“I can suppress my emotions to complete the mission.” It spoke something about Damian that Danny wasn’t even that phased this time. That being said please let that just be a boast with nothing to back that up.

Danny lay prone, fins flat, head down, like a tiger about to pounce. In the entire conversation they’d had, the trout had drifted about five inches from its previous position. Survival instincts this poor girl had not.

“All you need to do is shut your gills, like holding a breath. Just get closer… and closer… and POUNCE!”

Danny leapt at the trout, using his powers to accelerate into a blur. His hands pinned it down in an instant, the trout thrashing and slapping him, trying to escape. With a swift motion, Danny bit clean through its gills. The trout rapidly lost strength, slowly fading until it went still.

He held the trout up like a trophy. “Tada!”

Damian frowned deeply. “That was an unclean kill. It suffered immensely.”

“Ughh!” Danny groaned. “What do you want from me. I’m a siren not an assassin.”

Damian unsheathed his sword, looking about 50% more menacing as any other six-year-old Danny had ever met. “It seems I will have to show you, instead.”

Five minutes later, his idea of showing Danny how to kill resulted in a fresh bruise and a bent fin. The carp he had tried to pounce managed to escape with a shallow cut on its side.

“I’m very educated now, Damian. Thank you.” He snickered as Damian roared in anger.

“Shut your mouth! You have an unfair advantage, seeing as you can use your powers, while I am hampered by my body.”

“You’ll grow into them. I think. I dunno I haven’t met a lot of siren kids.”

“I am not a child!” Damian said, pouting very maturely.

The rest of the morning was spent like that, roaming the reef in search of food and bickering over this and that. At one point they debated over dolphins were whales or not (Danny personally thought whales were too nice to encompass dolphins under their umbrella).

Their food supplies replenished and energy still raring to go, the boys sealed their satchels shut, and continued south.

Meanwihle…

Hundreds of miles away in the ocean, Bruce stands at the helm of the Fenton Family SAV, its modified engines going at full throttle.

In a hidden compartment in his room, Tucker Foley slams into the firewall of the Fenton’s new database with everything he has. Schematics, blueprints, notes. He needs that data and he needs it now.

Sam Manson meditates on her bed, surrounded by candles. She recites warding spells, a staple for any young magician.

Skulker sits in his private yacht, bandaging his wounded leg, sliding the pieces for his next upgrade. Behind him, an ornate fish tank sits empty, awaiting its guest.

Agent K and Agent O monitor the news. The sonars around Amity. A report sits on the desk. The Fentons have just left town? That will be interesting… 

[eywa-eveng]

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

[trilobitepunch]

月食 - Gesshoku - Lunar Eclipse - Part I

"San…? Sannan, you still with me?"

Sannan blinked, pulling his thoughts into the present. He'd been drifting again. That buzz in the back of his mind had been growing, refusing to be ignored. It made it harder to think, harder to concentrate. 

He suppressed a grimace, turning his head towards his brother beside him. The space between them had shrunk in these past few hours, and although Jinan did an admirable job at keeping it from showing on his face, Sannan was sure he'd heard a little anxiousness creep into his voice just then.

"I'm here, Jin," he reassured, slowing his steps to match his brother's pace. The other had started out ahead of him, but as the sinking sun began to bathe the world in warmer, rosy hues, Jinan had started to lag behind.

They should have been home by now. They really should have been home a couple of days before, but it had seemed like ever since they'd set out to return from what should have otherwise been a routine mission, they'd been hindered left and right by obstacles. Random encounters with hostile yōkai, a rockslide that had completely taken out the mountain path and forced them to pick their way through the forests. Part of him had suspected that it couldn't all have been by chance, and as the day crept towards night, Sannan felt less and less at ease about the situation.

Tonight, the moon would vanish.

~~~

His nerves seemed to spark with every little stimulus; the snap of a twig underfoot or a branch in passing, an errant leaf brushing past his arm, a bird calling in the distance. Jinan had pulled his hood over his head, walking so closely to his brother that every other step brought him into a near collision. But he was fine with this, because it just confirmed that Sannan was still there with him, and for his part, Sannan didn't complain.

Anxiously peering past the edge of his hood, Jinan eyed the ever darkening skies from what he could see at the fringes of the treeline. They'd been hugging the mountainside ever since their path had been diverted into the woods, looking for the next opportunity to return to higher ground. Jinan suspected that there wasn't any, and the detour was not making their situation any better.

We won't make it, he shivered, pulse quickening at the thought. We won't make it we won't make it, it'll be night soon and we won't be anywhere near home…

He almost jumped when Sannan's hand closed over his wrist. His brother hadn't looked at him, but Jinan was well aware that his brother's senses somehow tended to sharpen even more during times like these. It was…frightening, in a way, but it was also a comfort, because Jinan knew that Sannan would never leave him alone.

Sannan had said less and less as they'd progressed. While that in itself was nothing new, the silence around him was completely different, a silence of expectation, that tense quiet in which one seemed to be waiting for something to happen. He perked at every sound, head cocking at noises even Jinan hadn't perceived, which hadn't helped to soothe his rapidly fraying nerves. Behind him his tail remained in constant motion, a slow, deliberate sway like a fish navigating waters.

"...we'll need to shelter."

It had been long enough that Sannan's voice sounded a little hoarse once he'd spoken up, and Jinan caught a glimpse of his brother's face and the brief flicker of worry with it. The thought of them sheltering out here was unreasonably terrifying to him, and this time when Jinan did step closer to his twin, he didn't try to avoid contact, drawing what comfort he could from it. Under normal circumstances Sannan would shove him away, but here he brought his free arm up and around his brother's shell, hand resting on Jinan's shoulder. The contact had broken whatever spell of distraction had been plaguing him these last couple of miles, Sannan finally looking at Jinan. He wasn't completely gone, not yet. 

"Just one night," he said, and Jin knew that Sannan was trying to convince himself just as much. Not entirely convinced himself, he could only nod back. This was basic survival. They knew how to do this. They just…never had to do so when they were going to inevitably be compromised.

Sannan gave his brother's shoulder a faint squeeze, saying nothing more, but there was something in his expression, attempted reassurance, maybe. Jinan swallowed, reaching a clawed hand up to clasp over his brother's. This was ridiculous. He was the older one, he should be the one who was comforting and protecting, not the other way around. But he'd felt the brief tremble of his brother's hand. How easy it was to forget that he wasn't the only one who was terrified of what was to come. After all, he wasn't the only one who would lose a vital part of himself, and right now, they were all they had for support.

"...do you think tōsan's looking for us..?" Jinan asked quietly as they started to walk again, trying his best to keep an eye out for any promising space that they could use as Sannan did the same.

"Undoubtedly," Sannan replied.

Next >>

[avengersfantasies]

The Captain's Daughter - 3

Summary: You and Bucky start to get comfortable around each other.

What to expect: sass, fluff(?), beginning of some smut ;)

Series masterlist here

Taglist: @frickin-bats @pattiemac1 @justsebstan @winterslove1917 @crist1216 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @kandis-mom  @vonalyn  @mavrellover91  @natashasilverfox  @gojoismysensei @itsafamilyshow  @casa-boiardi @ilovetaquitosmmmm

You awoke a few hours after falling asleep in Bucky’s arms. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in years. For once, you felt safe. It felt like you could close your eyes and be okay. You were careful not to wake him when you crawled out of the small bed – going a few feet away to your bag and taking out your wireless router and laptop. You typed up an email for Steve.

Dad,

Phone was ruined during a storm. Still have my laptop and comms, though. I will make my way into the nearest town when day breaks and use the card to buy a phone. I know you’ve probably been trying to reach me, so I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. Bucky’s been watching out for me. I’ll contact you when I can.

I love you so much, dad.

You sent the email and breathed a sigh of relief. You hated when he worried about you, and he did often. Not knowing where you were, which was something that gave you massive anxiety, you looked up your coordinates and wrote them down. According to your GPS, you were somewhere in central Russia. There was a small town called Bryansk Oblast a few miles away from where you and Bucky were hunkered down. Part of you wanted to venture out and explore the small town, but you knew deep down that doing so would cause some sort of rift between you and the only other person you could tolerate. As if he could hear your inner debate, Bucky’s eyes opened and greeted you sleepily.

            “Morning, darling,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

            “Hey,” you smiled over at him softly. “We should get ready.”

Bucky sat up and stretched. “Ready? For what?”

“We need to go on a supply run,” you told him – fishing through your backpack to find a change of clothes. However, you soon realized your clothes had been soaked and smelled of dirt and sweat. “Seriously?” you groaned, throwing them to the ground.

“What do we need?” Bucky asked, looking in his bag and taking out some canned fruit before passing you one.

“Food,” you began to list as you opened the can, “clothes, a shower, phone.”

Bucky chuckled. “And how do you suggest we get those things?”

You took a card out of your backpack and held it up to him. “No limit, untraceable,” you told him. “My dad had to jump through a lot of hoops to get me this.”

Bucky pointed at the card with his fork. “If you have that, why aren’t you living a life of luxury?”

You chuckled incredulously. “That’d draw HYDRA’s attention in no time,” you answered with your mouth full of fruit. “I’m kinda on the run here.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask…why are you running?”

You sighed and rested your head against the wall you sat against. “I escaped from their little lab,” you told him. “They captured me and my mom, killed her, and I ran.” Your voice was numb – the pain being something you grew used to.

Bucky nodded in understanding. “And why not go to your dad?”

You shook your head and looked down. “Last thing I want is to bring those monsters to him and everyone else,” you confessed. “It’s easier just to run.”

The soldier went quiet momentarily – thinking of what to say next. “He can’t want this kind of life for you.”

“He doesn’t,” you confirmed – giving Bucky a soft smile. “It’s what I’m used to, though…the nomadic lifestyle, I guess you could call it. That’s probably why he tricked us into finding each other.” Bucky hummed and ate another bite of fruit. “Speaking of,” you continued curiously, “why were you in that church?”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re not the only one used to the nomadic life.”

“Even though I’m running…I feel free, ya know? Like I can be anywhere I wanna be.”

“You need somewhere to call your home, though,” Bucky argued gently. “You need to have someplace where you feel safe.”

You nodded and looked around the bunker. “I feel safe here.”

“This place is a shithole,” Bucky chuckled – finishing his can of fruit.

“So, let’s make it not a shithole,” you suggested. “There’s a town called Bryansk Oblast a few miles from here…I’m sure there’s stores or something.”

You both put your empty cans in a plastic bag and put it in the corner of the room. “So what?” Bucky smiled. “Are you saying you want to make this shithole a home with me?”

“Those are your words,” you told him. “I just think that if we’re gonna be here for however long, we could make it a bit cozier.” You grabbed a notebook and pen out of your bag and started to make a list. Bucky, on the other hand, went to look around the bunker – wanting to get an idea of just how small or large it was.

“Holy shit!” he called out – causing you to jump to your feet and run towards him.

“Bucky?” your voice echoed down the hallway. At the end of it, you saw a light turn on and Bucky standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong? Is there someone in here? We cleared it out!”

He didn’t respond, instead, he just walked into the room ahead of him. “There’s a whole fucking kitchen,” he told you.

“What the fuck?” you asked in shock – hurrying to the open room. It had been dark when the two of you cleared the place out, and you were only looking for other people, so neither of you realized that there was a full kitchen. “Holy shit.” You walked over to the wall and tested the stove. “Doesn’t work,” you said in a disappointed tone.

“We can fix it,” Bucky excitedly suggested. “Maybe this can be our little home.”

Growing curiouser by the second, you decided to open the next door. There, you found a bathroom attached to a small bedroom. “Hey, look,” you called out. “There’s a separate bedroom and a bathroom.” You tested the faucet to see if it worked. “That doesn’t work.”

Bucky looked in the rooms. “Well, now you don’t have to share the bed with an old,” he reminded you.

Hearing him say that caused an ache to your heart. Did he want you to sleep separately?

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Looks like I can have my own bed.” You looked down. For once, your mask of not caring was falling, and Bucky saw the real you behind it.

“If that’s what you want, that is,” he added on quietly.

You flashed him a flat smile. “Yeah, of course,” you chuckled. “Sleeping in the same bed as an old man was definitely not fun.”

He smiled softly and shook his head at you. “Let’s make that list.”

You and Bucky spent the majority of the day getting any and all necessities for the bunker and for yourselves. While Bucky worked on fixing the refrigerator and stove, you put the cans and boxes of food away and cleaned up the surfaces.

            “So, I had my dad look into this place, and apparently it’s actually abandoned,” you informed Bucky. “SHIELD put it under a pseudonym for us.”

            Bucky smiled to himself. “So, it is like a little home.”

“You could say that,” you chuckled.

“And that’d make us…” Bucky trailed off.

“Uh, roommates?” you quickly suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” Bucky exhaled as he put the tools down and tested the stove. “Fuck yes!” he exclaimed when the burners turned on and started to heat up. “Next is the fridge and then the water.”

You took a beer out of the 24 pack you’d bought and offered him one. He took it and opened it – tapping his bottle against yours. “Cheers,” you said before taking a sip at the same time. Taking a few minutes to rest, the two of you sat on the run-down sofa.

“Need to get some new furniture,” Bucky stated as he looked around the room.

You nodded. “I’ll send some ideas to my dad and have him send them over.” Bucky nodded and stared off in the direction of the other side of the room. He was obviously thinking. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, still staring off into the room. “Do you know if Loki is still with them?”

“Last I heard he was,” you answered. “Why?”

Bucky finally looked over at you with a quizzical look. “Think he’d put a concealment spell on this place?”

You shrugged. “We could ask,” you replied. It was honestly a great idea.

            A few hours went by, and Bucky had managed to fix the water and electricity. This meant you could get a shower for the first time in over a week. You didn’t want to leave the comfort of the warm water, but you knew you had to save some for Bucky. It was the least you could to. After all, he was the one who fixed everything up, yet he insisted you took the first shower. When you got out and changed into a brand new pair of sweatpants and a tank top, you felt cleaner than you’d ever felt. You brushed your teeth before leaving the bathroom and went to find Bucky.

            “Hey, I’m out!” you called out to the soldier. “Saved you plenty of hot water.”

Bucky walked around the corner at the same time you did, and you were surprised to see his shirt off. The look of the beautifully built man surprised you, but when he spoke, you were broken out of the trance.

            “Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to bump into ya.”

Maybe I want you to “bump into” me, you thought to yourself. “It’s fine,” you chuckled nervously before heading to the kitchen. “I’m gonna make some hamburgers. Want one?”

“Sure,” he smiled. “I’d love one.”

I’d love for you to join me in the shower, too, he added in his head.

You scurried away, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the bright red blush appearing on your face and neck.

            Bucky got into the shower and relaxed as the hot water rained down on him. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall in front of him. On his mind, however, was you.

            She’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. What am I talking about? She’s Steve’s daughter!” He tried to talk himself out of not finding you attractive, but it was impossible. He couldn’t help but replay your expression when he bumped into you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were starting to find yourself attracted to him as well. He imagined your body against his, and his hand made his way down to his hard cock.

            You were sitting in the small living area eating your hamburger. You had left all the condiments and buns out for Bucky to make his own, so when he came out of the shower, he headed towards everything. Once he put his burger together, he came over and sat next to you.

            “Pretty good, if I do say so myself,” you chuckled.

            Bucky took a bite and hummed in agreement. “Fucking delicious,” he quietly complimented. Unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer, Bucky decided he’d try and make a move. “Bet it’s not the only delicious thing you have.”

You chuckled softly and decided to flirt back. You slightly spread your legs and watched his reaction. “Bet you’d love to find out, huh?” Bucky bit his bottom lip – trying as hard as he could to turn his thoughts into words. However, he looked over at you and smirked instead. You took his inability to speak as a sign that he was getting turned on. “Bet you’d love a taste,” you continued to tease. You moved closer and let your lips ghost just outside of his ear. “I bet you’d taste even better,” you whispered.

Bucky turned to look at you. He wanted so badly to grab you, pull you into his lap, and kiss you as hard as he could, but you read his movements, and you decided that this little game wasn’t over. You winked at him and got up from the couch – making sure to sway your hips as you took your empty plate and soda can to the kitchen to clean and throw away. What you didn’t realize, however, was the super soldier lurking behind you. Before you could turn around or even notice he was there, his hands were on your hips, and his lips were gently planting kisses on the side of your neck – his breath causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

“I’ll give you a taste if you give me a taste, baby girl.”

[sinister-moonlight]

Its been so long since I finished @naffeclipse's fic Cryptid Sightings but I got the urge to draw some more Cryptid monster design for Eclipse cause I still can't stop loving the way Naff created their Crypid!Eclipse! <3 I cannot stop the love I have for CS and I do need to reread it one day.

I did forget that it was four arms sooo um... woop! Hahaha!

I was like always inspired by the AMAZING - I cant praise my love for Meep's art enough no matter how much I try!! - @themeeplord cause their CS!Eclipse makes me MELT! Lemme hold their cute face!! This time I went with a more glowly design since I love light effects and I imagine that this Cryptid!Eclipse can turn their light on and off to use as a angler fish to lure their prey closer in the dark.

Please check out both Naff and Meep for their amazing work and their ability to make me melt with their creations! <3

─────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────────────

A little "short" story under to build on the picture <3 Been a while since I written stories haha!

The ever pressuring darkness of the ancient forest around seem to chill you to your very bones. Every creak of the old trees makes you flinch and turn your head praying its just a bird, but there is no sound of any animals in the forest with you. No hooting owl. No scavenging fox in the underbrush.

It is just you.

Or is it?

The heavy blackness is suddenly breaking as a red light seem to come from a unknown source just a short ways in front of where you were going. It almost looks like a firefly as it bobbles gently in the wind. Another is soon followed but this one a deep blue.

You feel your tired legs start to move towards the almost hypnotizing light. The exhaustion in your body seem to get heavier as if the light is telling you that it is finally okay to take a break. You feel safe.

The silence of the forest is then shattered by the sound of bells.

'Ding... Ding...'

Its a soft sound. A sound that reminds you of a windchime softly singing in the summer breeze.

More lights are now accompanying the previous ones and they seem to almost take shape.

Your mind is trying to tell you that it is not safe. You know the stories of the demon in this forest - yet still you went in only armed with a old camera around your neck. The elders in your small town spoke of the demon - or old god as some called them - and how it lured in wrong doers and so called rulebreakers to punish them. You been taught and ordered already as a young child never to enter the forest at night, but the stories had done the opposite of scaring you away.

They had thrilled you to enter.

Yet now you feared that maybe you really should have listened. Maybe you should have been scared as slowly giant hands dipped in red and blue reached out for you to oh so gently grasp your head and hips. The size double of that of your head with claws longer then your whole hand. Sharper then the teeth of the old stray dog that you used to feed at night.

Bright yellow eyes enveloped in red stares into your own with a soft cooing and rumbling coming from fanged mouth. A sound resembling the bellows of a crocodile emitting from the being's chest where it's bright petal shaped crest stands proudly like that of a lions mane.

Slowly it pulls you in where the hands travel to gently lift you up and press you close to its body as if you were something precious to keep safe.

You are now fighting to keep your eyes open as they grow heavier and heavier as the gentle chime of the bells and the now soft rumbling sings you to sleep. The feeling of being moved only managed to make you lose the fight to stay awake.

The last thing you register as the slumber sweeps you under is a deep voice that whispers in your hair with what sounds like two overlapping voices.

"Rest little one. Nothing in our forest will cause you harm. Not as long as we can help it..."

[shuniverse]

sick ,, b.c , h.hj , l.f

🧷 I’m feeling icky rn and I’m pretty sure I have a sinus infection so here’s a lil fic of my skz biases with comfort for the sick reader 🥲❤️ I might do one with my bias wreckers (changbin, jisung, and minho) or maybe just the rest of skz lmao

🎐 self insert for me cuz I’m unwell so f!reader 🥲 ;; cute fluff ;; some swearing here and there ;; some angst but only cuz reader is sad and feels icky and that’s literally the only angst in here ;; it involves the skzoo babies because I have lixie’s, channie’s, and jinnie’s skzoo plushies 😋 ;;

;;

channie ☆

“channiieeee.” you whine from your bed, where you are desperately trying to catch some sleep to relieve your headache. you hear the rushed padding of bare feet on hard wood floor, and then the sound of feet stepping on carpet, til you feel his body dip down besides yours and one of his big arms drapes over your tired body.

“what’s up, baby? you okay? need water, an ice pack, some Tylenol?”

you giggle a bit and look at him, sniffling. “I just miss you channie and it’s lonely and cold in bed and my head hurts.”

he pouts before kissing your cheek. “aw baby girlll, my poor honey it’s so sad when you’re sick.” he buries his head into your neck, and you giggle again, then lean as far from his face as possible as you let out a chest wracking cough into your elbow.

you look back at him and he just looks so concerned. “sorry, channie, I’ve had this horrible cough the past couple days-“

you’re cut off when he lightly lays on you, burying his head into your boobs which lay snug yet braless under your camisole. he sighs.

“you don’t need to be sorry, baby. here, let’s just lay and chill, yeah? I’ve got someone else tooo.” he giggles and he fishes out your wolf chan plushie from where he’s buried under the blanket. you giggle too and cuddle them both.

“my channie’s are both cuddling with me, yayyy”

he smiles and giggles at your reaction. he snuggles further into your boobs while you hold the plush wolf in the crook of your elbow. you kiss his head, rubbing your fingers through his hair. the pretty purple leds of your room, which you bought to match his, made him look so so handsome and pretty, and you felt yourself swoon internally like it was your first time meeting him. but of course, sickness hates love, and as soon as you’re about to kiss his head again, you have to lean back and cough violently into your elbow, splattering your poor wolf chan plushie with your germs.

immediately, chan looks up, very concerned. then almost giggles when he sees your gawped expression at poor little wolf chan, and you cry out dramatically. “nooo! wolf channie is sick now!”

he giggles now, kissing your chest. “it’s okay, baby girl, I’ll just have to take care of both of you now.”

you pout and he laughs. “no need to look so sad, baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

you nod, even if this whole thing was because you accidentally coughed on your wolf chan plushie. the dramatics of it all make you laugh.

chan smiles at you, chin rested on your boobs. his cute little dimples make you smile too.

“I love you channie.”

“I love you more baby girl. now let’s get some rest, yeah?”

;;

jinnie ✿

hyunjin and you are doing some art together in his home studio, and though you aren’t feeling the best, you still want to spend time with him.

as per usual, he’s doing some beautiful painting, and you’re desperately trying to draw something in your sketchbook. maybe it’s your lack of motivation or the fact that your nasal passages are clogged, that your head feels stuffed full of cotton balls, that your throat is somewhat sore and your teeth ache when you inhale too sharp.

you honestly don’t know at this point and as soon as you feel a cough coming on, you accidentally toss your sketchbook across the studio and throw your head into your elbow to let out this violent cough. you don’t even register that the sketchbook hit poor hyunjin right in the shin, who cries out dramatically.

after your coughing fit, you sniffle and come back to reality, and he’s just looking at you with hurt (from the sketchbook) and also concern.

“oh! sorry jinnie-“

he immediately gets up from his stool as soon as you attempt to lift yourself up. “here here, no, I have your book, love. why’d you throw it though??”

you sigh, taking it as he hands it to you. “sorry I had to cough, and apparently the sinusitis demon took over my body and made me throw the sketchbook at you.”

he giggles at your little tale, crouching down in front of you to brush your hair back with his big hand, smiling at you sweetly. “it’s alright, princess, let’s just hope the mean ol’ sinusitis demon leaves you soon so I can kiss you again on those pretty lips.” he boops you and you giggle.

“hopefully, or you can get it and we can make out again because we both have it and it’s not a health hazard anymore.”

he laughs, patting your head. “you’re funny, you know that? look I love you but I am NOT getting sick, nuh-uh, no way.” he’s all sassy and waving his hand back and forth.

you fake pout. “but jiniiieee we could be sinusitis twins.”

“never say that despicably awful sentence to me ever again.”

you both laugh at your antics, but then he brushes your hair back again, and he helps you to your feet, kissing your forehead. “wanna go make some food to help you feel better? I could buy us some coffee tooo.”

you smile, nodding. “I’d love that jinnie. but no americano for you- you know what happened that one time.”

his face has a fake panic to it as he grips your shoulders, jokingly shaking you around. “don’t bring me back to that dark place, please, I wish to forget about that day.” he shivers, in his natural hyunjin dramatics.

you giggle. “sorry jinnie, couldn’t help myself.”

he sighs, kissing your forehead again. “I’ll go get jiniret, then we can go get some coffee okay?”

you nod happily. “okay!”

you stop for a second, turning away from him to cough again into your arm, followed by a sneeze. you look back up at him, sniffling, and giggle at his signature disgusted face.

“ewww don’t get me sickkkk.”

you laugh, holding his hand and walking to your room to get jiniret. “shush, mister.”

he playfully mocks you behind you as you grab your little jiniret plush. you swat his arm, which he laughs at.

“c’mon, jinnie, I want a matchaa.”

“coming your highness.”

you swat his arm again. “hey!”

he laughs. “love you.” he makes a little heart with his long fingers, a cute lil smile on his face.

you sigh. “I love you too, jinnie. now let’s go!”

;;

lixie ♡

you stumble out of yours and felix’s bedroom, one of his hoodies on your body while you hold a bbokari plush close to you. you pad barefooted down the hall and to the kitchen where felix is making brownies for you and him to share.

he smiles sweetly at you as you enter the kitchen. “hey, sweetheart. just working on some brownies, you feel okay?”

his deep, velvety voice soothes you just a bit, and you sniffle, still a bit groggy. “yeah, I’m okay, lixie. I still feel like complete ass, though.”

he giggles as you move closer to snuggle up to him, and he kisses your head. “that’s alright, love, hopefully these brownies will make you feel better.”

his Aussie accent makes you giggle, the way his better sounds like ‘bet-tAH.’ he looks at you, a little smile on his face. “what’s the giggle for, hm?”

you giggle again. “bettAH.”

he sighs. “you and your teasing, even when your sick, dunno how to deal with you sometimes.” he giggles himself, and you stick your tongue out playfully.

“you love me though.”

“that I do, princess. now why don’t you sit yourself on the counter, I’ll put the brownies in the oven and get you a drink, okay? what would you like?”

you smile and hop up on the counter, holding your bbokari plush in your lap, gently kicking your feet. “uhmm, what do we have, lix?”

he hums for a moment. “let me check.” you nod, giggling as he comes over to kiss your hands and then a little peck on bbokari’s head, and he walks to the fridge, opening it to see what’s inside. he pouts faintly when he closes it.

“I may have to just run out and buy something, baby. what would you like?”

you smile as he comes over to stand between your legs, looking up at you with his hands on your thighs. “uhmm, maybe Starbucks?”

he nods, kissing your chin. “okay, I can do that. want anything else while I’m out?”

“can I go with you, lixie?”

“baby, you need rest and-“

“pleeease lixie?”

he sighs, giving in easily. he can’t resist you much when you’re sick and say please so cutely. “alright, fine, but no getting more sick!”

you laugh, almost coughing on the spot. “I don’t think I could get any more sick, lixie.”

almost illustrating your point, you bring an arm up when your body decides you wrack itself with a heavy cough that nearly leaves your throat sore.

you look back at felix after your little coughing fit, and he’s pouting slightly. “baby you’re so sick, why not stay here where it’s warm?”

“because I wanna spend time with you lixiieeee.”

he sighs. “alright alright, I’ll go get your slides then, okay, baby?”

you nod, smiling, and he reciprocates it. “okay lixie.”

“when I come back, you, me, and little bbokari here can go on a trip.”

you giggle, seeing felix refer to bbokari as if he’s his son (which he may as well be).

you kiss his forehead. “I love you lixie.”

he smiles, bringing your hands up and kissing them before leaving to your room. “I love you too, sweetheart. brb!”

;;

hope you enjoy! this is all purely self indulgent because I’m sick atm and needed to get this out 🥲

I think it’s funny that I had the energy to get all the colors and stars and stuff 💀

feel free to like/reblog, it’s greatly appreciated! <3

[charaznablescanontoyota]

boat for short motherfuckers?

the lake is so quiet that audrey can hear the chirp of every insect, the call of every bird, the sound of her own heart palpitating in her chest. her eyes are squeezed shut so she doesn't have to see how far out in the water she is, but that just makes it worse - each wave that rocks her little rowboat could be someone with a mask and a knife coming up underneath it, tipping it over, dragging her below the surface.

"closing your eyes makes it worse," trish calls, across the water.

"yeah, i kind of noticed," audrey says flatly.

still. she opens her eyes. there are only three of them left on the lake, now; shigeo got his exit a full thirty minutes of mindful meditation ago, and shadow got his soon after. audrey's pretty sure shadow just fell asleep in his paddleboat, but the car must have counted it as enough rest and relaxation for the door to appear.

so it's her, it's trish, and it's al, who technically has a door on his boat already, but volunteered to stay behind until the others did too. maybe he wasn't expecting it to be so hard for them to relax, but he doesn't seem to mind having more time to fish with the improvised rod he put together back on the shore.

audrey sighs and drags her hands down her face. she can feel her genre butting up against the premise of this car, her danger sense pinging off of something she knows isn't there, and it's like bees in her brain. so maybe, actually, fuck the premise. maybe the way she gets through this isn't by being quiet and alone.

"when's the last time you were on a boat?" she asks aloud.

"oh," trish says. she's aimlessly paddling her paddleboat - pink, naturally - around in circles, sending ripples through the water. "in italy, when we split off from fugo. i don't remember a lot of it. i was dying."

audrey silently adds this to her mental catalog of insane trish anecdotes. she's not sure what reply she was expecting but - sure, italy. venice has waterways, right? that makes some kind of sense.

"you were dying?" al asks.

"my dad," trish says, which is all the elaboration she needs to give, because they've all seen her dad firsthand.

"i think the last time i was on a boat was when teacher took on me and brother as her students," al offers - maybe to cut the awkwardness, god bless him. "she stranded us on an island for a month."

"hey," audrey says. "what?"

"that's where i learned to fish," he adds cheerfully, every bit as skilled as trish at not elaborating on the anecdotes he shares from his home world. it's just harder to get annoyed at him for it.

"what about you?" trish asks.

audrey looks to her, squinting against the sun. "what?"

"when were you on a boat last?"

"oh. uh." she has to think about it. "i dunno. lakewood has...a fucked up lake. like, 'a murderer got shot by the cops there' fucked up. kids only go out there on a dare, or to fuck with each other."

the last time she was at the lake was at that party where noah almost drowned, she's pretty sure. audrey grimaces, tries once again to put the idea of outstretched hands under the water, ready to grab her ankles, out of mind.

"trish," she says aloud, grasping for something else to think about. "tell me a story that isn't about a time you almost died."

"i blew up a plane, once," trish says immediately, then pauses, hums to herself. "i think i almost died during that, actually. so - disqualified?"

"uh, no, fuck that. tell me about the plane you blew up," audrey says. it's true that the story might not meet her criteria but once, just once, she wants to hear the full story behind something outlandish that trish has so casually dropped into a conversation.

trish looks taken off guard; there's a beat of silence before she starts to actually tell the story, her voice low and careful, her eyebrows furrowed as she draws on the memory. audrey uses one oar to rotate her boat so she's facing trish, a little closer than before, then closes her eyes again and listens. it's easier to tune out the insects and the birds this time, easier to ignore the waves that rock the boat.

[partlystiles]

Hey uhh. Can you make a part 2 of Barty and reader talking about their dads but this time they meet in the future and hoe reader died? I sort of need some angst

PT 1

barty crouch jr x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with a relative of someone from his past makes Barty's head turn.

Warnings: swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of death.

sorry it's been a while!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dearest Barty,

Enclosed in this letter is an Occamy feather for you! You better like it because I nearly died getting it for you, I had to resort to the mating dance and screeching loudly so it wouldn't attack. They are very aggressive and protective over their eggs, just like I knew but I can't believe I managed to tame one.

Of course I didn't manage to get an egg, but I have a drawing of it in my case that I will bring back to you and tell you all about.

India is so much fun! I've learned Bollywood dancing, visited a lot of the temples, trekked in the Himalayans to get to the Occamy of course. I even came during Diwali and everything is so beautiful!

I wish you were here with me. You'd love the dancing, even if you think you wouldn't, I know it. I'll be home soon, happily back with you. Little Elijah or Eleanor, whichever one it is, has been kicking for their daddy. Misses you almost as much as I do.

I know you had your doubts about me going to India whilst five months pregnant but I've run into no trouble whatsoever, just a little kick here and there but you were there for the first one. It should be about 4 more days until I'm back and I'm so excited!

I'm hoping that everything is okay back home. I know there's been more recent disappearances, even Regulus Black. Poor boy. He was so nice to me, I can't imagine how his brother is feeling. As long as you're safe then I'm happy, very happy.

Four months until our baby comes into the world!

Boat is boarding soon, so I'll go post this letter now. I love you so much! See you soon.

Y/N x

Bartemius Crouch read the letter over and over again. And then again. Until he felt numb inside, numb all over until somebody had to physically force him out of his chair, let alone out of his house. His heart was shattered, crawling back together to try and attach itself again, but it didn't work. Everything just crumpled again, crumpled like the letter in Barty's hand that was stained with blood, tears and sweat.

Multiple times it had been fished out of the garbage, multiple times he had tried to smooth all of the wrinkles back out of the paper so he could read it one more time. Multiple times he had been on the verge of incinerating every inky last word...but he never did. Because he could never ever get rid of her, the thought of her, the knowledge of her. Her and his baby who was never ever birthed.

Little Elijah or Eleanor never met their daddy and their daddy never got to look into the eyes of his child and softly rock them from side to side whilst singing them to sleep. It was a loss greater than anything, but nothing will ever be greater than the loss of his wife. His sun, his moon, his eclipse. Without her, his nights were darkened, his days were lost and Bartemius Crouch Junior withered away in his grand house, wishing his love was still in his arms.

However, a knock at the door interrupted his nightmare of a daydream. A grunt escaped his lips at the sound of it, his hand's grip on his glass of alcohol tightening at the rim as his other hand wiped at his spiked stubble around his chin in an uninterested gleam.

"Go away." Barty raised his voice a little, stumbling up from his dishevelled armchair and letting the rest of the letter from his wife's travel that sat on his lap fall to the wooden floor below him. "No one's home."

As he tried to stumble away again, tipping the last of the alcohol down his throat, he heard his door open anyway. Despite the obvious want of not having someone with him at that current time, he could hear footsteps behind him, entering the grand room with an air of purpose and especially an air of arrogance.

"I said GO AWAY." Barty swivelled around, chucking his glass at the doorway that the person was stood in. They didn't flinch at all, but the glass smashed above the archway and the shattered pieces fell down to the floor. "Fucking...fuckin bitch. Fuckin leave."

"Mr. Crouch, please." The man in the doorway removed his hat from his head, holding it in front of him as he watched the broken man trip around his drawing room, walking to his fireplace. "I'm here to talk about my daughter. I believe you knew her. Her name was Y/N."

At once, Barty paused in his place beside the fireplace, his hand grappled on the mantelpiece as his eyes narrowed into fierce slits at the mention of the name. The man grunted drunkenly again, shaking his head as his hands slapped against the mantelpiece multiple times before he decided to hit his head instead.

"Don't..." He drawled, his voice like gravel scraping against his vocal chords before he looked at the man in the doorway. The man had a shadow cast over his face but the firelight highlighting his nose told Barty that he was a spitting image of his dear Y/N. "Don't act like you fuckin' cared about...about her. I know what you did."

"I-I didn't do anything. My girl ran away when she was 17...I've been trying to find her for years. They led me here."

"Well, you're about a year too late, old man." Barty chuckled darkly, pushing himself away from the fireplace to swipe his bottle of alcohol off of his coffee table, pouring a hefty bit into a new glass. "She's dead."

"I was afraid of that." The man sighed, shaking his head and Barty downed about half of his drink before squinting and facing the man again. This time with more suspicion as he began to wring his hat in his hands. "She always was reckless. Running off, wanting to explore the world when I had a perfectly good job lined up for her at the ministry."

"Maybe she didn't want to be a fucking brainless clone." Barty spat, placing his glass down on the table before running his hands through his growing hair and over his face disappointedly. "And why the hell did it take you five fucking years to go looking for her? Ask anyone, it would've led you to me. You wanna fucking know why?"

"I don't-"

"I was the one who convinced her to run away." He whispered comically, pointing to himself with a crazed laugh as his lover's father straightened up a little at the amusement Barty was taking. "Right after I put a ring on her finger, we ran all the way to fucking Glasglow and got married in a stable. How's that for your precious little girl?"

"You drove my daughter away from me!" The man walked towards Barty, who picked up his glass and downed the rest of the alcohol before turning until he was chest to chest with the man. "She could've had a great life. A great job with a great salary and a great husband with a son and a daughter. You took that from her?"

"You drove her away from you yourself!" Barty stumbled more, but poked a finger onto the man's chest anyway, eyeing his own wand on the table just metres away. "It was her dream to travel the world and that's exactly what I...what I let her do, what I encouraged her to do. She was fucking happy, fuckin' joyful. With me. With my child inside of her. But of course you and your fucking ministry can't leave a man alone for two seconds-"

"You see, she was coming home from India, 5 months pregnant with my baby- and she- and she, she was on the same boat as another Death Eater. I didn't even know the guy that well. You ministry Aurors showed up, and she was caught in the crossfire. She died. My baby died. My whole life was ripped away from me because of YOU. YOU AND YOUR FUCKING- YOU'RE FUCKING..."

"Spit it out, son." The ministry worker said, stepping back from the boy as Barty reached into his pocket and yanked out her goodbye letter, crumpling it again in his hand before he looked back at the man, quivering with rage.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. GO." He shoved his hands out, hitting the man away from him, but the elder one didn't even budge as Barty's weak drunken form pushed and pushed at the body. "GET OUT. SHE WOULDN'T WANT YOU HERE. LEAVE. Fuckin-"

Bartemius reached his hand out, bending down in his pause from slapping his late wife's father to walk over to the coffee table where his wand sat. He picked up his wand, pointing it at the man in front of him who now did stumble backwards at the sight of the crazed man threatening him with his wand. Although it seemed as though Barty couldn't get a clear shot.

"Avada Kedavra." A blinding flash of light and a thud reverberated around the room as Barty was left alone, stumbling again though he didn't bother to pour himself another drink, he just grabbed the bottle and let it slide down his throat. "Fuckin' bitch, freakin' fucker...

... I want my baby."

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Sultan's Shore (Kalim x GN!Reader)

Kalim’s sparkling white smile was almost blinding. His ruby eyes twinkled with happiness, his sun-kissed skin speckled with seawater. The young man was having the time of his life. He turned to you as he filled his bucket with yet another pound of wet sand. “[Y/n]! How’s the moat coming along?” 

“It’s going great!” You continued to pat down sand with your little shovel as Kalim trotted over. “I just need a bit more wet sand to pack in the walls around the moment, and then it’ll be finished!”

“Awesome!” Kalim knelt next to you and set his bucket of soppy sand between you. “I think this should be enough for that.” 

You nodded in agreement. You dug your shovel into the bucket and fished out some of the makeshift cement and brought it to the moat. You put a clump at its edge before you patted it down, securing it in place. You glanced up at the rest of you and Kalim’s sandcastle. It wasn’t the most glamorous, but it was coming along quite nicely. You honestly never expected Kalim to be so good at making sandcastles, but the man had some surprises in him yet. You chuckled as you eyed the little seashell Kalim had placed atop the tallest tower of the structure: the crown jewel of the palace. 

“I love making sandcastles,” Kalim said as he began constructing yet another small tower. “My siblings and I love going down to the beach; we often have contests on who can make the best sandcastle.” His eyes suddenly lit up - you could practically see the lightbulb atop his head. “We should have one here! Tomorrow!” 

You smiled at his enthusiasm. “That sounds like fun! I know many would enjoy it - but it might be best if we separated people into teams. There’d be more space that way, and it’d allow for us to make even bigger sandcastles.” 

“Yeah!” Kalim’s grin was as bright as the sun. “That’s such a good idea. You’re amazing, [Y/n]!” 

You let out a chuckle, your cheeks now dusted a bit pink. “Well, it’s not the most unique idea. I just thought it’d be fun.” To try and save yourself from further flustering, you moved the conversation along. “Should we separate teams by dorm or by randomly chosen groups?” 

“I think random groups would be cool.” Kalim gave a small pout as his small tower grumbled soon after he lifted the bucket. “How do we do that though?” 

“We could have people draw straws,” you suggested. You helped Kalim reconstruct his failed tower as you continued. “Or we could draw colored strips from a hat. Either way, the ones with the same things drawn would be on the same team.” 

Kalim’s smile quickly returned - both by your ideas and by how this tower did not grumble. “I’ll get it set up then! I hope Jamil and I will be on the same team…wait, I should try to aim to be on an opposite team.” 

“Why?” 

“So I don’t rely on him as much.” Kalim began to decorate the sandy structure with more shells. “He does so much for me already, and we’re almost always on the same team since we’re both in Scarabia. I need to show Jamil I can be independent; he needs to see that he can do other things without having to worry about me.” 

Your heart softened in that instant. You knew why Kalim felt that way; even if it was months ago, Jamil’s overblot was still on his mind. When he realized just how little Jamil had gotten to live because of him, Kalim felt genuine remorse. He still wished to be friends with Jamil - but, above all else, he cared for his well-being and feelings. There were many people at the college who didn’t have the same heart as Kalim…he really was a kind, sweet man. Your smile softened as you patted Kalim’s hand. 

“I’m sure Jamil would appreciate that, Kalim.” Then, for a moment, you exchanged your smile for a frown. “But will you be okay? I know how much you love to spend time with Jamil.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Kalim reassured you with another bright smile, eyes shining with determination. “Besides, I have other friends I can be on a team with. There’s Cater, Lilia, Silver; I’d really love to be on a team with you, too, [Y/n]!” 

You let out a small laugh. “I’m not very good at making sandcastles, Kalim. I’m surprised this moat turned out as well as it did. I don’t know how much helped I’d be.” 

“It doesn’t matter to me whether or not you’re good.” Kalim scoot a little closer to you, eyes fixated on yours. Your foreheads almost touched…you felt your heart flutter. “All that matters is if you’re there having fun with me.” 

Had Kalim always been this pretty? You knew he was sweet, he always was, but…something about the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to you now, was different. Before you could discern it further, a voice from across the beach caught both of your attentions. 

“Kaliiiimm!” You both turned your heads to see Lilia further up the beach. One hand held his parasol, while the other held two glasses of…something. Likely some tropical drink - non-alcoholic, of course. If it weren’t for the thin stems at the bottom of the glasses, you’d wonder how Lilia could carry them in one hand. “You have to try this drink - it’s delectable!” As the third year drew near, he tucked the parasol under his chin and offered the glasses to the two of you. 

“Oh, thanks Lilia!” Kalim stretched out his hand and took one of the glasses. He glanced over his shoulder at you as he sat back on his heels, “Here, [Y/n], I’ll share it with you.”

“Actually,” Lilia offered the other glass to you, parasol back in his other hand, “this is for you, [Y/n]. I couldn’t leave you without a refreshment.” The fae’s eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint in his red orbs as he smirked. “As cute as it would be for the two of you to share, I can’t have you exchanging saliva just yet.” 

Neither of you said a word as Lilia walked away - as if he hadn’t left you two red in the face. After a moment of stunned, embarrassed silence, you and Kalim finally met each other’s eye. He gave you an awkward smile and laugh as he raised his glass. “W-Well, let’s drink! If Lilia says they’re good, they must be!” 

You returned his awkward smile, though yours was a tad shy. “Y-Yeah…”

So, the two of you sipped your drinks and continued to build your sandcastle. Lilia was right, they were good…but his words haunted your mind. They lingered too much, apparently. You could have sworn Kalim kept glancing in your direction when you weren’t looking. You two ended up naming your sandcastle ‘Sultan’s Shore’ - and Kalim did not hesitate to make clear he would always love to share that shore with you. 

[nebulablakemurphy]

Way Down We Go (Part 3)

Summary: Y/N and Daryl follow a dead end that leads them to wash up on the shores of France. While their daughter takes an impromptu trip to the big city, in hopes of saving her childhood friend. Warning: cannon typical violence, mentions of sex and Dead City/Walking Dead/Daryl Dixon spoilers.

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/N comes to with a steady pounding on her torso. Not her heart, it’s much too forceful.

“Come on, Y/N.” Daryl. It has to be Daryl. It was always Daryl.

Her chest burns, desperate for air, as the pounding continues. Her face flush with the damp sand, sputtering up water.

“Good girl,” Daryl sighs in relief, continuing to pat her back as she clears her lungs; gasping. “Yer, a’right.”

She finally collects herself enough to pant out, “Daryl.”

“I got ya.” He grunts, pulling her up into a sitting position.

Last thing she remembers is wading water, before the waves overtook them, the boat long gone. Torn to shreds. They must’ve washed up on shore somewhere. “Where are we?”

“Mnm,” too soon to say.

The beach is empty, no walkers, no people.

“I say we clear tha area. Get our asses covered, set up camp here for tha night. Catch us some fish.”

“Yeah,” Y/N nods. They’ve had water, from the rain, but very little food.

He brushes his lips over her cheek. Still worried, even now.

Y/N pats the side of his face in return. “I’m ok.”

Daryl nods, leaving her to it.

He catches the fish, Y/N skins them, while Daryl starts the fire. Nothing big, not wanting to draw attention.

“Admiring your work?” Y/N smiles. Cocking her head to the side, when she notices him staring at the opening in her pant leg. The one he tore wider to stitch her up.

“Just lookin’,” Daryl says, sweeping hair from his eyes.

“You need a haircut.” Y/N teases. “Where’s my mom when you need her?” Carol, along with a plethora of other talents, had become their resident hairdresser.

“Here.” Daryl pulls his knife, from the sheath, at his hip. “I trust ya.”

“You sure?” Y/N takes the blade from him, carefully.

“Mhm,” he grumbles.

“Ok.” Y/N scoots in closer.

Daryl watches her, intently. The same way he always does.

“I’m just gonna take a little off the front.”

“A’ight.” He nods, drawing her into his lap. Mindful of her stitches as he closes the distance between them.

Y/N huffs a laugh, shifting slightly over him. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am.” Daryl lets his hands rest on her hips.

Her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, in concentration.

Daryl eyes fall closed at the feel of her fingers in his hair. He is safe. Safe with her. After a time the knife comes away, leaving a neat pile of hair on the ground.

Y/N brushes wayward locks from his shoulders. “All done.”

“Thanks.” He opens his eyes, locking with hers.

“You’re welcome,” she leans back.

“Admirin’ yer work?” It’s Daryl’s turn to poke fun at her.

Y/N shakes her head, eyes flitting about his face. “Just looking.” Silence.

His heart seizes, forcing him to speak. “Love ya.”

“I know.” Y/N breathes, “I love you too.”

————————————————————————

Carol saved their group countless times, from Terminus to present day.

Sophie trusts that she knows when to hold’em and when to fold’em. Carol allows the pigeon lady that led them away from the hoard and the New Babylon Marshals, to take them across a questionable zip line, to be held at drill point by her people, before being locked in a holding cell, Sophie doesn’t fight it.

These people are just protecting their own, from the real assholes. The Burazi. They show up and kill the lady who brought them across the zip line, to some kind of safety.

Negan manages to nab the guy who did it. Whipping off his black helmet with all the spikes and marching him back inside, to show the Burazi exactly who they’re fucking with. One thing about Negan is that he protects his people.

As fate would have it, a member of the rogue group they’re now traveling with has met the Croat in the flesh and lived to tell the tale.

“If there’s a way out, there’s a way in.” Carol reasons.

“If we go in there then we all die.” The man with the tattoo beside his temple points out. “And for what?”

“For my son.” Maggie says. “To save my son.”

“Your son’s already dead and you know it.” The man insists.

“Enough,” Negan stops him.

“Maggie, we don’t know that.” Sophie reaches for the older woman as she moves away from the group.

Maggie takes her hand, giving a squeeze before dropping it.

Sometimes people need to be alone, Sophie doesn’t fight that either.

————————————————————————

“How’s this for a honeymoon?” Y/N says, as they map the area.

“Shouldn’t we be screwin’?” Daryl grumbles.

Y/N arches a brow at him. “First we figure out where we are. Then we screw.”

“Fair ‘nough,” he agrees.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re happy with just Sophie, right? I mean, you didn’t want more kids.”

“Yer what I want.” Daryl tells her. “Sophie is more than I coulda asked for. Helped raise Judith and RJ after...” After Rick. “Ya want another?”

“I’m good,” Y/N assures him.

“Why’d ya ask?”

“I’m not a spring chicken anymore, but if we aren’t careful, it could still happen.” Back home, they have access to contraception. Here, not so much.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Daryl admits. They’re older now, been through enough together.

Y/N clears her throat, moving briefly in front of him. “Look, there’s something written on that wall.”

‘pouvoir des vivants’

“What’s that?”

Y/N traces the old paint, with her fingertips. “I think it’s French.”

“Don’t ya know French, Peletier?”

“Ed knew French.” Y/N corrects him, “not me.”

“Mmm.”

“And didn’t you hear I got hitched? It’s Dixon now.”

“Lucky guy.” Daryl plays along.

The telltale grunt of walkers can be heard up ahead.

“Come on.”

————————————————————————

“What’d ya say to her?” Sophie demands, catching Negan leaving the room Maggie’s in.

“Jesus Christ, kid! You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me.” Negan throws his head back.

“Gimme a reason to trust ya and I won’t have to watch so closely.” Sophie challenges.

“We were just talking.”

“Why would Maggie wanna talk to ya?”

“Like it or not, Daryl Jr., we are in this together. We’re working as a team, however long that lasts, hell if I know. But for now, we gotta have a smidgen of trust between us for this plan to work. I am not your enemy.”

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Sophie clenches her jaw. “Is she ok?”

“She will be.” Negan sighs, “soon as we get Hershel back.”

“I can see that you’re tryin’. I appreciate it, we all do. But there’s some things ya can’t come back from. Things ya did to my family, to Maggie and Hershel…

There’s a picture in my Mama’s drawer back home, from when I was a baby. Glenn was holdin’ me. I don’t remember him. Wouldn’t know him from Adam, without that picture. It never sat right knowin’ there was a picture of him holdin’ me and not one of him holdin’ his own son.

One night I finally decided to do somethin’ about it. I took it. Hid it, tryin’ to figure out what to do with it.” Sophie breaks off, gathering her thoughts. “My Mama realized it was missin’…I never heard her scream like that.”

Negan runs a hand over his face.

“I gave it back. Told her why I did what I did and she forgave me. But between us, she hasn’t looked at me the same way since. Ya killed Glenn and took my dad away from her, all in one night. Ya kept my dad a prisoner and tortured him, just because ya could. Just to prove a point.”

Negan doesn’t speak, just lets her finish.

“Apologies are nice. Changin’ your ways, makin’ amends, I’m all for it. But the truth is, once ya hurt someone like that, there’s nothin’ ya can do to fix it.”

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter Seven: Blasterslingers

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair, Tech (Flashbacks), Jango Fett (Flashbacks)

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: For the first time in his life, Crosshair disobeys orders

Read the previous chapters here:

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Also Available on AO3

Night stalked the ranch, smothering the last orange sunlight with a glittery indigo blanket.

Cad and the kid sat in the belltower, their sniper rifles side-by-side as their scopes scanned the only road in or out of the ranch, waiting for Skatter’s gang. 

The wheat field flickered blue as stalker lizards tested their luck, hoping to get at the fabools for an easy meal. 

“How long will that shield last?” Cad quizzed.

“All night,” the kid said. “Or until someone shoots out three of the sensors.”

“Which Skatter will,” Cad added.

“Because he was the one who set them up,” the kid answered.

“Where will I be?”

“You’ll be on the ground, drawing fire away from the house and steer them into the mines we set up today.”

“And you?”

The kid sighed. “I will stay here in the tower and wait for your signal”

“Exactly.” 

Of course, Cad had no intention on giving any signal. This was Cad’s fight, not the kid's. 

"Are you sure the fabools will be okay?" the kid asked.

“Skatter knows their value, he ain’t goin’ anywhere near those fabools and Todo’ll take care of the stalker lizards. They'll stay right here n' aim for a short fight.”

The kid fidgeted with the settings of his scope. “When are they gonna be here?"

“No idea, but he’s comin’. And we’ll be ready.”

“Roger,” the kid said.

Cad fished a toothpick out of his pouch and…paused when he saw the kid pull a piece of brittle wheat from his jumpsuit pocket.

“Trade ya,” Cad said, offering his toothpick.

The kid’s eyes doubled in size like Cad just handed him a hundred credits. He took the toothpick and gave it an experimental pressure test between his thumbs. It held firm.

“Kashyyyk wood,” Cad said, flicking the piece of wheat out the window. “Takes a lotta punishment before it breaks. When you line up a difficult shot, clench down on it, then relax your jaw as you pull the trigger.”

The kid put the toothpick in his mouth and immediately wiggled it with his tongue. 

“Don’t fuck around with it too much,” Cad huffed, showing him a second toothpick and putting it between his left main incisor and his front fang. “Rest it on your lip, slide in, let it hang. If ya gotta tongue it, just don’t be obvious. Too much jostlin’ makes ya look fidgety. Ain’t good for negotiations.”

“When will I need to negotiate anything?” The kid asked.

“When you take on your first bounty hunt,” Cad sneered.

It was a joke, but the kid’s eyes went round again with hope, then his whole expression deflated. “I'm a soldier. Soldiers don't hunt bounties.”

“Wouldn't count on anything bein’ a sure thing. Ya never know what life's got planned for ya, no matter what the Kaminoans say.”

The kid shrugged, the toothpick moving around a little, but no longer wiggling.

“Here,” Cad huffed and pulled out a cluster of toothpicks. “In case ya swallow that first one.”

The kid shot him an annoyed look, but Cad could see the underlying smirk. He took the toothpicks and opened up a pouch on his utility belt.

Cad spied a familiar wrapper in the pouch. A wrapper he would see littering the Firespray , when Jango was particularly stressed. 

“That a starsbar? Thought you didn’t like candy.”

“It's not for me, it's for Tech. He has a sweet tooth when he gets stressed.”

The kid’s expression went dour and he tucked the toothpicks away next to the crumpled up candy bar.”

“You’re gonna see him soon,” Cad said, though he wasn't being paid to make the kid feel better.

“I’ve never been away from my brothers this long. Someone was always within touching distance. Even when Pynk pulls one of us into his office for reprimands, Hunter or I sneak into the vents to let our brother know they aren’t alone.”

“Who’s Hunter?”

“My oldest brother. I have three. Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech.”

Cad waited to hear this kid’s name.

The kid seemed to sense it and shrank away.

“Where do y’all get these names?” 

“We just get them. Wrecker breaks things, Tech likes to say things like ‘technically’ plus he’s good at slicing. Hunter is a natural tracker. These names stick, and sometimes you can’t get rid of them. There is a cadet who got scared in training and ran screaming from a training droid. They call him Droid Bait. He’ll never be called anything else.”

Cad was starting to get it.

“So someone gave you a name ya don’t like, huh?”

The kid focused real hard on everything except Cad’s studious gaze. 

Shit, I hit a nerve…not that I’m paid to- aw who am I kiddin’.

“Hey, kid,” he said with a gentle tone that was odd to his own ears. “ just tryin’ to-”

“Misfire.”

Cad blinked. “You’re shittin’ me.”

The kid shot him a look. “It’s not my name…or I mean…it isn't what my brother’s call me, but…it’s what everyone else calls me.”

“Well, that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. When you get back to those cadets, you can shoot that name right between their eyes.”

The kid raised a salt and pepper eyebrow.

“Metaphorically speaking,” Cad sneered. “I ain't callin' ya Misfire. You're 'Kid'.”

“I like…Kiddo too,” the kid murmured.

Bane pointed his toothpick at the kid. “You're Kiddo only if you ain’t bein’ a lil shit. Cursin’ me in Mando’a when ya think I ain’t listenin.”

The kid’s sneer looked a whole lot like Bane’s.

“Roger that,” and the kid gave a sarcastic salute.

That little gesture he definitely got from Cad.

Call ‘em soldiers all you want, Jango, Cad thought. They’re still just kids n’ they deserve better than threats of retirement and bullies who're probably scared too.

“Am I your son?”

Cad almost swallowed his toothpick and he coughed it out into his palm. “What?” 

“Skatter called me your son. You didn’t correct him.”

Cad knew that Skatter was trying to rattle Cad. Arguing would've made him look defensive. 

But to this kid, Cad thought, born out of some fuckin’ test tube…shit, guess it looked like somethin' different.

“Do you want kids, Cad?”

Cad lifted his hat off his face. Jango always managed to ask him the damndest questions just as started to doze off.

“What?”

“Just a simple question from a simple man,” Jango hummed, gazing up at the stars.

“Ain’t nothin’ ever simple with you,” Cad snorted. “And no. Hell no. The hell am I gonna do with a kid in tow?”

“Start a legacy? Pass on what you’ve learned to someone who can grow beyond you?”

“There ain’t no legacy to be made,” Cad said. “I’m an orphaned Duros with whippin’ scars and a handful of bounties under my belt. No one’s gonna look up to this fuckin’ disaster.”

Jango turned his head towards Cad.  He looked…disappointed. “You have more to give than you realize.”

“Yeah,” Cad frowned. “So ya keep tellin' me.”

"It's the truth, Caddy."

“Tell ya what. You make all the kids ya want and I’ll just be the fun uncle that hypes ‘em up with candy and a loaded blaster. Deal?”

It was supposed to be a joke.

But Jango still looked disappointed.

“Kiddo...” Cad started. It is was hard at those big watery human eyes. “If…you were my son, I’d tell ya that in this galaxy ya don’t have to be anything you don’t wanna be.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a soldier now, but that don’t mean you gotta take any orders blindly. Question orders. Don’t walk in blind. If it don’t sit right, don’t fuckin’ do it. Trust no one. Keep your guard up. And…”

Caddy, seriously, don’t say it…Jango ain’t payin’ you to turn this kid into an anarchist like you.

“And...fuck the establishment.”

“What’s an Establishment?”

The woop woop woop of the alarms flashed on Cad’s gauntlet. 

“Focus up, kiddo, we got company.”

***

“Technically,” Tech said, “Our father is Jango Fett since he supplied the DNA.”

“And our mom?” Crosshair asked.

“Hmm…I suppose she’s the pre-natal tank that preserved us during gestation.”

“What about Nala Se?” Crosshair asked. “She feeds us, tutors us, and she hums to Wrecker when he has trouble sleeping.”

“She is our caretaker.”

“In your book, the mom sang to the children.”

“What book?”

Crosshair pulled up Little House in the Big Field on his datapad.

Tech looked at the book, then looked at Crosshair. “We are clones, Crosshair,” he said, adjusting his brand new goggles that didn't quite fit his face yet. “We do not need parents like the children in that book. Our path is one of military efficiency. Those natborns are far more helpless than we ever were. They need nurturing to survive, we only need what is provided by this facility.”

“Oh,” Crosshair said, scrolling through the pages. He stopped at his favorite illustration, the little girl riding her father’s shoulders. They are both laughing.

“Does that make sense?” Tech asked.

“We’re clones,” Crosshair murmured. “We don’t need parents.”

“Crosshair...” Tech said.

Crosshair didn’t look up. The father in the book would do anything for his kids. He hunt puma, he built them toy forts, he gave them piggyback rides.

Tech leaned forward until he was in Crosshair’s vision. “We don't have parents. But we do have each other.”

Crosshair looked at his brother. Older than him, technically, but inseparable since birth. Crosshair liked to call them twins. Tech never corrected him. 

“I know, Tech.”

Tech leaned his head against Crosshair's shoulder. “These goggles make my eyes hurt. Will you read tonight?”

“What book?”

“Whatever you want.”

Crosshair held up Little House in the Big Field .

"Acceptable."

Tech wrapped the blanket around both of them and Crosshair began to read.

Crosshair chewed on his toothpick, mindful not to move it around too much like Bane said. His aim was steady, the scope spewing out readings of the distance, speed, and predicted trajectory of the speeders charging down the winding road towards the ranch. 

A month ago he’d be nervous. A month ago he’d hear “Misfire” echo in his mind.

Tonight, his mind was quiet. He was ready. 

And more importantly, Bane believes I’m ready too. Just have to wait for his signal.

“Why can’t we shoot them now?” Crosshair asked. 

“You got Skatter in your sights?” Bane asked.

“I do.”

“Shift your scope a little to the left, nearest speeder.”

Crosshair moved to the next speeder. It was full of dowutins.

“His people are loyal, and two of his cousins are in this gang. Killing Skatter ain’t gonna cut the head off the snake. It’ll only give away our position. Far as Skatter knows, this is still an ornamental tower with a weather vane.”

“I won't strike until you give the signal,” Crosshair promised.

“Atta boy.” Bane said.

Crosshair cracked a smile. 

"Show time." Bane stood up, his spurs jingling as he walked backwards towards the fake chimney's chute. “See ya soon, kiddo.” 

And with that Bane gave a sarcastic salute and dropped backwards and disappeared out of sight.

So wizard, Crosshair thought. He turned his attention to the rows of surveillance cameras.  

For a few long moments, everything was quiet except for the distant hum of speeders approaching like an angry swarm of bees. 

Crosshair could practically see the fight in his head. Any moment, Bane would appear, wide-brim hat lowered, hands resting on his blasters, maybe a tumbleweed rolling by. Bane would say something intimidating and badass that shook up the bad guys, then he'd give Crosshair the signal! Crosshair didn't know what the signal looked like, but it was probably equally badass. Then Crosshair would shoot the hats off all the outlaws and they’d   run for the hills.

That’s how it happens in the holofilms he and Wrecker liked to watch.

And Bane was practically a living, breathing Wild Space holofilm star.

And I'm his trusty sideki-

An explosion rattled the fantasy out of Crosshair’s head. His chest shook, the whole house vibrated, and suddenly only four speeder were hurdling towards the ranch house. Three more explosions followed and Crosshair saw the shield flicker then die just as the speeders entered the wheat field.

Black smoke billowed out of the speeders, mixing with the gray plumes from the sizzling wheat stalks, filling the moonlit night with black and silver humorless clouds. Like blood red lightning, blaster fire pierced the night in a relentless barrage. 

Todo zoomed by the tower, thrusters searing Crosshair’s vision as he dove towards the Fabool enclosure brandishing a pair of pistols. Stalker lizards hissed and skittered away as soon as he approached.  Todo would keep the fabools safe for now, but this also meant Bane was alone.

The signal!

Crosshair looked at every monitor. There was no sign of the bounty hunter.

He peered through his scope, searching the field, the porch, everywhere and found no one.

Did I miss the signal? Is he waiting for me? Does he think I abandoned him?

There was too much smoke, too much blaster fire in too many directions. It was loud and bright and confusing. He tried to peer through his scope again, but another explosion turned his night vision a glaring white. He hissed in pain, blinking away the dancing lights in his retinas. 

This wasn’t the plan. He and his brothers had ninety-nine plans, but none of them applied to Bane and this situation.

The only plan Bane ever gave him was…keep firing and keep running. 

Keep running. I can do that.

Crosshair went to the control panel and flipped every switch attached to a mirrored panel on the field, then slung his rifle over his shoulder and slipped out of the tower. 

“There’s someone on the roof!” An instant later, the blaster fire surrounded Crosshair. He was used to live blaster fire during training, but he wasn’t used to this much coming from so many directions. He kept running, his eyes trained on the trellis on the edge of the roof. That was his first mission. Climb down. Reassess. Don’t stays stationary for long. 

“Kid! Down!”

Crosshair didn’t think. 

He didn’t look. 

He acted.

Throwing himself belly down onto the roof, a rocket whistled overhead and exploded the back porch in a fiery blaze. The hiss of Todo's fire extinguisher coming a moment later.

Don’t stop. Keep moving.

Crosshair slithered towards the ladder, then descended awkwardly, nearly twisting his ankle in the thick vines. As soon as he landed, he spied Bane pinned by blaster fire behind his speeder, shooting his twin blasters blindly overhead. The top of his hat was smoking from a blaster bolt that had narrowly missing his head.

Crosshair stared wide-eyed at him.

They shot Bane.

Then he narrowed his eyes.

They fucking shot Bane.

Crosshair peeked around the corner. One speeder had hit a sensor mine and was smoking. The four remaining skidded to a halt and they were carefully making their way forward. Two more explosions went off. Crosshair counted ten outlaws remaining. 

The speeder that shielded Bane was also blocking them both from using the mirrored panels.

Crosshair needed to draw the blaster fire away from Bane. If he could get to the field, he could regain his line of sight.  All he had to do was run and not stop running. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Bane shouted over the blaster fire as if  knowing what Crosshair was thinking. “Get back in that tower. Now. ”

Crosshair almost obeyed the order.

He should have. Bane was his mentor. His word was law.

But leaving Bane behind was not an option.

He took the rifle off his shoulder.

He gave Bane a sarcastic salute. 

And he ran. 

If he saw an outlaw in the reflection of a mirror, he fired. If he missed, he fired again. If he hit the target, he kept running to seek the next target.

He fired one blaster bolt and hit three outlaws. Two of them went down.

That was so wizard…wait, shit, I’ll celebrate that later…

...But I hope Bane saw it, too.

“Down!” He heard Bane shout and he slid just in time to watch a rocket sail over his head. He rolled forward and kept running and dodging.

He glanced behind him only once to find Bane standing atop the speeder, firing his blasters. One...two...three...four weequay went down in quick succession.

Crosshair took down the last weequay and that just left the dowutins and Skatter who was holding that damn rocket launcher that tried to blow up Crosshair twice. 

The dowutins turned their attention back on Bane who ran towards the porch, ducking behind one of the pillars, his skinny form practically vanishing except for the flash of silver from his blasters. 

One of Skatter’s cousins fell over onto Skatter who shoved him away.

“Bane!” Skatter roared, struggling to reload the launcher which seemed to be jammed. “You’re just wastin’ time. You can either leave now and the ranch survives or I just blow y’all up with this here launcher. Neither one of us wants that. Last warnin’!”

“The ranch’s mine, sleemo,” Bane shouted. “And your runnin’ outta boys a lot quicker than I am.”

“Then let’s even the playin’ field,” Skatter grinned, throwing down the launcher and pulling something small from his pouch.

Crosshair heard the familiar beep of a thermal detonator before he saw the red and blue flicker streak through the night sky.

It landed with a dull thud next to him. 

Crosshair didn’t think. 

He didn’t look. 

He acted.

It was like he was outside of himself, instinct taking over as his hand snatch the det and flung it right back towards the dowutins. 

Oh shit. 

Crosshair rolled behind one of the mirror panels which provided...no cover at all.

Shit.

He hugged his rifle against his chest protectively.

The concussive blast hit him before the deafening sound slammed against his eardrums. He was airborn. His body went into cold shock, then screamed in pain. 

He landed hard on his back, his vision was doubling, quadrupling, there were too many stars in the sky and they were all swimming at nauseating speed.

Through the ringing in his ears, he thought he heard more blaster fire and then nothing at all.

Everything had gone quiet.

Which meant either he went deaf or the fight was over.

A figure loomed over him, blacking out the blurry stars. 

“Looks like your bell got rung, kiddo,” he heard Bane say, a flash of white fangs told Crosshair he was smiling. 

“Is it over?” Crosshair coughed.

“Well ya blew Skatter and his cousins to pieces. So yeah, I’d say it’s as over as it gets.”

Crosshair started to sit up to get a better look at the carnage. Bane blocked his path. “Ain’t no reason to see that shitshow right now. Can ya stand?”

“I am standing,” Crosshair said only to realize that not only was he still sitting, but the ground felt like it was made of mashed potatoes. 

“Climb up.”

Crosshair blinked up at Bane. “What?”

“Climb up.” Bane repeated, kneeling down and patting his own back. “Up.”

Crosshair’s eyes went wide. “I can have…a piggyback ride?”

Bane’s head tilted, one brow ridge raised “A what?” 

“Nothing!” Crosshair lunged forward and clung to Bane’s neck. Bane hooked his arms under Crosshair’s leg, lifting him easily. 

Pressing his cheek against the rough leather collar of Bane’s coat, Crosshair looked over at the smoking speeders. There was a piece of…something charred on the ground. He quickly decided to look the other way, towards the Fabool enclosure where Todo had managed to chase off the rest of the stalker lizards and was repairing the shield.

Bane crossed the threshold into the house and the smoky night air was replaced by the warm scent of wood and remnants of the stew Bane made them that afternoon. 

Crosshair wondered if this is what the house from Little House in the Big Field smelled like?

Bane knelt beside the floral couch that neither Bane nor Crosshair used since he arrived. The couch was stiff and smelled musty, clearly for decoration. Bane pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and draped it over Crosshair's shoulders. It was surprisingly soft and warm, and unlike the couch it smelled clean, faintly of fabric softener and lavender. The weight of it felt like a gentle hug.

For the first time since the bell tower, Crosshair felt like he could breathe. 

Bane pulled out the med kit hidden under the couch and examined Crosshair’s wounds. There were scrapes all over his body, his head was sticky with blood, and apparently a piece of shrapnel stuck out of his calf that Crosshair didn’t feel until Bane tugged experimentally at it. 

Bane left the shrapnel alone and started with the cut on Crosshair’s head. “Well, my contract didn’t say nothin’ about bringin’ ya back unharmed, but think this’ll be gone by the time I do bring ya back.”

Crosshair lowered his eyes and said nothing. 

Waiting...

Bane stopped dabbing at the cut on Crosshair’s forehead. “Kid? You get your ears blown off?”

Crosshair kept waiting.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about your fuckin’ percentages tonight of all nights.”

Crosshair raised his eyes briefly. “I disobeyed your orders.”

“Ya sure did,” Bane hummed, dabbing bacta over the wound and then pulling out tweezers to pull the shrapnel from Crosshair’s leg. “And it was a fuckin’ dumbass move. I had a pair of traps I was gonna spring on the dowutins, just needed them to come a lil closer. You runnin' out into the field like a wild heaadless chicken stopped 'em in their tracks.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“That’s because,” Bane pulled the shrapnel out slowly, then soothed it with bacta gel. Crosshair hissed, but didn’t complain. “I didn’t count on Skatter forgettin’ those traps were there. He’s the one who planted them in the first place, the idiot. But that’s the thing, ain’t it? Can’t account for everythin’. Ya gotta be ready to improvise even in the best laid plans.”

“Oh…” Crosshair deflated. “I’m sor-”

“Shut up, kiddo,” Bane said, but his tone was gentle. He carefully wrapped the leg up in a soft bandage. “Don’t you go bein’ sorry for listenin’ to your gut. Fool decision or not, ya went for it. I had to improvise when you went runnin' and you improvised by blowin’ up Skatter and his cousins to smithereens. Woulda liked to pull the trigger on Skatter myself, but hell I ain’t interested in a vengeance plot unless I’m gettin’ paid for it.”

Crosshair was quiet for a moment. “So I did good?”

Bane threw Crosshair a sideways smile, baring his pearly fangs. “Ain’t no good fishin’ for compliments in shark-infested waters, kiddo.”

Crosshair smirked. “Fine.”

“How do you think you did?”

Crosshair immediately went to the numbers. “My percent-Ow! Haar’chak !”

Bane shot him with antibiotics without warning.

“Fuck the numbers,” Bane said. “How’d it feel?”

Crosshair rubbed his sore arm. “Good. Scary, but good. Didn’t stop when I missed a target. I lined the shot up again and again until I hit my mark. I drew fire away from you. That was my main mission. I don’t leave my own behind.”

Bane threw Crosshair a look, confused maybe, but Crosshair thought he saw a twinkle in those glowing red eyes.

"Huh..." Bane said thoughtfully, then sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. It looked like he was catching his breath, and Crosshair realized he had a few cauterized blaster bolt burns and some shrapnel in his own leg. “The lesson you should get outta this experience, kiddo,” Bane said as he tended to his own wounds. “is that you listened to your gut. It worked out this time and maybe that ain’t the case next time. Don’t matter. I’d rather die listening to my own instincts than risk my life on someone else’s orders that don’t sit right.”

“A good soldier follows orders,” Crosshair said. It felt like someone else’s words, but he didn’t remember where he’d heard it.

“Yeah, well, the best mercs often make the shittiest soldiers,” Bane said, and stood up with a pained groan. “Sit here and stay awake. Ya got a concussion and I ain’t lugging a comatose kid back to Jango.”

Crosshair’s heart sank. “You’re sending me back?”

“In a couple of days when you’re healed proper.” Bane raised an eyebrow. “I’d say taking out Skatter’s Ferocious Fourteen is about as good a test score as any. After tonight you’re ready for anythin’ Pynk throws at ya.”

Crosshair felt his heart twist in confusion. He missed Tech every day he was gone. He missed Wrecker and Hunter too, but…

...he missed his twin the most.

“Okay.”

Bane looked at Crosshair for a long time, brow furrowed, but not angrily. It was the kind of thoughtful look he had on Kamino when he talked to Jango about Crosshair’s future.

“Sit tight. Watch a holo. Don’t fall asleep. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

“Bane?” Crosshair asked as Bane started to walk away.

Can I be a merc?

Can Tech be a merc?

Can I bring my brothers with me and we can all be mercs? And not soldiers? And live by our guts and not by what Lt. Pynk says?

“Yeah, kiddo?” Bane asked, toothpick moving lazily in his teeth. 

Would my brothers come with me if I asked them?

Crosshair already knew the answer.

He sank back into the couch.

“Thanks for training me.”

“I just did it for the credits, kiddo,” Bane said, tilting his head up and giving Crosshair a wink.

Crosshair rolled his eyes with a grin, then snuggled under the blanket and turned on the holoprojector.

He watched the entire Duros with No Name series before he was finally allowed to sleep.