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joshsindigostreak · 1 month

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Moonburn

Chapter One

Nine of Swords, Upright: sleepless nights, worry and anxiety.

Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC

Authors Note: Hey y’all!! I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter in Jake’s story! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! If you need to catch up on the Prologue, do so here.

*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Not very many just some swearing.

Description: When a young affluent hunter finds himself taking an unexpected detour in Tucson, Arizona, he finds himself drawn to a local dive bar with a rather ecclectic clientele, situated on an equally intriguing location adjacent to a cemetery. Cemeteries are neutral ground, so even if he found a Vampire to snuff out, he couldn’t. Especially with the owner of the bar being a Witch and watching him like a hawk.

Jake’s dreams were always distinctly under two categories: either he’d find his dream self walking down an empty city street, head on a swivel for any Vampiric activity, trailing one he had found earlier that kept evading him. Or, he’d wake up in his childhood bedroom, realize that he was seven years old again, hearing footsteps in the hallway growing closer.

His mind would not let go of the night that Vampire broke in and found the twins’ room first on the upper floor. The Vampire’s appearance had morphed over the years, steadily gaining more grotesque. But the feeling of its mangled and dirty fingers tangling in his hair and violently pulling upwards, sending white hot pain into the boys’ scalp as his feet lifted off the ground, was always the same.

This night was no exception, and unfortunately for the young hunter it was the latter scenario.

A distant creak of the hardwood floors down the hallway always startles him awake. His large and curious brown eyes would always pop open at the sound, and he’d strain his ears to try to figure out who was walking towards his shared room with Josh. It couldn’t have been his little brother Sam; he was too light to make the floorboards move like that. Josh was snoring above him, oblivious to everything, so that ruled out him. Maybe his parents? But he could hear the heavy thuds of shoes as the sound got closer, and why would his parents have their shoes on in the middle of the night? The realization that it was someone else in the house besides his family made his blood run cold and had him pulling his covers up to his chin as he tried to make himself as small as possible on the bottom bunk.

A few agonizing minutes later, the footsteps were right outside his door, and his younger self was stiff as a board, bracing himself for whomever would enter. Sure enough, the doorknob would slowly twist and a stream of light from the hallway would stream in as the door opened. All he saw before he screwed his eyes shut was a large, intimidating silhouette peering into his room. Jake tried to keep his breathing even, not wanting to give it away that he was awake. The intruder made his way into their room, kicking a few toys out of the way in the process. He could feel their presence near his bed, and it took everything in him to not flinch at the putrid breath that was being exhaled into his face.

But Jake was a frightened child, and his instinct was to get to his brother as quickly as possible. When the creature whispered, “jackpot…” his eyes shot open and he opened his mouth to yell for his twin, all while trying to scramble down his bed and make it to the ladder leading up to Josh’s bunk. His tiny hand had just reached one of the bottom bars when the all too familiar sensation of fingers in his hair and being yanked backwards and upwards rattled his system. Distantly he would hear his brother startle awake and barely touching the ladder as he flew down to come to his rescue.

The creature paid Josh no mind while he lifted up the younger boy to his eye level, his mouth twisting into a sadistic smile and revealing the long jagged fangs that extended from his gums.

A Vampire had somehow broken into their extensively guarded house.

Jake kicked and squirmed midair, trying to get the Vampire to drop him, but it was no use. The creature stared into his eyes, hunger clearly on his mind. The young boy couldn’t take it anymore and as he clawed at the Vampire’s wrist he took a deep breath and released a shrill, high pitched shriek that rattled the-

The now adult Jake shot up in bed, silver knife white knuckled in his fist. Through his own personal training, he had taught himself how to sleep with his hand curled around a knife under his pillow, and not letting go of it until he was awake.

His skin was damp and clammy, feeling especially chilled from the ceiling fan spinning above. In spite of this sweat gathered on his hairline, threatening to spill down his face. His eyes darted around the room for any threats, as if he was ready to face off with the Vampire from his memory. But the hunter was alone in the tiny motel room, and when he deduced this he rolled out of bed, still holding the knife. He padded over to the sink in the miniscule kitchenette and poured a glass of water from the sink. He gulped it down but it took two more glasses to finally get some relief in his dry throat.

After setting the glass down and abandoning it next to the sink he went around the room to check his security measures. His crossbow lay still on the other side of the bed, with a wooden arrow locked and loaded, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. With Josh off doing whatever it was he was doing, the weapon was the closest thing he had to a partner in crime.

The solitary window was covered by curtains, and Jake carefully pulled back one of the panels to look out onto the parking lot. The sun was freshly risen, giving him solace in the fact that his ultimate threats were locked inside and away from the light. Sunrises had always been Jake’s favorite for this reason. His shoulders relaxed as he opened the curtains as far as he could, letting in as much natural light as possible. Now that he was awake and definitely not going back to sleep any time soon, he turned his attention to getting a shower and washing off nightmares as best he could.

~!~

It had been over four days now, and Jake still could not get his night at The Tipsy Tumbleweed out of his head. He went to other bars around town to kill time, but all of them were so basic to him. They were too loud, or the drinks sucked, or the TV’s weren’t on anything interesting, or the bartenders would try way too hard to flirt with him for better tips. He wanted to go back, he wanted to see her, he wanted to at least get her name.

But Jake was full of an unfamiliar feeling of intimidation he wasn’t used to. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked into a situation where he wasn’t the top dog, even when surrounded by Damned corpses who were decades older than him. His exposure to other supernatural creatures was limited. Growing up the focus was so heavily on Vampire’s that he rarely took the time to learn much about others. He usually just relied on Sam to info dump about whatever creature he was obsessed with that month and he’d tuck any useful information into the back of his mind and kept on moving.

Sam’s best friend happened to be a Werewolf, which was a secret that all three Kiszka boys kept to themselves out of respect for Danny, who always seemed like a good kid regardless of his DNA. The twins were just glad that their little brother had finally made a true friend, which was something they always worried about given Sam’s nerdy and introverted nature. The change in Sam after that first summer with Danny was like night and day, and his confidence and ego hadn’t stopped growing since. It was a gift and a curse, Josh would say in exasperation.

Witches however? Jake hadn’t truly met one in person before. He knew of them, and had gotten a few lectures on how to watch out for them. His mother in particular emphasized that they were simply untrustworthy and never expounded beyond that. Once again his brother would fill in the blanks sometimes. He mentioned a few who had gone to his university but he wasn’t particularly close to them. That hadn’t stopped Josh from making cracks about Sam going to Hogwarts whenever he got the chance, or asking if he had any classes with Hermione. This usually resulted in the nearest object thrown in the oldest sibling's direction.

The most Jake knew about them was that they were definitely not human, and most had innate abilities that were passed down via genetics. Covens were a thing but not a requirement, and most were very secretive as to what they got up to. One thing Jake would never openly admit is when he was out of his depth on something, but he couldn’t just accept defeat like this and twiddle his thumbs until he could get out of town.

Which was why he was sitting in the parking lot of The Tipsy Tumbleweed, staring at the entrance from the drivers side of his shitty rental. He mulled over the vague threat she had given him days prior. She didn’t say he couldn’t come back…just that he couldn’t come back and pull any shit. He could do that. He could just walk in, sit down and be good. He could potentially apologize.

The hunter repeated these affirmations to himself as he walked inside, immediately greeted by the familiar music, the glow of the various neon signs, and the scowl of the owner of the bar he was standing in.

She was behind the bar, writing something in a notebook of hers on the bar top when those big hazel eyes looked up and locked onto him. It took a conscious effort on Jake’s part to not trip over his own feet under her gaze.

He settled on the bar stool directly in front of her without a word, and the two stared at each other wondering who would flinch first. Her hazel irises were all he could focus on, and he took the opportunity to map out the different ways the green blended into light brown.

“Are you going to behave tonight?”

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

Her right eyebrow slowly raised, “not in my bar there isn’t.”

The hunter nodded at the Witch, falling back into silence.

She reached to her left and brought a low ball glass in front of her on the bar and her other hand grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured about two fingers worth into the glass. It was the same order from that first night, this time untampered with.

“We’re going to try this again, but if you even look at Lou for too long I’ll physically toss you out myself.”

The hunter's eyes swiveled slightly to the right, his peripheral catching sight of the Vampire who was focused on the TV. Jake quickly snapped his eyes back to the bar owner’s,

“Got it,” he replied in an obedient tone that he rarely spoke in.

She nodded and replied, “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some regulars to greet.”

The Witch turned on her heel and walked out from around the bar, passing behind Jake and making her way to one of the two-top tables towards the front of the bar. As she passed, a sweet yet earthy scent wafted around him. Was that her perfume? He pondered. Or was that just her?

He racked his brain as he tore his eyes away from the swing of her hips and turned back to his glass. Whiskey was always his go-to at bars, because no one could truly fuck it up, but in truth, he was a Pinot Noir guy. It started when he was a teenager and the only alcohol he could get his hands on was the wine in the basement. His parents collected bottles from their travels and had so many at this point that they never actually drank that Jake sneaking a bottle or two every so often went unnoticed. He quickly figured out what he liked so by the time he was actually of age it became his private staple.

Jake continued to fire off questions in his head as he outwardly minded his own business.

He was brought back to reality when a familiar young voice answered, “her name is Cecilia, by the way.”

Jake looked up and saw the young bartender named Stacey standing in front of him.

“How did you-”

Her eyes went wide once again, just like that first night, “oh shit I’m so sorry! Sometimes it's hard to differentiate people’s inner voices from their outer voices and it sounds like someone asked me something out loud and-”

Jake raised his hands slightly off the bar, palms facing outwards to show he wasn’t mad, “hey, you didn’t do anything wrong it’s ok.”

Her face relaxed slightly, but she was still clearly embarrassed, “Cecilia’s been helping me get better at it but I still fuck up some times.”

Jake looked at her with warm eyes, “I’m assuming that you heard me thinking about him,” he cocked his head in Lou’s direction, “and went off and told her the other night?”

She looked down at the bar top and fiddled with her fingers, “yeah…we’ve just never had any trouble in here before and Lou is just really special to us and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.”

Stacey kept her voice low, as to not let Lou hear her saying that he was special to her. However, it didn’t work and the Vampire kept facing the TV and he suppressed a small smile while his face turned pink.

“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I'm not going to mess with him.”

“I guess that truth serum worked,” she looked up, trying not to smile.

Now it was Jake’s turn to look embarrassed, “yeah…yeah it did.”

“Well she’s still letting you sit here so she can’t be too mad still.”

“I’m on thin ice but I promise I’m just here cause I like the place, that's all.”

Stacey looked down and saw that Jake’s glass was empty, “do you want another drink?”

Jake looked down at the glass, but decided to do something different tonight, “do you have a good Pinot here?”

She looked at him blankly, “wine?”

“Yes…”

“Umm…I think we have a few bottles in the back.” She turned and disappeared behind the Employee door.

Jake sat there softly tapping his thumbs on the edge of the bar, inwardly hating that he was making a fuss over something as arbitrary as a drink. It was another reason why he always fell back on his “usual.” He hated being “that guy” in situations.

After a few minutes the young bartender busted through the Employee door and nearly jogged over to Jake’s spot at the bar. It was clear she wasn’t used to using a corkscrew, but after cussing a little under her breath the cork popped from the bottle. She threw Jake a triumphant smile as she poured him a glass.

“Thank you, Stacey,” he said warmly.

“Any time,” she replied before leaving the bar area to ask if anyone else needed refills or new drinks around the bar.

He studied the glass closely, grasping it by the stem and tilting it to the side and then back again to see what kind of legs it had before bringing it to his nose to see what flavors he could pick up. The alcohol itself was pretty strong, but he had had worse. It was medium bodied, with tannins that weren’t too overpowering due to the bright acidity from the-

“Are you detecting the grapes?”

A silky voice startled him and his eyes left the glass to look in front of him. It was Cecilia. His face reddened slightly, again, but her face broke into a smile as she wrote some figures down in the notebook she had placed on the bar.

“Oh umm-”

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” her smile stayed fixed on her face and Jake felt his shoulders relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense they had been. “You’re the first customer to order any of the wine we have, by the way.”

“I imagine people aren’t really thirsty for wine right off the highway,” the hunter said as he took his first sip. Oh, that’s not too bad, he thought, surprised at the texture and flavor of the wine.

The Witch nodded, “yeah people are more interested in their usual beers or liquor. You know the whole, ‘candy is dandy but liquor is quicker’ mentality.”

The corners of Jake’s mouth almost turned into a smile, “my brother likes to say that a lot.”

Cecilia’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, “you have a brother?”

Jake nodded, “three, actually. Two are biologically siblings and the other one we all kind of adopted over the years. He’s a good kid.”

She smiled, “oh that’s nice. Are they all hunters too?”

“Only one of them is; Josh.”

“Is he older or-?”

Jake grimaced slightly, “well…older…by five minutes. The other two are younger than me.”

Her lips formed an O, “so you’re a middle child? I can see that with you.”

Had it been anyone else, Jake would’ve gotten offended by that, but he let it slide for Cecilia.

“Only technically.”

“I can’t relate, I just have a little sister, Astrid. Or Ass-strid as I called her growing up.”

At this point they were both smiling softly at each other.

“What’s she like?” Jake asked before taking another sip of wine.

The Witch started to roll her eyes but stopped, “oh she’s the picture perfect Witch my mother always wanted, except that neither one of us inherited Moms psychic abilities. Astrid can enter people’s dreams, which was so fun growing up.” This time Cecilia let herself complete the eyeroll.

Jake’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the question clear in his expression.

“As for me, I do this…,” her eyes swiveled down towards Lou, who was once again minding his own business. His usual glass sat idly as he paid attention to the commercial on the TV, and immediately slid down the bar towards the Witch like a hockey puck, directly into her curled hand.

Lou was unimpressed and let out a short, “hey,” towards her and she sent the glass back, not spilling a drop.

Jake had never seen a telekinetic in person before, and sat there dumbfounded.

“Wow…” was all he could say.

She shrugged, “I can also read Tarot pretty well.”

Something inside the hunter was very interested in it all. Witches were something that weren’t brought up a lot, and when they were it was never in a positive light. He was mainly taught to focus on the Undead more than any other creature.

“...and your mom?”

Cecilia leaned in towards the hunter, closer than she had been before and whispered, “my mom talks to dead people.”

Jake blinked at her.

“She heads a Necromancy coven in Northern California where I grew up,” the Witch leaned back towards her side of the bar, “it's not as exciting as you think.”

He wanted to ask more questions, but the way Cecilia’s expression soured at the mention of her mother gave him enough of a hint to drop that part of the subject.

“How did you end up in Arizona?”

This time, her eyes softened wistfully, “my dad was from here.”

The word ‘was’ stuck out to him.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

The two stared at each other, allowing the silence to wash over them. Jake swallowed the last of his wine, and before he could open his mouth another question was thrown his way.

“I just realized I am a terrible bar owner and have been talking to you this whole time without getting your actual name?”

Jake smirked, his eyes staring into hers, and slowly extended his hand over the bar, “Jake Kiszka, hunter of the Undead and at your service.”

The Witch held out her hand and wrapped it around his to shake. The warmth of his skin rippled up her own arm, over her shoulder and down her back, settling at the base of her spine

“I hope you don’t tell your baristas that,” she retorted with a crinkle in her nose, “Cecilia Addington, bar owner with First Born Daughter problems.”

Jake never wanted to let go of her hand. The firm grip of her fingers and the softness of her skin had his head spinning.

He wanted to know if all of her skin was just as soft.

Reluctantly, they both dropped their hands at the same time each taking a second to flex their hands under the bar out of each other's sight.

Jake was the one to speak first, “so how does-“

“No more questions until you buy another drink, Jake.”

The butterflies from sixth grade swarmed in his gut at the sound of her saying his name.

She turned her head and gave Stacey a Look and a nod towards the hunter, before giving Jake one last smile before slinking around the bar to greet a few patrons that had just walked through the door. Jake watched her the whole time, listening to the volume of her voice and appreciating the fact that she was a hugger just like he was. Fuck.

It was going to be a long night.

To be continued….

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#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #Jake gvf #jake kiszka x oc #vampire hunter fic #witch!oc #hurt/comfort #he falls first #star crossed lovers but they don’t know it #healing journey #past trauma mention

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go-river-flows · 1 year

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The Lone Hunter

Summary: After telling the children more of the story from earlier in the day, the children want to hear the last of the story. So much so that they get a suprise visitor. Featuring Tsu'tey, who is not dead after avatar 1.

FINAL PART

<–Previous Chapter

That evening after Jake and the family had finished their meal, constantly bombarded by all the questions about the lone hunter, Jake finally relented. Letting the children know that he’ll tell the final part before bed time.

“Tell us the rest of the story!” Neteyam tugged on his father’s loincloth.

“Okay, settle down everyone,” Jake sat his family in a circle, Neytiri and Tuk on his right. Kiri, Lo’ak and Neteyam shuffled closer.

After Jake told Grace and Norm the story of the possible origin of the lone hunter, Grace became slightly concerned for the lone na’vi. The politics of the na’vi culture wasn't unheard of, such as arranged mating. But this was the first time that the two scientists were troubled by the story.

“We’ll go talk to her tomorrow, you can come if you want,” Grace offered to Jake, who only looked at Grace and Norm with genuine fear. The idea of meeting a thanator after being chased twice, gave him ptsd.

“Don't worry, the thanator is actually friendly. But…Im not so sure about–”

“Just come along. If you feel uncomfortable, you can just leave,” Grace cut Norm off.

“That's true,” Norm yawned, wanting to go to bed.

“Okay, okay,” Jake grumbled.

The very next morning, Jake met up with Grace and Norm’s avatar half-way between Hometree and the spring. His nose instantly catching the scent of a thanator, that was on the two. They trekked the seven miles on foot arriving to the same spring and waterfall. After looking around for a moment, they realised that the lone na’vi wasn't around.

“We’ll wait for five minutes, see if she will show up,” they sat on a fallen log.

They waited for five minutes. Then ten. Thirty minutes had passed and Norm was getting restless, so he called out to the thanator, Hona. Smacking his lips loudly, making a Pah Pah sound, hoping that the thanator was nearby. An hour had passed and the lone na’vi and her thanator had not arrived.

“Maybe, they’re hunting?” Norm questioned.

“Possibly.”

“Or, they’re not in the area.”

“Gee, you think?” Grace sarcastically replied. Norm’s expression faltered.

They would return to the spring the next day, and the next, but Jake had to return to his training with Neytiri. So day after day, when Grace and Norm weren't collecting samples for research would return to the spring. Eventually they came to the conclusion that the lone na’vi had moved on. Even the scent of the thanator faded, their protection, undone.

Months passed, and when Grace and Norm were invited back into the Omatikaya clan, where they were greeted with both warmth and trepidation. They went back to their research and teaching the young na’vi. When finally, Jake confessed that he was sent by Quaritch. But he also confessed that he had fallen in love with Hometree, the people, the culture, and Neytiri. He couldn't convince them to leave Hometree. He would betray the sky people.

And when the day that the sky people struck Hometree, was when a war was declared. When Eytukan died. Tsu’tey taking his place as Olo’eyktan. And when Jake became Toruk Makto. Grace unfortunaetly died. They gathered troops, warriors from neighbouring clans to help fight in the war, setting up their camp near the Tree of Souls.

The night before the war, a scout found tracks. Tracks of a thanator and warned the other na’vi of a predator nearby. More scouts gathered at the edge of the camp, spreading themselves out but they didn't see anything. For hours they kept watch, sometimes catching distant footsteps of a thanator in the shrubbery, but it didn't approach the scouts.

The very next day was the day of attack. The na’vi and the sky people, fighting within the Hallelujah Mountains. It rained bullets and arrows, and when the sky people wanted to destroy the Tree of Souls with big explosives. Tsu’tey swooped in!

“Uncle Tsu’tey! Yay!” Neteyam excitedly screeched.

“Go Uncle Tsu’tey!” Kiri joined in.

“Yayayayay!!” Lo’ak piped up.

“Mawey, mawey. Let me continue,” Jake calmed them down.

He shot two arrows at the sky people, swinging his bow at another. But oh no! He was shot with sky people weapons.

“Nooooo!” the kids yelled out. Jake dramatically fell, rolling his eyes as Neytiri laughed at his acting. Jake sat up chuckling, but continued…

Tsu’tey began falling from the sky. Down into the jungle below–

“And survived!!!” Tsu’tey jumping into their family nest laughing heartily, scaring the whole family. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri tackled their uncle to the floor of the nest, Neteyam lightly punched his uncle with his tiny fists, as Kiri and Lo’ak tugged at their uncle’s arms. After calming down, kiri finally asked.

“But how did you survive? Surely you would have died from the fall,” she cocked her head to the side, as they remained on the floor.

“Oh, but I didn't,” Tsu’tey looked to Jake, as if asking permission to continue,

“How about I finish the story?”

The children looked at each other before nodding their heads.

(Tsu’tey POV)

I was falling, my body felt very heavy from being wounded. I thought I was going to die when I collided to the ground, but in my haste, I managed to slow down my fall using the large leaves, but still it was very painful when I landed on the ground below. Unable to move, and finding it hard to breathe the sound of sky people machines came closer. There was no other na’vi around, either dead or have pushed forward so I couldn't call for help, when a metal suit came closer, there was a demon inside. In that moment an atokirina floated down. As the demon came closer so did the seed of the great tree.

The demon in the metal beast pulled me up from my braid, it was very painful and I couldn't do anything, when all of a sudden I could smell in the air, a palulukan. Still staring at the demon, I could see the reflection of the beast racing toward us and on top of it was a na’vi. Painted with the colours of the surroundings, she held tightly in her hand a bow and arrow. She let go. And it struck the demon in the chest. The demon let go of my braid and I fell back onto the ground, the palulukan lept over me and attacked the metal machine with full force. The na’vi and her beast roaring out the most fearsome war cry. Smashing the glass as the na’vi pulled the arrow out with her strength, she fired the same bow at the demon again killing it.

When she was done with her kill, she disconnected her queue, sliding off her palulukan and rushed to my side. The Palulukan Makto pulled to sit me up and bandadged my back before laying me back down, I felt like I was going to pass out but then I heard her gently hum. She took out salve from her pouch applying a paste to my wounds then brought out a needle, there and then she fixed me up, the song she sang sounded so sweet and kind. I could hear her palulukan prowling around beside up attacking stray sky demons, but she continued her song to distract me. I could feel my eyes close just as a cloud of atokirina floated down. As if Eywa herself had come to intervene.

I thought I died, but I was woken by na’vi surrounding me. They slowly leaned me against a log as Neytiri and Jake arrived. But I lost consiousness again. But later I would wake up in the healing tent. Neytiri was by my side as the healers checked my wounds. I asked her where the female na’vi was, the one who saved me. The Palulukan Makto? Neytiri only looked at me confused.

She told me, “Our warriors found you, you were alone. You were wounded and someone had patched you up. We asked around, but everyone there denied it. Said that they just found you like that.”

Days, then weeks flew by. My injuries healed, but the pain was still there. I could not lead the people when I was still weak. So I passed on my role of Olo’eyktan to Jake Sully, our Toruk Makto. He moved the clan somewher safe, near a spring, with a waterfall in the middle of the jungle. Fifteen miles away from where Hometree once stood. It was beautiful, like a….a…iknimaya?

Heaven.

One day I decided to go on a walk to the waterfall, and Jake came with me for some reason. As we reached the treeline, an atokirina floated down. Drifting to the bank of the spring landing in a spot of the dirt. We both looked down as it rested on a paw print, a palulukan. When my ear caught a sound, it was near and when we turned to look, there in the distance poking through the tall bush was the face of a palulukan, but it didn't charge at us. Just sniffed the air and disapeared into the bush.

“Was it the lone hunter? Did you see the lone hunter?” Neteyam questioned.

“We didn't see anyone, Or I don't think we did?” Jake answered.

That night, two hunters were going to catch a sturmbeest for communal dinner. But as they came to the edge of the village, they found carcasses of two sturmbeests, with a pile of leaf wrapped meat, and even puffballs, utumauti (banana fruit), fyìpmaut (squid fruit), tumpasuk (cannonball fruit) and kllpxiwll (lionberry). A meal for the village. So that no one is hungry. The two hunters brought everything to Mo’at showing them all they’ve brought, told her how it was just out in the open, next to the village. And when Mo’at learnt of this, she took off in that direction, the two hunters following behind her. Many hours passed. Everyone gathered that night, except for Mo’at who had yet to return. The two hunters came back just before the meal began.

Neytiri who was looking for her mother, questioned them and was only told.

“It seems that Mo’at has found our provider,” as they gestured to the pot on the fire and pile of fruits. Mo’at would return at that moment, riding on the back of a palulukan with a female na’vi sat behind her. The Palulukan Makto. Everyone was startled by the presence of the beast but it did not growl, it did not intimidate.

And as Mo’at climbed off the beast, she announced to everyone, “This is your Palulukan Makto! Your provider! Your protector! An Omatikayan! Treat her as your sister!” Mo’at would greet her with formality, “Oel ngati kameie, child”. Everyone greeted her with formality. She returned the greeting to us as she came closer into the light.

“Oel ngati kameie. I see you all.”

“Wow!” Neteyam, Kiri and Lo’ak clapped in awe.

“So the lone hunter is in the village now?” Kiri’s little voice asked, yawning.

“Oh yes, little Kiri. She is here watching over us, she will always be looking over us. Much like your father, our Toruk Makto,” Tsu’tey’s voice sure and righteous. Jake cringed a little at his title, his wife already sleeping with her head resting on his shoulder. Lo’ak had fallen asleep beside his uncle, still holding his arm.

“Wow. Have we met her before?” Neteyam questioned his uncle, “Even in passing?” To which Tsu’tey smiled, nodding. A comfortable silence fallen on them.

“Do we know her?” Kiri pressed further, unsatisfied with her uncle’s silent nod. Tsu’tey nodded again.

“Well who is it?” the kids impatientness made Tsu’tey chuckled.

“Tell us. Tell us. Please?” Neteyam pressed his palms together, begging to know.

“It’s–”

“Ma yawntu,” a voice called from below the Sully’s nest. What impeccable timing, Tsu’tey thought to himself, looking at Jake who gave him a wide smile, barked out a loud laugh, catching himself he slapped his hand over his mouth as not to wake his wife and two sleeping children. His children looked at their father with confused expressions.

“Okay kids, story’s over. Time for bed,” Jake stifled a laugh calling for his two oldest. As the children groaned out, they lazily crawled to their parents, Tsu’tey picked up Lo’ak and gently handed the child to his father. Giving Jake a crooked smile as the children yawned. “Good night, brother Jake,” Tsu’tey took his leave climbing down from the tree.

___________________________________________________________

BONUS!!!

“Ma Yawne,” Tsu’tey greeted his wife at the base of the Sully’s nest.

“Ma Tsu’tey, why are you still up? You should be resting,” his mate poked his shoulder. But Tsu’tey could only look at his mate with nothing but endearment, bringing her closer to him, he rested his forehead on hers. They stood like that for a moment when a palulukan nudged his and his wife’s elbow. Purring at them. Tsu’tey pulled away and gave the big cat a rub on it's head.

“Ma Hona is going to give birth soon,” Tsu’tey’s mate rested her head on his shoulder.

“As will you my dear,” he placed a hand on her pregnant belly, giving a quick kiss on her cheek. “Come, let us return home.” Tsu’tey rested his hand on her back, guiding her back to their nest.

“So, what were you doing just now?”

“Oh, telling a story to the children,” Tsu’tey explained.

“What was the story about?”

“The Lone Hunter.”

____________________________

END

<–Previous Chapter

Taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @kenzi-woycehoski @ducks118 @barbecuetiddy @cumikering @oceansrose2002 @itsyagirl01 @eli-pitch-does-art @sleepilysworld @eeniemeeni

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tales-of-the-ghost-zone · 2 years

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Danny Phantom x Moon Knight

Been obsessed with the idea of the crossover between these two shows! Mostly because it’s Danny Phantom cannon that Tucker is the reincarnation of an Egyptian pharaoh!! And the crossover would come in with Tucker’s past life having being one of Khonshu’s previous avatars. Hell it could even be that Tucker was Konshu’s first ever avatar!

Like I’m just picturing a scene where the Moon Knight System and Khonshu meet team Phantom and Khonshu takes one look at Tucker and just has a stroke cause that is one of his previous avatars who died thousands of years ago wtf is he doing here alive and looking like a teenager. And if we’re going with the whole Danny is the king of the ghost zone via conquest, his next thought would be and why the hell is he hanging out with the king of the dead?!!!!

Meanwhile the whole of team Phantom can see Khonshu, Danny because he’s half ghost, Tucker because he’s a reincarnated pharaoh who was a previous avatar, Sam cause she was once given ghost like powers for a short time by Undergrowth and is now not fully human anymore, and Jazz because she’s lived in Amity Park exposed to ambient ectoplasm in the air for so long that she’s now liminal as hell!!!

Team Phantom is just staring up at this giant bird skull person in absolute confusion. And then Tucker just kind of squints at him for a moment and goes “hey I know you!” And the Moon Knight system is just standing there in the background confused as all hell, looking back and forth between this group of kids and Konshu.

#dp x mcu #dp x marvel #dp x moon knight #danny phantom #moon knight #everlasting trio #everyone that grew up in amity is liminal as hell #I imagine the moon knight system wouldn’t be able to be overshadowed #cause Konshu is an Egyptian god and he has a claim on them #and that protects them from ghost possession #vlad tries to overshadow them one time and gets yeeted #the moon daggers can harm ghosts as well #so moon knight can actually fight ghosts and help the Phantom team out on patrols #the moon knight system are absolutely horrified tho when they find out how Danny died #and that his parents are ghost hunters #who routinely shoot at him cause they don’t know he’s Phantom #they have flashbacks to their childhood #and now the moon knight system has adopted Danny #Steven has to hold Jake back from going absolutely feral on the Fenton parents #he wants to go feral on them too but he knows Danny still cares about his parents #so he’s holding himself and the other two back #though he does sass the ever loving shit out of the Fenton parents

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sanzosin · 2 months

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A damn fine catch, Jake!

#borderlands AU #JAKE KADAM #LOADY #next gen vault hunters #love hurts #jack x nisha #cuz they made this dude

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glitterxdeath · 1 month

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rainbowratsstuff · 1 month

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Redraw of the comic at the end of Tallstars Revenge because I love that book and Tallstar is one of my favorite characters ^^

#warrior cats #erin hunter warriors #warriors #wc art #warrior cats art #warrior cats designs #warrior cats redraw #redraw #comic #tallstar #talljake #tallstar x jake #warrior cats jake #jake warrior cats #jake #talltail #windclan #warrior cats comic

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natsuswagn33l · 5 months

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more Huntake

#jake disventure camp #disventure camp jake #hunter disventure camp #disventure camp all stars #disventurecampallstars #huntake #disventure camp #Jake x Hunter #hunter x jake #disventure camp fanart

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romancemedia · 1 year

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Cartoon Romances + Relieved Hug

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saiyanprincessswanie · 1 year

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SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 163-164

Welcome to Weeks 163 & 164

A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendation for fanfics. I have a lot to read now which makes me happy 💜 This list holds 65 fics. Hope you enjoy them all.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Give Me One More - (Ari x Reader) - @/saiyanprincessswanie

The Perfect Fit - (Nick x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

All Of Me - (Ari x Reader) - @flordeamatista

Don't Give Up on Me - (Andy x Reader) - @navybrat817

Andy Drabble - @sunshinebuckybarnes

Sunrise - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Begin Again Part 1 - @anonymityisfunwriter

Monkey See, Monkey Do, Chp 14 - (Colin x Reader) - @spectre-posts @what-is-your-plan-today

Special Treatment - (Brock x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty

A New Beginning - (Bucky x Reader) - @/navybrat817

Dishes with Andy… - @drabblewithfrannybarnes

Tease - (Destroyer Chris x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog

who you belong to - (Andy x Reader) - @/sunshinebuckybarnes

Thanks for the Invite - (Lloyd x Black! Reader) - @syntheticavenger

Alpha - (Lloyd x Reader) - @boxofbonesfic

Yearning For You - (Ari x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel

Dead End - (Lee x Reader) - @shadeysprings

Baby Girl - (Steve x Reader) - @wint3r-h3art

Begin Again - Part 2 - @anonymityisfunwriter

NEED A HAND? - (Bucky x Reader) - @likeahorribledream

Something New - (Bucky x Black Fem Reader x Steve) - @princessphilly

Biker Bucky - @pellucid-constellations

Gentle Soul - (Steve x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Happy Birthday - Gentle Soul - (Steve x Reader) - @/stargazingfangirl18

First Date - Gentle Soul - (Steve x Reader) - @/stargazingfangirl18

Playing The Long Game - (Cole x Reader) - @our-marvel-universe

Let Me - (Bucky x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog

Fair Play - (Nick x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog

Stalked - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

It's All In The Eyes - (Bucky x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel

Kinktober Day 13 - (Bucky x Black! Reader) - @princessphilly

As You Wish - (Steve x Reader) - @/rookthorne

| 2:48 a.m. | - (Bucky x Reader) - @sergeantxrogers

Mornin' Captain! - (Steve x Reader) - @nicoline1998enilocin

Stucky in love - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Whatever Daddy Wants - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420

Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 6 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

His Inheritance - Part 22 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

Just Right - Chp 5 - (Steve x Reader) - @darsynia

Real-Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 17 - @/wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Though I Have Never Read It - Part 4 - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

Conditioner - (Bucky x Reader) - @drabblewithfrannybarnes

A Crown of Flowers - (Bucky x Reader) - @/navybrat817

Only the two of us - (Bucky x Reader) - @barnesafterglow

Threadbare - Part 4 - (Steve x Reader) - @ronearoundblindly

Forbidden Enticement - (Stucky x Reader) - @/rookthorne

Turn The Lights Down Low - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @slyyywriting

Potentiality - (Brock x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty

Never Have I Ever… - (Jake x Reader) - @/drabblewithfrannybarnes

Still Need You - (Bucky x Reader) - @andydrysdalerogers

play with fire - (Bucky x Reader) - @onceuponastory

SWEETHEART - (Lee x Reader) - @likeahorribledream

Miss You - (Frank C. x Reader) - @wint3r-h3art

Bucky Oneshot - @/pellucid-constellations

a stranger arrives - (Bucky x Reader) - @witchywithwhiskey

Life of Pie - (Destroyer! Chris x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog

Breeding Kink Nick - (Nick x Black! Reader) - @/princessphilly

Sugary Sweet - (Bucky x Reader) - @/rookthorne

Bodyguard Brock - @/fluffyprettykitty

Unholy Errand - (Lloyd x Reader, God the Bounty Hunter) - @buckets-and-trees

For All I Do - (Lee x Reader) - @/boxofbonesfic

By the Pound - (Andy x Black!Reader) - @/syntheticavenger

Their Doll - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @/navybrat817

Their Doll - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @/navybrat817

The Shadow of Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #nick fowler x reader #andy barber x reader #brock rumlow x reader #colin shea x reader #destroyer!chris x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ari levinson x reader #lee bodecker x reader #cole turner x reader #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x reader #frank castle x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader

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blurredcolour · 1 year

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The Night Moves | Part One

The Night Moves Masterlist

Alternate Universe

supernatural!Bradley Bradshaw x Female Reader; supernatural!Jacob Seresin x Female Reader

Summary: An internship with the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History should have been the highlight of your academic career. The perfect addition to your resume while you worked on your doctoral thesis. An interdepartmental assignment, however, sees your reality ripped apart by incomprehensible forces. Five tumultuous days will leave you forever changed and inextricably linked to two men born centuries apart.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Violence, Blood, Gore, Supernatural Themes, Historical Inaccuracies, Institutional Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ Only

Author's Note: Typically I provide sanitized versions of my more violent scenes however they are rather crucial to this entire series so please heed my warnings and do not engage with this series if you are not interested in reading blood and gore. Thank you for your understanding!

Word Count: 4053

-------------------------

-Tuesday-

The sound of fallen leaves skittering across the pavement behind you would have brought a smile to your face if the card reader at the staff entrance of the National Museum of Natural History would only function properly. You had tried sliding your personnel card marked ‘intern’ through it quickly, slowly, repeatedly, and every attempt ended in two buzzes and a red-light signaling failure.

You were expected in the lab in five minutes and at this rate you were going to be late – not the impression you were hoping to make on your first inter-facility project. You took a step back and inhaled deeply, turning your head to your right to appreciate the brilliant orange leaves tipped in red barely clinging to the trees on the boulevard. The days had been unseasonably warm lately, though the arrival of a crisp north wind was heralding a change. Grounded and refreshed you approached the card reader once more and pulled your keycard forward, the lanyard around your neck taut, trying a slow, smooth slide through the slot. The resulting chirp and green light had you sighing in relief.

“Finally…” You uttered and wrenched the door open, hurrying down the stairs and through the corridor to the room number that had been provided via email. Stopping just outside, you took a moment to fill your lungs with air and smooth your lab coat before stepping inside calmly.

While you had reviewed the parameters of the assignment numerous times, nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting in that room. A catastrophic fire in a Virginia church two weeks ago had unearthed a lead-lined sarcophagus, which initial investigations had determined dated from the War of Independence. It had been delivered to the department of forensic anthropology for examination on Thursday of last week and as the initial scans of the vessel revealed there were artifacts contained within, the project had expanded to involve the National Museum of American History as well.

While your position as an intern had not garnered you an invitation to the opening of the sarcophagus, you had been fortunate enough to be assigned with the initial cataloguing of the items found within. Nonetheless you were still taken aback by the sight of a mummified corpse laid out on a wheeled exam table with the rest of the artifacts set out on other tables beside. The most striking thing of all, however, was the utter lack of damage to the artifacts one would expect from them being locked in a box with a decaying body for two-and-a-half centuries. From your vantage point they appeared aged and worn, to be sure, but otherwise very much intact.

A chill rolled through your body as you stepped further into the sterile room, and you heard a poorly smothered laugh. Turning quickly toward the sound, you spotted two forensic anthropology interns, Brett and Raj, whom you recognized from the Smithsonian-wide orientation meetings in the spring.

“It’s freezing in here to keep the smell down.” Brett, a strawberry-blond with a smattering of freckles across his nose, explained with a hint of apology in his voice. “We don’t often get remains like this…”

“With so much meat on them, he means.” Raj, with his black hair falling carelessly into his eyes, clarified.

“Ah.” You replied simply, not entirely certain how to reply to a statement like that.

“There is clothing on the remains to be catalogued but we have a few more scans to run, would you mind starting with the other items while we finish up?” Brett continued, despite the callous nature of his colleague’s words.

“Not at all, the majority of it seems to be on the tables anyway.” You nodded, gesturing to the objects that had been unpacked by people high above your pay grade.

You stepped aside as they rolled the table past you and through the doorway, murmuring their thanks as they pulled a sheet over the body respectfully. Brett’s sneakers squeaked slightly on the tile floor, the sound fading as they grew further away.

Accustomed to working with their belongings rather than the long-dead directly, you immediately found it easier to breathe as soon as you found yourself alone. You grabbed an unoccupied chair from the corner of the room, reaching down to pull the lever beneath to seat and raise it to its highest setting. Retrieving your laptop from your bag, which you left hanging on one of the racks of hooks in the corner, you set it on your makeshift workstation. You walked along the row of tables filled with items awaiting cataloguing to the furthest from the door planning on working your way back to the gap the remains would eventually return to.

Sliding on a pair of gloves from a box on the counter that ran the rear perimeter of the room, you carefully picked up a pocketknife from the exam table, turning it in your fingers slowly to search for any unique characteristics. The initials ‘J.S.’ were carved into the wooden inlay on the underside, which you quickly added under the item’s notes on your laptop.

Retrieving the digital camera from the deep pocket of your lab coat, you took several photos of the knife before repeating the process with a pile of British notes and coins, a clay pipe, a pouch of tobacco, and a small black ledger with pages of accounts that would need further study, before coming to stand in front of a British regular’s uniform jacket. A private’s rank from what you could tell at first glance. Looking back toward the door, you furrowed your brows in confusion having sworn that the corpse was wearing a South Carolinian infantryman’s jacket.

“Odd…” You murmured in puzzlement, turning back to the task at hand.

You were nearly through with the loose items on the tables when the rattling of caster wheels from the hall announced the return of Raj and Brett with their charge. They replaced the exam table to its original spot in the room, locking the wheels with a series of clacks before folding the sheet back to lay at the corpse’s feet.

“You’ve got it from here?” Raj asked halfway out the door, not waiting for an answer before he was gone.

Brett scoffed, shaking his head as he signed off for the both of them on a clipboard, setting it down on the counter beside the body before looking to you. “Don’t forget to fill out your portion of the paperwork. We’ll lock up when you’re finished.”

“Will do, thank you.” You nodded before taking a fortifying breath, reluctantly moving over to the exam table.

Your eyes immediately fell upon the blue coat with red lapels, confirming your initial glimpse. Dressed in the uniform of the South Carolina Continental Army, with the ivory breeches and tall black boots to match, the presence of the red coat in his rucksack was all the more mystifying. But the shape occupying the artifacts, though desiccated, was still undeniably human – a fact that was deeply unsettlingly.

Embarrassingly, your hands took on a slight tremble above your keyboard and despite all wisdom to the contrary you found your eyes drifting towards the deceased soldier’s face. Logic told you the twisted expression resembling pain was from the contraction of muscles as they lost their moisture, but it nonetheless evoked a sense of deep suffering. Yet despite the years spent in that metal box, silken strands of golden hair still framed his face, the longer pieces pulled back into a tight plait at the nape of his neck, barely visible from your current angle.

The only sound in the room came from the faint hum of the fluorescent lights and light-headedness washed over you as you realized you were holding your breath. Wrenching your eyes from that tortured look, your gaze ricocheted about the room for something safer to focus on before landing on the dull, mud-splattered leather of his boots. You took a breath and slowly typed the color ‘black’ before exhaling slowly and describing the worn condition of their soles. Another inhale and exhale bracketed your estimation of the shoe size.

Employing similar tactics, you worked your way up the articles of clothing, one by one. Inhaling, exhaling, typing, photographing. Given that you were not authorized to touch the remains, you had to rely on the visible angles of the clothing, crouching and stretching, craning your neck and circling the table to take in as much detail as possible. It was yet to be determined if further investigation of the remains, including cleaning of the bones, was warranted and it was entirely possible these clothes would remain on the body for reburial, so you were diligent in your work.

Well, as diligent as the oppressive feeling of ill-ease that was cloying at your senses would allow. So grateful to be finished your work, were you, that you ripped off your gloves and were almost halfway out the door when you remembered Brett’s instruction to sign off on your portion of the paperwork. Swearing under your breath you clenched your fists and forced your feet to turn back toward the body and retrieve the clipboard from the counter beside it. You hastily flipped through the pages, willfully ignoring the seemingly anguished face to your left.

The careless speed which you employed in desperation to remove yourself from that room was not without consequence; the fine edge of the top sheet of paper catching the plush edge of the pad of your index finger. You hissed at the sting as blood welled up immediately, snapping your wrist in a self-chastising movement, unaware of the scatter of droplets you sent through the air before pulling the wound between your lips to stop the bleeding. Setting the clipboard down on the countertop with a clatter, you rapidly initialled through all the sections pertaining to you before noting the time of ‘7:05 pm’ and signed out.

The day had melted through your fingers, and it was now well past the normal time you went home. Your feet carried you back up the stairs, moving just as rapidly as you had hours before, this time driven by a desire to leave that room and its corpse behind. The air outside was anything but fresh, the humidity so close to one hundred percent that moisture hung in the form of mist, thunder rumbling ominously in the distance. Yet you had never been so grateful to be outside. You eased the pace of your aching leg muscles, making your way down the street towards your regular building to hang up your lab coat, collect your things, and head home for the evening.

The tension in your shoulders eased with each step, the heaviness in your chest feeling lighter as the staff door to your usual place of work was in sight. You were nearly there when a hand fell heavily upon your shoulder, making you yelp and whirl back defensively.

“Where the hell is my body?” Raj sneered at you petulantly, the question so preposterous that you blinked up at him not fully comprehending it for several seconds.

“What are you talking about?!” You finally found the wherewithal to answer. “Right there on the exam table where I left –”

“This sort of thing might pass as humor in your building, but it is most certainly not funny, come with me.” He interrupted coldly and thrust an authoritative arm forward in a commanding gesture, leaving you no choice but to turn back toward the basement you had just escaped from. You had been so close.

Retracing your steps, with Raj’s furious form at your back, you were filled with a sense of foreboding as your keycard once again acted up. With an infuriated huff he swiped his card aggressively from behind you. Even the door bowed before his rage and promptly unlocked. He flung it open, and you flinched out of the way reflexively before darting through the opening, not wanting to fan the flames of his ire any hotter. You flogged your brain, begging it to produce a reasonable explanation for the problem he was presenting you with but all it produced was the unhelpful buzzing of fear in response to Raj’s threatening presence behind you and the memory of that tortured soldier’s face in the basement.

Yet he had spoken the truth. When you stepped into the room, the exam table was empty, the sight making your stomach fall straight through the floor. All the other artifacts remained saved the most pivotal. You turned quickly to defend yourself.

“I swear to you, I signed out at 7:05 and got the hell out of here. I couldn’t bear to spend one more minute with that body…” Your palms grew damp as you spoke, trying to focus on any possible, rational, logical explanations. There were few.

His dark eyes narrowed, looking you over, calculating for a moment before he nodded. “Well, your signature is the last on the sheet and now it’s gone. So, you’re going to help me find it. And if it wasn’t your poor taste then it most certainly had to be Brett’s. You take this corridor and I’ll take that one.” He gestured in opposite directions as he spoke, making your throat spasm anxiously.

“Are you sure, I don’t know this building very well –”

“Just get on with it, you’ve already kept me here late.” He snapped and turned, walking off in his chosen direction, leaving you to yours.

Swallowing dryly, you turned with trepidation before forcing one foot in front of the other, trying doors as you went. The majority of them turned out to be locked, your key card of no use in the face of a traditional keyhole, so you continued on further and further away from the stairwell, from Raj, from the exam room. Reaching what you assumed was the end of the building you turned the corner and felt the shock of ice water in your veins. A pair of legs, lying prone on the floor, sneakers on their feet, peered out from around the next corner in the distance.

“Brett…?” You called out hesitantly, voice cracking, as your memory summoned the image of his footwear from earlier in the day. Clearing your throat, you hastened your steps and tried again with more volume. “Brett?!”

Rounding the second corner the air was punched from your lungs as the torn flesh of his neck and the gush of blood from the wound filled your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and you would have mortified you in normal circumstances – yet these were anything but. You dropped your bag and yanked off your lab coat, viciously fighting with the sleeves as they snagged on your wrists until you finally wrenched the fabric free. Balling it up, you pressed it tightly against his neck in a pathetic attempt to staunch the bleeding and started shrieking for help.

Your voice was hoarse by the time you, at last, heard the sound of quick-paced footsteps and heaving breaths growing closer. The security guard who appeared from around the corner might as well have been a fleet of medics, for all the relief his arrival brought you. He quickly summoned an ambulance using his radio and dove in immediately to assist you in trying to stop the bleeding.

“Help is coming, Brett, hold on…” You tried to soothe the wide-eyed man, who’s mouth was gulping for air not unlike a fish out of water.

Futile gurgling sounds were coming from his throat, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips and you felt hot tears pricking at your lash line as you got a solid look at how dire his situation was.

“They’re almost here, just stay still…” You choked out, regretfully registering the splatter of blood droplets that had infiltrated the cheerful freckles across his face. “We’ve got you.” The acrid tang of panic flooded your mouth as his noises grew faint, the light in his eyes grew dim, his body grew still. “Nononono…Brett…” Your voice fractured as the tears you had been thus far keeping at bay flooded your eyes.

“He’s stopped breathing, there’s no pulse in his wrist.” You vaguely registered the voice of the guard behind you. “I’m starting CPR.”

As he began compressions there was a sickly crunch as Brett’s ribs snapped, a wave of nausea roiling through you before his body convulsed with each successive blow. All the manual beating of Brett’s heart achieved was to drive more blood from his neck wound, rapidly soaking through the wad of your lab coat and onto the institutional tiles of the floor.

Silent sobs wracked your body as you struggled to maintain pressure against the wound, the fabric in your hands quickly drenched as a flood of humanity poured down the hall. A firefighter was hauling you and your bloodstained hands out of the way, sitting you against the opposite wall beside the sweat-drenched and dazed security guard. It was not much longer before pair of paramedics arrived, all manner of life-saving tools employed on the horrifyingly motionless figure on the floor until the flurry suddenly stopped. They started pulling away.

You watched, numb, as two of the firefighters draped a sheet over Brett until one of the medics – a woman with kind eyes and an angular face with the name patch ‘Zambrano’ on her chest – was right in front of you, asking your name. You murmured it robotically before swallowing tightly.

“Is…is he…?”

“I’m so sorry. Can I give you a look over? Are you hurt at all?” She eyed the blood on your hands, and you shook your head quickly.

“It’s… it’s all… his.” You stuttered and wiped your eyes on your sleeves. “Oh god…” You whispered, looking up as several police officers crowded into the already cramped hallway.

The next few hours passed in a blur punctuated by brief moments of clarity – the medic helping you wash your hands, one of the firefighters wrapping a blanket around your shoulders when you could not stop shaking, Brett’s body being wheeled down the hallway, a series of questions from the police. It was past midnight by the time you found yourself leaving your building, forcing a half-disintegrated granola bar from the bottom of your work bag down your throat – not from hunger but because the rational side of your brain dictated you needed nourishment.

You barely registered the splash of water as you stepped off the curb onto northwest Madison Drive before frigid water seeped into your shoe. You looked down and sighed deeply as the moisture quickly dampened the fabric of your sock, lurching forward to avoid the puddle with your other foot. The Mall was eerily quiet, the only evidence of the tourists that normally occupied the space was the scattered trash in the process of being collected by a handful of sanitation workers.

The Washington Monument was illuminated a ghostly white in the distance as you came to the top of the escalators leading down to the Smithsonian Metro Station when your faculties at last returned to you; finally processing the fact that there were no trains after midnight.

“Fuck me…” You breathed and turned to trudge back to the street, shoving a hand into your jacket pocket to retrieve your phone, crying out as you crashed into the muscled bulk of a man clad in a brown suede jacket. You jerked back, feeling your centre of gravity tilt off balance as your body erupted once again into the shakes you had eventually subdued an hour ago.

“Whoa, sorry!” Came his gravelly exclamation as his hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you closer lest you fall backward down the escalators. “You alright there, sweetheart?” He asked as he guided you over to the safety of the grass, tilting his head to get a better look at you, revealing his face in the process.

You swallowed roughly taking in his kind, coffee-colored eyes, the curl of his chestnut hair, and the way his mustache caressed his upper lip. There was something soothing about his very presence – the warmth radiating from his hands on your shoulders, the hint of sandalwood in his cologne. The effect was calming, fortifying. You exhaled deeply in response to his question, the quivering in your muscles subsiding.

“I’m sorry it’s…it’s just been a day.” You shook you head at the inadequacy of your statement, watching his lips quirk up slightly in response.

“It hasn’t been day for quite some time.” He teased gently, releasing your shoulders now that you were steadier on your feet.

“Ha,” You laughed once and nodded in agreement. “You’re telling me.” Resuming your quest to pull your phone from your pocket, you finally succeeded, pulling up your rideshare app. “Missed the last train, and now…well my luck is consistent. The next available car is fifteen minutes away.” You submitted your ride request and let your hand drop to your side in defeat.

“Let me wait with you, it’s a lot quieter out here than I expected.” You eyed with warily a moment until he offered his hand to shake. “Bradley Bradshaw, pleased to meet you.”

You glanced between his face and his broad, extended palm before placing your hand in his, replying with your name as he wrapped his fingers around yours. His handshake was the right mixture of strength and confidence; not too aggressive but firm enough to raise the temperature of your skin.

“Let’s go sit on that bench at the bus stop so your driver can find you easily.” He gestured before guiding you in that direction with his hand at the small of your back.

“So, you expected it to be full of tourists out here even at midnight?” You asked, mimicking normal human conversation despite the weariness you felt all the way to your bones.

He chuckled and shrugged. “Not sure what I expected honestly, just moved here and came out to get the lay of the land.”

You sank down heavily onto the bench the instant the pair of you reached your destination and looked up at him with a tired grin. “Well, if you want to see the museums you’ll have to come when we’re open” You laughed, a thrill fluttering through your stomach as he grinned in response.

“Might just have to take you up on that.” He sat on the bench beside you, legs spread wide enough that his knee brushed against yours. “The way you said ‘we,’ I take it you work in one of them?”

“American History.” You nodded, clearing your throat as your voice still bore the aftereffects of prolonged shrieking.

He looked up at the row of buildings across the road before glancing at the same behind you, across the Mall, before mistakenly pointing at the Museum of Natural History.

“So close…” You smiled and gently guided his forearm to point at the correct building, swallowing tightly at the firmness of his arm, palpable even through the layers of his clothing.

“Aha, right next door to that one then. I was close. What do you do there?”

Unwelcome images of dead bodies and dying colleagues and lab coats soaked with blood flooded your mind and you shook your head, trying to clear it.

“It, it varies but I mostly deal with historical artifacts and do research for the permanent staff as needed.”

He nodded thoughtfully, looking up as a set of headlights illuminated the pair of you. “Your ride?”

You compared the license plate number on the car with that in the app before nodding and forcing yourself to your feet. “Hey thanks…thanks for waiting with me, you’re ok to get home?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a short walk.” He nodded reassuringly, leaning forward to open the car door for you.

Smiling weakly, you slid in, confirming your name with the driver as Bradley shut the door behind you. The car pulled away before you realized you had neglected to exchange numbers with the handsome man who had not only kept you from falling to your death, or at least grievous injury, but also waited in the dark with you until your ride showed up.

“Dammit! I just cannot win today…” You hissed, knocking your head back into the headrest in frustration.

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Read Part Two

The Night Moves Masterlist

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