#Marvel Alien Races

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

EARTH-BOUND MASSACRE IMMINENT -- THE SPACE DEMONS HAVE LANDED.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on the Dire Wraiths, space-faring demons from Wraithworld on a mission of catastrophic conquest of planet Earth, opening splash page, subsequent double splash page, and the following two pages, from "ROM" Vol. 1 #49. December, 1983. Marvel Comics.

"The wind howls in the high hollows this night, almost drowning out the hissing of the horrors that prepare to descend from the West Virginia hills. They are Dire Wraiths -- aliens -- demons from distant space driven in defeat to our shimmering planet. Their goal: conquest. Hunted here by ROM -- greatest of the spaceknights -- these sorcerous shape-shifters have determined to make their stand. And tonight, Clairton, West Virginia, ROM's adopted home -- shall share Wraithkind's revenge against the silver spaceknight!"

-- "ROM" Vol. 1 #49 (December 1983)

Story/script by Bill Mantlo

Artwork by Sal Buscema

Inks by Akin & Garvey

Colors by Ben Sean

Letters by Janice Chiang

Source: https://viewcomiconline.com/rom-49.

[indigosabyss]

Taking all my self control to not end the Young Justice x Assorted Young Marvel Heroes crossover like:

Reech Ambassador: I have an army. Kamala: We have a Hulk. Billy, calling his emperor husband: AND A BIGGER ARMY.

[necrophcge]

// something i will say... no matter the verse, you'll never see meddles make an excuse or justification for his nature. grappling with the ability to think and feel is one thing, but there are no doubts as to his design; he was ushered into the world as a killer, and a killer he'll remain

and if somone or something would take umbrage with that... well. they're welcome to try and stop him.

[syrinq]

me being obsessed with bg3 causing me to read forgotten realms lore even though i think 99.9% of it is pretty stupid because they ain't telling me why something exists outside the "oh events just happened" or "it's cool" reasonings (like the majority of rather popular fictive settings)

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Bars

Now, as you probably know, most of the time Billy is ages 8 to maybe 15 (that’s what I’ve seen anyways) and of course, his Captain Marvel form looks like an adult. So, it wouldn’t be strange for an adult to ask another adult to go to a bar with them. Which is why Billy is caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he could just say no, but after a long mission where they’d all spent like two days on an alien planet under constant heavy fire from a cute and cuddly, yet surprisingly bloodthirsty race? It’d be weird not to accept. They might suspect him for being a kid! And boy, Billy does not want that. But on the other hand, he’s not of legal drinking age.

He ends up going with them anyways. Now, all the heroes are sat at a dingy bar in Central City, out of costume, of course. Though, some of them cough Bruce cough Diana cough Arthur cough and you can’t forget Billy, still in Marvel form. (He took a page out of Supe’s book and wore glasses. He’s also for some reason wearing Hawaiian print. (He didn’t have actual adult clothes and needed to borrow from a bargain bin))

Billy thankfully found a loophole for this whole mess. That’s right, this guys gonna be sipping virgin margaritas for the rest of the night. And, he try as many flavors as he wants because you wanna know the best part? Bruce is paying for everything! If Billy could jump in joy, he would. It didn’t matter that Hal was a little obnoxious when drunk off his mind. He’s dealt with worse and it’s not like it’s all that bad. He’s kinda funnier than usual this way. He gets the spend the rest of the day with people he considers friends, that’s all that really matters.

GL: “Dude, why do you keep ordering virgins?”

Crap. What does Billy say to that? Right off the bat, Billy ignores Solomon’s first, and quite frankly, wild lie to tell.

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh uh… I… like the way they taste…?”

He’s a bad liar.

Aquaman: *drinking beer* “Try again, bud.”

Okay… It looks like he might have to listen to Solomon after all. Gosh dang it.

Marvel: “Uhm… I kinda used to maybe sort of might’ve had an addiction and had to go to AA a long time ago.” *Sips drink*

He was always better at lying when the lie was already prepared.

*Whole table goes silent*

Marvel: “Uh… I’ve been sober for a while. Like…” ‘Twelve years, Billy,’ Solomon supplied in his head. “…Twelve years.”

*Table is still silent.*

Flash: *Interrupts silence by slamming hands on table* “Dude! You cannot keep dropping Marvel Lore Bombs™️ on us like this!” (Btw this is the same universe as the Marvel Compilations post. I didn’t mean to write it like it was the same universe but I might as well connect them cause why not)

Marvel: “Whaddya mean?”

Superman: “Well, Marvel…” *scratches back of head* “You kinda have this tendency to… Gosh, how do I put this?”

Martian Manhunter: “You drop obscure information about yourself at random times.”

Wonder Woman: “Then you just go about your day like you didn’t say it in the first place. For example Cap, you can’t just tell me that at some point you were an Amazonian, you were there for my birth, and then just walk off.”

GL: “Marvel, how old are you?”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuhhhhhhh….”

Batman: “You date back to having existed before Mesopotamia. I want to know the answer to that question Marvel.” *Bat-glares Billy while sipping from his drink.*

Bruce was definitely going to add the AA thing to his quite small folder on Marvel.

The night continues on with the other members of the JL grilling Billy for more information about himself, which Solomon helps with by either supplying him with lies, or with things previous champions did. By the time the night was over, Billy never wanted to go to a bar again. He unshazamed in an alley and went home to his little place. He bee-lined to his sleeping bag and just when he was about to fall asleep, something popped into his mind:

‘Why didn’t I just say I didn’t like the way it tastes?’ That thought kept him up for a couple more hours.

[torpublishinggroup]

Devilman Crybaby meets Marvel’s Venom in Exordia, the science fiction debut of Seth Dickinson, author of The Traitor Baru Cormorant. 

Ssrin Character Illustration by Julie Dillon

WHAT’S IT ABOUT

Meet Anna Sinjari, a refugee and disaffected office worker eking an existence in New York City. Her life is about to be upended by Ssrin, an alien with eight serpent heads, no qualms with cold-blooded murder, and an appetite for turtles (yum).

The universe is governed by seven passions, seven patterns which appear again and again, across species and across time. Anna and Ssrin are bound by the last and the greatest. The cosmos itself ships their very souls. Specifically for them, that means they’ll have to outmaneuver spies, armies, and government agencies to save humanity from a diabolical alien entity, hellbent on pinioning the souls of every creature on earth.

Exordia is expansive adventure science fiction that reads like a race-against-the-clock thriller in the vein of Michael Crichton, but steeped in the irony, humor, and pain of the Internet age. An alien-human epic for those who've always rooted for the monster.

[megalony]

Vital Signs

Here is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it I had a lot of fun with this one. Please let me know your thoughts.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie asks Maddie to check in on (Y/n) when she isn't feeling well while he's at work. But when Maddie has to call an ambulance, Eddie races to the hospital to find out what's wrong with his wife.

Enjoy.

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

"Dad,"

Eddie rolled his lips together and spun on his heels, shaking the scrambled eggs from the pan onto the plates he laid out earlier. One of the few things he could manage to cook without burning.

He dropped the pan into the sink and spun on his heels, hands faffing around with a tea towel while his eyes landed on his son. The ten year old was leaning against the kitchen counter, nose scrunched up and lips pressed into a thin line rather than his usual cheesy grin or tired smile.

"What's up bud? Why aren't you dressed yet?" His voice was soft and his head tilted to the side as he looked down at his boy but he could feel his smile slipping away.

Chris was still in his pyjamas even though Eddie had woken him up for school over ten minutes ago and told him to get ready. It was his routine to get dressed before breakfast and then Eddie would take him to school on his way to work. They would be running behind schedule at this rate if Chris wasn't even ready yet.

"Mum won't come out the bathroom," Chris tilted his head to the left, looking up at the ceiling for a moment while he pointed behind him towards the hallway.

It was his routine to brush his teeth and wash his face and he always got dressed in the bathroom, but he couldn't get in there. (Y/n) had beaten him to it and now she wasn't coming out the room. The shower wasn't on, he hadn't heard her run the bath or the taps in the sink, she didn't even have music playing like she normally did.

He watched his dad's upper lip curl and his brows furrowed into a confused frown.

"Okay uh, eat breakfast while I go see if she's okay."

When he reached Chris, he patted his shoulder and turned him in the direction of the table and placed a plate down in front of him. He kissed Chris's head to shush his distaste at changing his routine before he headed out into the hall to go to the bathroom.

"Baby, you okay in there?" Eddie rapped his knuckles against the door before gingerly opening it and peeking his head around.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. Maybe (Y/n) in the bath- because he couldn't hear the shower running- losing track of time, or find her getting changed or in the middle of getting ready.

Eddie wasn't prepared to find (Y/n) on the floor. Her legs were curled awkwardly beneath her on the bath mat, her arms loosely draped over the toilet and her head practically hanging inside the toilet. Her upper body was slumped over like she had fainted but when Eddie heard her groan, he knew she was conscious.

"Oh Christ, mi amor, talk to me." He crouched down beside her, arching his knees out so he was curved around her with her between his thighs.

He was careful when he pulled (Y/n) up so he could look at her but their eyes barely met before (Y/n) turned back down and hurled into the toilet. All she could throw up was the water she had tried to sip this morning, anything she ate last night had come back up with vengeance already.

(Y/n) felt pitiful when she cried and gasped for breath, wiping her eyes on her arm but it didn't make her feel any better and she could feel more tears replacing them anyway.

(Y/n) didn't like Eddie seeing her like this, especially not when she was now going to make him late for work. This wasn't the state she wanted to be in when Eddie walked in on her in the bathroom, she didn't want to be hunched over the toilet, throwing up and looking as weak as a leaf.

Her arms could barely be lifted up in front of her, every part of her body felt sluggish and her stomach was churning but it was her chest that was the worst. It felt like nails were being hammered into her lungs that were popping and tightening and deflating in her chest.

Each breath she took was croaky and gasping and rough as if she smoked fifty a day for the last twenty years.

"Sick," She croaked with a grimace and stayed crouching over the toilet just in case she had any more bile to throw up.

She could feel Eddie's lips pressing against her bare shoulder and his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms. His hums and shushes vibrated against her skin and made her shiver and when Eddie pulled her back and let her flop against his chest, she tried to smile and look up at him. They both knew her smile did nothing to calm him down.

"I gathered that, baby. I thought you said you felt better yesterday."

(Y/n) let out a little grumble and swayed her hand from side to side. She didn't want to worry Eddie yesterday when he was at work by saying she felt crappy and lethargic. And she had felt a bit better last night and she slept all night through, but now as the sun rose it seemed to drain (Y/n) of all her energy and wellness.

Eddie sighed before he leaned his arm over to flush the toilet. He wasn't impressed to find (Y/n) had thrown everything up and he could feel her skin burning up against his touch and layered in cold sweat. Eddie could see she was going to be dehydrated and if food wasn't staying down she wouldn't have any nutrients or energy left.

When he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, he clicked his tongue. She was getting a temperature and she looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

"Okay, I think we should get you back to bed."

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Eddie's shoulder and reached a heavy hand up to cup his cheek. When he stared down at her with that dark, infectious, possessive look, (Y/n) could have melted on the spot if she didn't feel so icky and uneasy.

She found the strength to loop her arms around Eddie's neck and he took the hint, grabbing her hips to pull her up to unsteady feet.

"Come on," He murmured against the top of her head when a whine burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck. She brought her hand up to brush his jaw while he kissed the top of her head and slowly guided her out of the bathroom.

They walked in awkward tandem together, Eddie's arms bound tight around her waist and his lips attached to the side of her neck as they headed into their room.

When (Y/n) flopped to sit down on the bed, Eddie stood between her legs and cupped her face, tilting her head up so she could look up at him. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and his wet lips smoothed against her burning temple. He didn't like how unwell she looked or the dazed look in her eyes, and Eddie didn't like the thought of leaving her home alone in this state.

His hands were soft as they moved down to her arms and gently nudged her back until she was laid down on the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing one hand up and down over her hip and her waist while his other hand fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey Maddie," His lips quirked into a lopsided smile when (Y/n) tried to lift her head from the pillow but she felt like she was made of stone.

Her body was sinking into the bed that felt softer than ever and her eyes were almost closing already.

She flopped her hand around until she latched her trembling fingers around Eddie's wrist and gave a small tug. She wanted some sort of comfort and touch. And the confusion written across her face told Eddie she had no idea why he was ringing her big sister.

"You're not at work right now, are you?"

"No… why, what's wrong?" The concern was evident in his sister in law's voice. It wasn't often that Eddie rang Maddie for anything other than to ask if she was coming to a party or coming round for lunch or when something had happened.

They conversed a lot in group circles and joked around when they met up at parties or for family meals, but they didn't call or text. Whereas Eddie and Buck were messaging almost every day. They had been close before Eddie fell for (Y/n)- something Buck had been against at first, having his little sister and his best friend falling for each other.

"I know you and (Y/n) were gonna meet up this afternoon, but she's not feeling well. Any chance you could come by later, make sure she's okay for me?"

Eddie knew what (Y/n) was like. He knew if he left for work and with Chris being at school, she wouldn't look after herself properly. She didn't look well enough to get up, let alone try and get to the kitchen to make something to eat or get a drink. And Eddie didn't like the thought of leaving in case (Y/n) fainted or tripped or collapsed and no one was here to help her.

"Sure. I'll come over after I drop Jee at school and I'll stay with her for a while." Maddie's tone softened and Eddie could almost see her smiling.

She would gladly spend the day with her sister and look after her. After all, (Y/n) had been round almost every day to help Maddie with Jee when she was first born, and again when Maddie came back. She helped her sister get back on track, Maddie would do anything to repay that love and kindness.

And looking after her younger siblings when they were ill was something Maddie had done since Buck and (Y/n) were tiny. She had always given them medicine and watched movies with them, snuggled up on the sofa. They were her first patients before she became a nurse all those years ago.

And if that meant spending the day watching movies with her and trying to get her to eat and drink, then that's what Maddie would do. How could she refuse?

"Alright baby," Eddie leaned over (Y/n) and pressed a few fluttering kisses against her temple. "Maddie's gonna come over and look after you for me, but if you need me just give me a ring, okay?"

When (Y/n) nodded, Eddie pressed his finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him and he captured her lips in a kiss. Knowing Maddie was coming over made Eddie feel better because if (Y/n) needed anything or she felt worse, she would have her big sister right here to look after her.

But Eddie hated leaving her or Chris when either of them weren't well. He wanted to be here with her. Hopefully his shift would fly by and when he came home, (Y/n) might feel a bit better.

***

Every part of (Y/n)'s body felt sluggish like she was a model made of clay, slowly setting in the afternoon sun. The more she tried to move about, the less willing her legs were to keep going to the point where she was dragging her legs behind her and finding it hard to keep her eyes open.

She had dragged herself out of bed an hour after Eddie took Chris to school and forced herself to try and move about the house. She didn't want to be in bed all day and she wasn't sure when Maddie was coming round to check on her.

Maddie had been true to her word and turned up after she dropped Jee off with the promise that she was staying with her sister all day until it was time to pick Chris up from school. She had graciously offered to pick Chris up when she went to get Jee and bring him back home because she could see her sister was in no fit state to leave the house.

(Y/n) ran her hand across her face, trying to rub away the droplets of sweat gathering on her skin. She held herself up, making sure she didn't lean on the walls as she walked in case she lost the little effort she had and slid down to the floor.

She took it slow, walking down the hall back towards the living room where Maddie was just taking the empty cups towards the kitchen.

Something soft and loving crossed Maddie's face when she looked over at her sister. A lopsided smile graced her lips and she paused in front of (Y/n), reaching out to rub her shoulder.

"Fancy another drink?"

"Anything with ice… I'm melting."

Maddie nodded and walked ahead into the kitchen and after a second thought, (Y/n) moved to follow after her. Maybe being in the kitchen where the window was open might make her feel better. She was likely due to take some more painkillers too. If she sank down on the sofa she feared she would never get back up again.

She dragged her feet behind her as she headed into the kitchen, but she wrapped her right arm around her waist when her stomach gave an awful twang. It felt like a coil inside her stomach had snapped.

She wasn't sure whether she needed to rush to the toilet or hunch over and be sick. Her stomach had been twisting in agony all day and she'd suffered cramps yesterday which put her off her food.

Once she shuffled to the kitchen island, (Y/n) slumped down on one of the kitchen stools and leaned forward. She folded her arms on the counter and leaned her chin on her arm, trying to find something to focus on and look at.

She tried to watch Maddie who was flowing about the kitchen with ease, grabbing glasses and making two glasses of juice with lots of ice. And then she moved around to try and find something that (Y/n) could try to peck at, little bits of fruit might be worth trying.

"Here you go- are you okay?" Maddie set a glass down in front of (Y/n) and moved her hand to rest on her sister's shoulder.

A concerned frown pulled at Maddie's lips as she glided her hand up and down (Y/n)'s back. She didn't like the way her sister was hunched over the counter and for a moment she panicked that (Y/n) might have passed out, but she could feel her twitching and writhing. She couldn't sit still but she didn't have the energy to get up and move about either.

"Hm, just- just my stomach. Thanks," It took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to sit up straight and she felt the room spin around her before she managed to get her eyes back into focus.

A forced smile that looked more like a grimace appeared on her lips as she picked up the glass of juice and relished in the condensation clinging to her palm and coating her fingers. Ice. Just what she needed to cool her system down and try to perk herself back up again.

(Y/n) took a sip of her drink, listening to the way the ice clinked together, but she quickly set the glass down when she felt her hands beginning to shake.

She moved one arm back to her stomach and wrapped her arm around her abdomen, trying to take deep, calming breaths to make the sudden horrid feeling go away. Whatever Maddie started to say went in one ear and out the other. (Y/n) couldn't hear her anymore. She couldn't hear anything.

The tv from the living room playing an old comedy film in the background, the radio in the kitchen Maddie had turned on a while ago and forgot to turn off, Maddie's voice. All of it became silence to (Y/n). None of it got through over the static building up in her ears.

When her eyes started to blur and she couldn't see her sister properly anymore, (Y/n) tried to say her name. She tried to call out and override the panic building up in her system but all that came out was a quiet, mumbling groan.

"Oh, oh you don't look well. Let's go lay you down on the sofa, hm?" Maddie tried to reach out and curled her arm around (Y/n)'s waist to help her off the stool.

Her eyes had gone out of focus, her skin was sheened with sweat and she looked like she had suddenly seen a ghost. Sitting here might not do her much good, laying down might make her feel better and let her gather some strength and energy back.

But the moment (Y/n) got to her feet, the crippling pain in her abdomen amplified and both arms bound around her waist. She felt her weight shifting from one side to the next and she couldn't manage to move one foot in front of the other. She couldn't stop herself from falling to the floor. She didn't feel anything when her body collided with the tiled floor and her legs curled awkwardly beneath her. The way her head bashed into the floor seemed to flick a switch in (Y/n)'s brain and it kickstarted her hearing and shocked her body back into action.

Her arms tightened around her waist, pressing deeply into her abdomen to try and ward off the pain that was sending her shaking in spasms on the floor.

She couldn't stop the whimper from leaving her lips as she rubbed her burning temple against the cold floor.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), oh God. Are you with me?" Maddie crashed down to her knees and reached her hands out to carefully hold (Y/n)'s neck and tilt her head back so she could see her.

Her little sister didn't look good.

Her eyes couldn't open properly and Maddie could see her pupils rolling towards the back of her head. Sweat flushed her exposed skin and the heat was coming off of her in waves. A light tremble had set across her system, shaking her arms against her stomach and causing her legs to jitter against the floor as she writhed and tried to move.

"Shh, stay still, let me look at you." She pressed the back of her hand against (Y/n)'s temple. She had a fever. When her fingertips pushed down over (Y/n)'s pulse, she could feel each thundering beat of her heart that was going way too fast to be considered normal range. "Can you tell me what hurts?"

She brushed her thumb across (Y/n)'s cheek and tried to smile at her while her other hand fumbled in her back pocket for her phone.

(Y/n) uncurled a trembling arm from her waist and flapped her hand out until she managed to grab Maddie's wrist. She coiled her arm close to her chest and tried to move their hands towards her stomach to show her sister where the pain was coming from.

"Okay, let's get you some help."

"911, what's your emergency?"

"This is dispatcher Maddie Buckley, my sister's collapsed. She has a fever and severe stomach pains and her pulse is very fast." Maddie tried to be gentle as she brushed (Y/n)'s hair away from her face and glided her hand up and down her arm to keep her calm and soothe her. She could feel the distress radiating off of her sister and the state she was in told Maddie that something was severely wrong.

"Paramedics are five minutes away and being redirected to you. What's her name?"

"(Y/n) Diaz." She did her best to smile to try and keep (Y/n) as calm as possible while she writhed and whimpered, clearly in mass agony. But when she tilted her head down, her lips pressed together tightly and her breath got caught in her lungs. "She's starting to bleed."

She could see a patch of blood smeared into the back of (Y/n)'s leggings and around her inner thighs. It wasn't much or drastic, but even a small drop of blood was a bad indicator and signified that this was more than some sort of stomach bug or a sickness fever. And Maddie wasn't stupid, this wasn't her sister having a bad period, this was a bad sign.

"E-Eddie… I w-want Eddie," (Y/n) kept her left arm bolted tight around her lower abdomen that felt like it was on fire. But her right hand clutched onto Maddie's wrist and held so tightly her sister had no choice but to lean down to be closer.

Maddie could feel tears welling up in her eyes when she looked at the panic written across her sister's face. She bit down on her lip and nodded.

"When we get you to hospital, I'll call him and Buck to let them know to be at the hospital. I promise, it's all gonna be okay." There was no way she could call Eddie yet, not until she knew what was wrong with (Y/n) and what was causing the pain. She had to get (Y/n) to a doctor first because then she could tell Eddie what was going on rather than getting him to the hospital in a state of blind panic. She had to have some answers first.

"Hurts."

"I know, I know honey but not for long, you'll be at the hospital soon. It'll be okay."

(Y/n) felt like nodding, but she couldn't. She couldn't move her arms, thrash her legs, push up from where she was laid on the floor. She couldn't do anything. All (Y/n) could do was let tears flush her face and allow the horrid pains in her abdomen to override her senses.

What was wrong with her?

She wanted Eddie.

***

Eddie raked his fingers through his hair for what must have been the twentieth time in the last hour. He could feel loose strands scraping beneath his nails and the painful, bolting sensation in his scalp from pulling out a few hairs by mistake.

He bolted down the corridor, eyes looking every which way but ahead in the unusually empty corridor. The receptionist had sent him straight from the emergency room down here and told him to follow the signs for the X-ray department and he would find the family member that brought his wife in.

Why he was going towards X-ray he couldn't fathom. (Y/n) had been sick and burning up, she hadn't had any symptoms indicating a broken bone. Unless she had had some kind of accident or slipped and fell. Eddie hoped not. He wasn't sure what he was hoping or praying for anymore.

He twisted around the corner, skidded along the recently mopped floor and stuttered through each breath when his sister in law finally came into his sights in an empty waiting room.

"Maddie w-what happened, where is she?"

Eddie had been on a three hour call that drained him of his energy and left him without lunch. And he just climbed out the shower to have Buck practically in tears, thrusting his phone at Eddie and telling him something had happened to (Y/n).

He couldn't make much sense other than (Y/n) had collapsed and was in the emergency room awaiting test results. But by the time Eddie got down here- after finding numerous missed calls on his phone and ringing his Abuela to see if she could pick Chris up for him- (Y/n) wasn't in the emergency room anymore.

Eddie's eyes did another sweep of the waiting room and his heart jumped into his throat when he realised that yes, he had been following the signs for the X-ray department, but he had also been wrong. This wasn't the X-ray waiting room. This was the waiting area for ultrasounds.

Where was (Y/n)?

He could see Maddie looked close to crying. She had been swirling her ring around her finger which was a worry sign for her and the way she bit her lip and looked up at Eddie was another bad sign.

"She's gone for an ultrasound, I- I said I'd wait for you." Maddie got up from her seat and reached her hand out to rub Eddie's arm although she wasn't all that comforting when he realised she was trembling.

"What for? What the Hell happened?"

She hadn't known what was wrong when she called him and Buck at the station. All Eddie gathered was that (Y/n) had had her bloods taken in the emergency room for standard screenings, she had been put on a drip and she was getting assessed. What had happened, what had they found out to send her here? Was it her liver, her stomach- God forbid it be something wrong with her heart.

"Sit down."

Those words had Eddie shuddering and he violently shook his head as cold dread slithered up his throat. This couldn't be anything good.

"They ran her bloods in the ER… she's pregnant, but- but she was losing blood. They're doing an ultrasound to find out why she was in pain. Eddie," Maddie's hand moved to cover her mouth when Eddie's face fell completely.

She didn't have to say anymore for Eddie to get the silent message she was trying to convey. If (Y/n) was in pain, had been having stomach cramps and now she was bleeding, there wasn't much hope for the baby. She had to be having a miscarriage or a very bad complication.

This wasn't fair.

(Y/n) would have told him if she was pregnant or if she suspected she was. She wouldn't leave him in the dark and not tell him. He should have stayed home this morning. He should have stayed with her and looked after her and checked if she was okay. He should have examined her better and made her see a doctor this morning when she was sick.

"Where is she?"

As soon as Maddie pointed to the room, Eddie was vanishing from her sights and rushing towards the door. He made very little effort to tap his knuckles against the door before he headed inside. He didn't care if they tried to push him out and tell him this was confidential. Maddie told them she would send Eddie in when he arrived.

(Y/n) had been asking for him since they got in the ambulance. She wouldn't object if he went into the room, she would probably calm down and let them assess her properly if Eddie was finally within her sights.

"Sir, you can't-"

"No- please I'm her husband, Mr Diaz. Please tell me what's going on."

Eddie hurried past the doctor and the nurse to stand on (Y/n)'s other side when her hand feebly reached out for him and she whined his name.

As soon as he was beside her, he enveloped her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. He gently carded his left hand through her hair and leaned down to kiss her temple that was flushed and felt like he was kissing a burning flame. He didn't like the way (Y/n) was writhing and trying to push up from the bed she was laid on.

Every time the doctor pressed the sonogram down on her abdomen, (Y/n) yelped or groaned and tried to shy away, but she couldn't move very far or do very much in her state.

She managed to twist her head to the right and nudge her burning temple against Eddie's arm. She wanted to edge closer to him and get him to wrap himself around her to make her feel better, but she couldn't move far and she could barely control her voice.

"Your wife started losing blood, we're trying to see where it came from and if there's a fetal heartbeat."

Hearing those words only crushed Eddie's heart even more and he hated the way (Y/n) squirmed when the sonogram moved again. Presumably so the doctor could see where the bleed was and if it was still happening or not.

It took all of Eddie's nerves to compose himself and he had to turn away from the ultrasound to look down at (Y/n) when he watched the doctor shake his head and mutter 'no vital signs.' There was no heartbeat. It felt bittersweet. They had been trying for a baby and the first time they get a positive result is the same time they find out they've lost the baby too.

But just as the doctor clicked on the screen to zoom in, a quiet, almost silent groan left (Y/n)'s lips.

Eddie looked down at her but his stomach pulled in and his heart started beating ten times faster when (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her forehead lolled against his arm. He slid his hand from carding through her hair to cup the side of her neck to feel her pulse as the nurse hurried forward to do the same.

Her pulse was dropping.

When Eddie looked to the right towards the doctor, he saw the elder man pale significantly and both their eyes landed on the puddle of blood forming between (Y/n)'s legs. She was having another haemorrhage.

"Page for an OR. Left fallopian tube ruptured, we need this bleeding under control now."

Maddie bolted up from her seat at the sight of two nurses rushing into the room (Y/n) was in, both scurrying in with a gurney between them. But it was the sight of her sister, limp and unconscious being wheeled out of the room that sent Maddie's heart lurching down to her stomach and had her wondering if she was going to throw up.

Her eyes couldn't focus on her sister and she couldn't try and follow after her when she watched Eddie storm out of the room and smash his fist into the wall on his right. The force he used was enough to break through the plaster and leave a broken indent spotted with flecks of blood from his split knuckles.

When he did it again, hard enough to send his arm spasming and shaking, Maddie tried to hold onto his elbows and reel him away from the wall and towards her instead.

"What happened?"

Eddie could feel his chest rising and falling like someone was sitting on his diaphragm, squeezing all the air out of his body. But he couldn't feel the split knuckles on his right hand or the adrenaline that was causing him to shake like a drunkard.

"She's going for surgery. Tube ruptured."

Maddie was a nurse, she didn't need any extra information to know what Eddie was talking about, and they were both on the same page. They both understood what that meant and what kind of pregnancy (Y/n) must have had for her fallopian tube to have split and caused such a bad bleed like this.

Her hands began to shake as she tightened her hold on Eddie's elbow and reeled him closer to her so he would turn and face her.

"Both of them?" She almost dreaded to ask, and the way Eddie's upper lip curled made her stomach sink. If both tubes were removed, (Y/n) would have a hysterectomy. She wouldn't be able to have kids if they did that.

"I don't know."

***

Eddie lifted his head from his hands that had been smothering his face for the last ten minutes or so. He stopped scratching his nails into his scalp and looked over at the bed when a small sound caught his attention.

Relief and hope sparked in his eyes and he shot up from the chair, chiding himself when his legs felt numb as if he was walking on hot coals sending pins and needles up to his thighs. He got out of the chair he had been crammed in for almost an hour and switched to sit on the side of the bed instead.

Both hands reached out for (Y/n)'s hand, being careful not to dislodge the cannula in the back of her hand giving her the IV fluids and no doubt a heavy amount of morphine.

His feet began to tap and jitter up and down against the floor out of anxious habit and he rolled his lips together as he leaned forward.

Eddie had been overly anxious this last hour, waiting for (Y/n) to wake up. He didn't know what he was going to say, how he was going to explain, and he had no idea how (Y/n) was going to feel or react once she came round from the anaesthetic.

As bad as it was, Eddie had been relieved when Maddie left. It allowed him to sit and stew on his emotions by himself. He could try and gather his thoughts and control every raging storm happening inside of him and if he wanted to lash out, no one was going to see or stop him. Maddie had gone to get Jee and she practically told Eddie rather than asked, that she would pick Chris up from his Abuela and her and Chimney would have him stay with them for the night.

He was beyond grateful and he had a feeling Buck would be round there too because Eddie had dodged every one of Buck's calls. And Bobby's. And his parents. He had let slip to his Abuela that (Y/n) wasn't well and was rushed to hospital, therefore his mum hadn't stopped calling, but he didn't want to speak to anyone just yet.

He didn't know how he would explain any of it.

His lips rolled together into a thin line and he did his best to smile when (Y/n)'s hand twitched in his hold and she groaned.

Her head lolled from left to right and when her eyes finally started to blinker open, Eddie's smile widened and relaxed. He tilted forward, reaching his right hand out to cup her cheek so he could press a soft kiss to her temple.

"E- Eddie?"

"It's me, amor. How do you feel?" He pressed another soft kiss to her temple, then lathered a few to her cheek before he pulled back to hover over her.

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes that were trying hard to focus and she tried to gather her senses, but everything was foggy. She remembered being in an ambulance with Maddie. She remembered being in mass agony, and the last thing she recalled was Eddie whispering her name and squeezing her hand, just like he was now.

But she had no idea what had happened, why she was here or why she had been asleep. Did she pass out? Had they knocked her out for a procedure or a scan? How long had she been asleep?

She tried to sit forward but she took a sharp breath and sank back against the bed when a tightening sensation twinged in her stomach. Maybe lying down for now would be her best option.

Her free hand moved up and her shaking fingers dragged along her face until she could scrunch her fingers beneath the oxygen tube tucked into her nostrils. With one swift yank, she removed it from her nose and let the clear plastic tube hang loose around her neck. She didn't want that, she could breathe perfectly fine on her own.

"Do you feel sick?"

When (Y/n) shook her head, Eddie managed to smile and she could see the relief in his eyes. She watched his eyes glance across to the monitor and she knew he was watching her heartbeat. Her lips curved up into a soft smile when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, just to make sure her fever had truly gone.

"Good, you should start to feel better now, baby." His hand moved back to cup her cheek and his thumb softly glided across her skin causing shivers and blossoming nerves in his wake.

"What happened?" (Y/n) felt groggy, but her mind felt like a TV that was rebooting itself. She was slowly coming back into focus, things were slotting into place in her mind like pieces of a puzzle, but there was still a fog clouding in over her mind.

But her tepid smile started to fade when she watched Eddie's lips drop so fast she wondered if he had suffered a stroke. Something broken and frightening crossed over his eyes that darkened like the moon had replaced the sun and she felt him shudder against her.

"Baby, w-what is it?" She squeezed his hand which she pulled closer to her chest while she watched him sit up a sit straighter against her. His right hand stayed enclosed in hers but he moved his left hand to hold her hip with his fingers tapping and squeezing into her flesh every now and then.

"Amor, they, they did bloods in the ER, and then an ultrasound, you were pregnant."

"Were?" It was more of a statement than a question, and the grim nod of Eddie's head caused (Y/n) to roll her lips together. She couldn't keep her eyes on him. The implication was clear. She might have been pregnant when she was brought in, but she wasn't anymore.

(Y/n)'s free hand moved in a small, jerking motion but she fought off the urge to press her hand to her stomach. Instead, she latched her fingers around Eddie's wrist that was against her hip.

"Mi amor, you had an ectopic pregnancy." The way she furrowed her brows indicated she didn't know what that meant. "It- fuck… it's when the baby usually grows outside the womb, but you- it grew in your fallopian tube, and then it ruptured."

Fright and agony was the only thing Eddie could see swirling around in her eyes and it broke his heart. He wished this could have happened in a different way. If they had a 'typical' ectopic pregnancy, it wouldn't have caused such damage. (Y/n) might have miscarried or they would of found out at a doctor's appointment and a few medications and check ups would be all she needed to remove the pregnancy.

Fear grappled at (Y/n)'s heart when it seemed to sink in. All that pain, the fever, the bleeding, it was because her tube had split. The baby had continued to form in some way, despite no nutrients or hormones where it was and it split her tube.

"You went for surgery, but they had to remove the tube, and you lost a lot of blood."

Eddie hated the horror that overtook (Y/n)'s face and he tried not to wince when her nails punctured into his wrist and pulled him closer. She shook her head and her nose crinkled as she tried to find the words that were spinning around in her head at one hundred miles an hour.

"But I- can I still get pregnant?" She surprised herself that she managed to get the words out in one piece.

They had been wanting a family together since they got married a few months ago. This was the first time (Y/n) got pregnant and she had gone and had such an awful, unknown experience that they had to take her to surgery. She and Eddie had been waiting for the news that (Y/n) would get pregnant, but not like this. Never like this.

"They only removed one tube. As long as you recover okay and don't get any infection, you should be fine. You can still get pregnant."

Eddie had shed a few tears when the doctor told him the surgery went well. They removed the infected tube and had been lucky that the other one was still perfectly fine, the bleeding hadn't caused any problems with her tube or her womb in general. As long as (Y/n) didn't get any infection or sepsis from surgery and she healed fine, she had every chance of getting pregnant. One less tube didn't lower their chances or make it harder.

Tears coursed down (Y/n)'s face and when she moved her hand to cup the back of Eddie's neck, he got the silent message. He leaned down into her embrace and smothered his lips against hers.

She was okay, she was going to be fine. Eddie hadn't lost her, but he couldn't go through that kind of panic again. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to (Y/n), especially if he wasn't there to help her.

He didn't dare think what would of happened if Maddie hadn't been home with (Y/n) when she collapsed.

[mintymarabell]

Platonic yandere elder yautja.

An elder whose strong and powerful in status but not fertile, his seed never taking so he never had children of his own.

He would beat himself up over it all the time, thinking he was not good enough.

He’ll be on earth just wondering around aimlessly when he sees you, a teenager who was crying in the woods.

He would watch curiously, wondering what you were doing alone.

When you get up and leave after composing yourself he’ll follow after you, when you lead him to a house that has two ooman pairs having a yelling match inside he somewhat connects the dots.

He will watch over you over the months, noticing the neglect in the household. He’s so jealous, your parents barely pay you any mind or even care for you and yet he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Maybe one time you’re in your room curled up in bed trying to sleep through your parents continuous arguing when your window slowly slides open, you don’t notice until there’s a big thump and suddenly something is in your room.

You go to scream but a large hand is cupped over your mouth to quiet the sound.

When you wake up again you’re in a different room, one much bigger than your previous one the bed huge and comfortable with alien soft sheets and silk pillows.

A small tray of breakfast sat on the nightstand to your left still warm.

He won’t reveal his scary appearance to you, living as a ghost in his own home as he provided for you better than your parents ever had.

Maybe one day, after a few months of living in the strange very futuristic like house you explore, walking around the grand halls, looking into the various bedrooms, some being children others being for an adult, you simply marveled at the design.

Maybe you walk outside to see the scenery and notice the different colors of the sky, the amber atmosphere.

You wander farther from the house, towards the pristine gates and walk out of them as you look at this ‘new world’ in hopes of feeding your growing curiosity.

Maybe you venture too far, finding you had zoned out and was now in the woods with faint growling and the once twin suns now settling into a dark sky.

Your breathing hitched as you looked around frantically trying to remember where it is you came from, then suddenly something hops from the tree, it is some beast, clearly not from earth.

The beast stalking towards you as it readied itself to attack and then it lunged, you closed your eyes and waited but it never came.

Instead a loud crash could be heard as something ran into the beast, you opened your eyes and seen the beast but nothing else.

It was as if the beast was fighting its imaginary friend, though in this case enemy.

The beast had brawled with the other invisible being, at some point in the fight the beast had landed a hit, the sound of flesh tearing and electric sparks then its invisible cloak was unveiled.

You had been inching back this whole time, slowly but surely won the race right? Though as you inched back, you noticed the humanoid was beginning to slack. Noticing a healing wound on its shoulder blade being the issue of its delay.

You had decided it was clearly on your side so you picked up a size ably sharp stick. Beginning to walk back toward the fight just as the beast had pinned the your possible new friend; you stabbed it right through the throat.

The humanoid pushed off the now dead carcass, standing up slowly. This had given you a moment to look at him truly. He had four mandibles with sharp fangs on the end, along with long dread like hair that was graying. After the awkward pause he had ruffled your hair and pushed you back in the direction of the house you had stayed at.

It had been a few months, your new father now walking around with no invisible cloak. He was in short terms, protective. If you had went out he went along and never let you go far. It appeared he lived alone, in a massive home.

You could get used to it, though you hoped it wasn’t forever it’d be like this.

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 9: Cock Rings w/ Clark Kent

gonna be honest, researching cock ring porn made me question even more than usual if I am a lesbian but I do it for u all so here u go

Kinktober Masterlist

“I don’t want to know how you got this made,” Clark said once he saw it. You shrugged and then, reconsidering, nodded.

“Yeah, you won’t be able to look Bruce in the eye for a while.”

“I just…” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you even approach him with the idea? No wait, I said I didn’t want to know.”

“Hey Bruce,” you mocked. “Can I borrow some Kryptonian to make a sex toy for my really hot, really submissive alien husband?”

“Please stop talking.” You giggled at his distress and shrugged.

“Who knows? Maybe this will come in handy sooner than you think.”

You and your big mouth.

It was common for enemies to use kryptonite against Clark. Hell, it was their main go-to. But no one had ever used pink kryptonite until today. Bruce struggled to get Clark into the Watchtower medical bay, a place that rarely saw Clark in there unless he was visiting a teammate, and promptly fled before you could ask him anything other than what had knocked Superman out of the battle.

“Okay, baby,” you whispered as you pushed his hands away from your hips. Clark’s heavy, ragged breathing assured you that he was alive but the raspy undertone made your heart race in a way that was entirely different from his. He whined at your denial and you cursed under your breath. If you let him fuck you right now, he’d destroy you. Clark was good at maintaining his strength in his everyday life, including the bed, but with pink kryptonite involved, he had no inhibitions right now.

“Okay. Okay.” Your mind went back to the gag gift that was currently sitting in a lead box in your bag. Fuck. Maybe you were clairvoyant. How did you come up with this shit?

“I’m going to grab something, okay? And when I come back you better be out of that suit and on your knees like the good boy I know you can be. Right?”

Clark whined, his erection straining against his skin tight suit. You brushed your hand over it and grinned as he moaned. He reached for the collar of his suit and you left him to it. Your bag was close by, luckily, and you fished through it until you found the little box.

Turning around, you found Clark kneeling on the ground completely naked with his heavy, long cock hanging between his legs. Big, blue eyes blinked up at you and he had to be painfully hard based on the tears lining his lashes.

“This should help, baby. It’s gonna make you feel better and then I will make you feel so good.”

He whined again, a pathetic sound that made your traitorous cunt throb. Now was not the time to get horny. Not when he needed you to focus.

The kryptonite infused cock ring had been a joke. Clark and you had poked fun at the idea of using sex toys on him, but nothing could faze or restrain the Man of Steel. Until you had gotten drunk with Dinah one night and came up with a brilliant idea that Bruce reluctantly agreed to help make, solely so you could stop saying he owes you for saving his life that one time.

It came in handy now. Despite Clark being hard as hell, you were able to fit the cock ring snugly around the base of his cock. His balls hung heavy over the edge of the metal, but he shuddered in relief at the feeling.

“Does that feel better?” you cooed, stroking your hand through his soft hair. He pushed his head closer to your hand and sighed at your gentle touch. The pink kryptonite effects would wear off in about two to three hours, but the green kryptonite ensured that he wouldn’t hurt you as you helped him out.

You settled yourself onto the ground in front of him, your knees pressed against his, and reached out to grasp his veiny, thick cock in your hand. He was so big that it made your hands look tiny and you always marveled at the fact that you somehow fit him in your mouth, cunt, and ass.

His hips jerked at your touch and then he let his head fall until his forehead pressed against your shoulder. You pressed a delicate kiss to his temple and started a slow, even stroke along his dick as his hips rolled along with the drag of your touch.

“So beautiful, Clark. Once you’re not affected by the kryptonite, I’ll make sure to put this cock ring on you and tease you until you’re begging me. I could probably even spank you and leave a mark for once. Wouldn’t that be nice, right? Seeing you covered in pretty little red marks?”

Clark moaned, wonton and broken and perfect. With one hand cradling his head and the other jerking him off, you kept talking him through it.

“You’re so strong that this ring won’t stop you, but I love knowing I have more power than you right now. I love knowing you trust me to treat you well. You know that I will always take care of you, right?”

He nodded and you kissed his cheek. “That’s my good boy. Let’s see how many times we can get you to come until it wears off.”

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again. 

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing. 

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.” 

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 

If he failed, this would be it. 

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.” 

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact. 

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 

“Oh you little shit—” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.” 

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 

Once again. 

You will only have one chance. 

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

[doctorsilverhead]

please do something of Bay Optimus with the reader, but don't make them a couple, more like Optimus loves the reader but the feeling is so alien to him and he can't quite put a finger on it, specially because he think it'll be completely illogical (Shockwave moment), but despite all, still wants to be with you, like all the time, cuz you're full of kindness and compassion, and he just wants to surround himself with it. PLZ DO IT 😭

Heartstrings of Steel (Optimus Prime X Human Reader)

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, where stars twinkled like beacons of hope, a being of immense power and wisdom found himself drawn to the warmth of a human soul. Optimus Prime, the noble leader of the Autobots, had encountered countless battles and faced innumerable challenges, but nothing could have prepared him for the profound connection he felt towards you.

As he gazed upon your radiant presence, a strange sensation stirred within his spark – a yearning unlike any he had experienced before. It was a feeling so foreign, yet so captivating, that it left him in a state of bewilderment. The logical circuits of his mind struggled to comprehend the depth of this newfound emotion, for it defied the very laws of rationality that had governed his existence for eons.

Optimus Prime, a being forged from the finest alloys and imbued with the wisdom of the Primes, found himself drawn to the kindness and compassion that emanated from your very being. Your gentle spirit, untainted by the harshness of war and conflict, resonated with his own unwavering belief in the sanctity of life and the pursuit of peace.

As he observed you, he marveled at the way you carried yourself with grace and empathy, extending a hand of friendship to all who crossed your path. Your actions were a testament to the inherent goodness that resided within the human race, a quality that had often eluded his understanding in the midst of the endless battles he had fought.

Despite his vast knowledge and experience, Optimus Prime found himself at a loss to explain the profound connection he felt towards you. It was as if your very presence had ignited a spark within him, a spark that burned brighter than the stars themselves, filling him with a warmth he had never known before.

In those moments of quiet contemplation, he would ponder the depths of this newfound emotion, his processors whirring as he attempted to decipher the intricate web of feelings that had ensnared his spark. Yet, no matter how he tried to rationalize it, the truth remained elusive, a tantalizing mystery that beckoned him to explore the uncharted territories of his own existence.

To Optimus, the concept of love is as foreign as the distant stars from which he hails. His life, dedicated to the protection of all sentient beings, seldom affords him the luxury of exploring such deeply personal sentiments. Yet, in your company, he encounters an array of emotions that are as perplexing as they are profound. It is an experience akin to discovering a new spectrum of color in a world previously seen only in shades of duty and war.

Your interactions, though simple and unassuming, leave an indelible mark on Optimus's spark. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to be near you, to learn from you. The kindness and compassion you exude effortlessly are like beacons of light in his tumultuous existence. It's not just the battles won or the crises averted that begin to define his days, but the moments shared with you—moments that offer glimpses into what it means to be truly alive.

And so, Optimus Prime found himself drawn to your side, seeking solace in your company and basking in the radiance of your compassion. He yearned to surround himself with the very essence that made you who you were, for in your presence, he found a peace that transcended the boundaries of logic and reason.

Though the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, one thing remained clear – Optimus Prime's desire to remain by your side, to bask in the warmth of your kindness, and to learn the secrets of the human heart that had so profoundly touched his own. For in that moment, he understood that true strength lay not only in the might of his form but in the depth of his connection to those who embodied the virtues he held most dear.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"....CAPTAIN MAR-VELL WAS THE YOUNG CAPTAIN SLATED TO BE THE FIRST TO MAKE CONTACT WITH HUMANITY."

PIC INFO: Spotlight on a splash page featuring Silver Age Captain Marvel, a.k.a., "Mar-Vell," Kree Sentries on the rampage, and Carol Danvers upon their first encounter with the Kree warrior, from "UNIVERSE X" Vol. 1 #0. September, 2000. Marvel Comics.

Pencils by Doug Braithwaite

Inks by Bill Reinhold

Colors by Laura Depuy

Letters by Todd Klein

"The Supreme Intelligence launched a Kree mission to Earth. Captain Mar-Vell was the young captain slated to be the first to make contact with humanity. If you measure movement according to the ability to exact change in a given situation, the Earth really did stand still that day. Mar-Vell came as a spy, but found himself soon thrust into the role of hero."

-- KYLE RICHMOND, formerly Nighthawk, Earth-9997 (story/script by Jim Krueger & Alex Ross)

Source: www.zipcomic.com/universe-x-issue-0.

[dragon-chica]

Eddie Brock; Husband Material (X Reader & Facts)

Fandom: Venom/Marvel

I stand by my belief that out of Marvel Men™️, Eddie Brock would be the husband material, and here is some proof.

Though we all, (Eddie and Venom included) understand why you want to fuck the 100+ yr Foxy Grandpa with abs, prior to unlocking his monsterfucker potential, Eddie Brock was mentally and emotionally stable, which is something you can't find in magic, serum, or shiny bank accounts.

Eddie was engaged, very happily, and you know Anne would not have been down if he wasn't husband material so this is already provided evidence.

He's COMPETENT, man had a stable life, job, career, and the works before Venom started their love story, and that's just hot.

Like he thinks he's aiming high to get a shot with you but you see the whole package right there, and that's before the Bonus Offer of an alien that will turn against his whole race to love you.

Also we see him being tugged along his by tie and you know he was tie to the headboard with that, so points there. Good boy and lover (and no doubt he would be.)

He had a cat, "let" Venom have chickens, and he would be a pushover for love on the matter, he wouldn't fight having 20+ cats and you carrying in another sopping wet beast you found dumped in the alley.

If he griped at all, Venom would (not so) kindly reminded him that you still kept him when he looked like he was sitting in a wet cardboard box for days.

I believe he can cook, and he would definitely bring you breakfast in bed on days off.

Is Eddie Brock a dream in the kitchen? No, but he will make sure you both eat something for dinner and least, and on better nights in will cook and try to get you to help him, or at least sit nearby and keep him company and conversation

Would try not to wake you if you've gone to bed or fallen asleep, pro at tip toeing and sock sliding to not cause you to stir when he's still trying to finish up something before joining you.

Have you seen his lovestruck smile? pulls heartstrings, he is a good boy and loves affection.

[wolfsbanesparks]

Trick or treat! 🍬🍫🍭

Can I see a Billy saving another hero in his human form, leaving the hero confused how and why this child just saved them?

Happy Halloween!

Billy was supposed to be in Metropolis for work, a long weekend of networking and prepping for his weekly WHIZ radio show. He should have known better than to hope for a peaceful conclusion to the journalism conference--not when all of Superman's closest civilian friends worked for the Daily Planet.

In the ensuing chaos following the entrance of the Kryptonite powered attack drones, Billy was forced to duck and weave through the panicked crowd, searching desperately for a semi-private place to hide and transform into Captain Marvel, but he wasn't having much luck on that front.

One of the drones swooped into the crowd, a man's voice shouting out as he was thrown to the ground, a sharp shard of kryptonite in his shoulder. Billy raced towards him, vaguely recalling meeting him just an hour ago before the conference was set to begin.

Billy grabbed a large serving tray from one of the nearby tables, using it to smack the drone away. He may not have been strong as Billy, but smashing it repeatedly with all his strength seemed to do the trick. It sputtered and writhed on the marble floor, no longer able to fly. Billy pulled his foot back and kicked it across the room where he shuddered violently before falling still.

Billy then turned his attention to Clark Kent and the shard of kryptonite in his shoulder. He looked positively green, though that might have just been the soft glow of the alien rock or the sight of his own blood.

"Don't worry, I've got this," he said as he dropped to his knees beside the large crumple form of his fellow reporter. Without giving the man time to protest, Billy wrapped his hand in his own tie and yanked the shard out, careful not to cut himself. He shoved the shard in his pocket, silently reminding himself to turn it over to the Justice League later.

He used his tie to a temporary tourniquet to stop the bleeding before it got too bad.

Satisfied with his work, Billy took off into the chaos again, searching for anyone else that might need his help. He didn't notice the wild look in Clark Kent's face as he vanished into the crowd, nor did he see the identical one on Superman's face when Captain Marvel showed up to help round up the last of the drones.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader receives Carols nudes accidentally

Authors note: First time writing Carol, so hopefully I do her justice

Word count: 628

Marvel Masterlist How To React To Masterlist

   Carol had finally been convinced, by both you and Kamala, to upgrade her way of communication. Talking through her ship's comms system was tedious at times, and pagers were for emergencies only, so she needed something better. Something more universal and portable. Which is how she ended up with the smartphone she now has.

   She has to admit, it's much nicer than a pager. And it makes communication a breeze now. Not to mention everything else it's capable of. She's very thankful Kamala had put in everyone's numbers for her, and that you had helped walk her through setting it up. Without the two of you, she's sure that all this time later she’d still be staring at the blank screen that had greeted her when she first opened the box.

   She's currently scrolling through her messages, looking for your conversation specifically, and she smiles once she finds it. She clicks on it, but ponders on what exactly to say. It was normally you that reached out to her first, as she still wasn’t quite used to having the device, but today Carol felt like being the one to reach out and check on you for a change. She had really missed you of late, and didn’t particularly care if that became known to you. 

   She contemplated on what exactly she wanted to say, but nothing seemed to sound right to her. Part of her isn’t sure why she's so worried about sending something that would be deemed more interesting than the usual text, but then she remembers that it's you and quickly realizes why she feels that the ordinary just simply wouldn’t do. 

   She sighs and sets her phone down next to her, and runs a hand through her hair as she continues to think. As she does so Goose makes his way into the room and over to the stumped hero. He hops up onto the bed next to her, unknowingly stepping on the phone in the process effectively attaching and sending a photo. This particular one was of Carol nude and all sweaty post workout. Unfortunately the blonde hadn’t noticed as she was too busy racking her brain for a decent way to greet you. 

   You however had noticed as soon as you received the notification and the sight alone was enough to have your knees wobbling. Carol and you have always had a slightly more than friendly flirtatious relationship, but this, well it had caught you rather off guard. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, because you absolutely did, you just hadn't expected her to be so wordlessly bold. 

   “Move. I need to text Y/n and you shouldn’t be standing on that anyway” she reprimands as she notices where her alien feline friend is. But as she brushes him aside and picks up her phone she finally becomes aware of what's happened, and she can feel the color drain from her face, “Oh my god, Goose!”

   The flerken looks at her nonchalantly as he walks away, clearly having no idea or care of the anxiety he's just caused in the woman. This anxiety only increases when she notices that you're typing out a reply, and she finds herself no longer minding that she was off earth at the moment. Spares her from having to look you in the eye anytime soon after this blunder.

   Wow Captain, that's quite a conversation starter.

   The color comes back to her face tenfold as her cheeks burn a bright pink, Well, you know I like making an entrance

   Mhm, and when will you be making one on earth again? 

  Carol can feel her pulse race at the question, As soon as I’m needed

   I think you're going to be needed tomorrow evening. Wear something nice <3

[theelkmaiden]

So I've been thinking about Billy Batson (as one does). Specifically that one post about "why doesn't he just lie" about his secret identity.

So, imagine, 9 year old street rat billy batson celebrating his birthday, looking forward to taking some home made chilli from the watch tower to his little apartment and singing himself happy birthday. He gets accosted by leaguers who won't stop pestering him about his identity (he's still pretty new to the league) and, as 9 year old do, he gets annoyed and tells them to go away so he can celebrate his 9th birthday in peace. Of course, this gets more questions asked.

So Billy lies.

What does he come up with? He's an alien. From a short lived race. He became an adult at age 2. The life expectancy is 13, at most (13 is so far away. Its basically an impossible number. He's a street rat. He won't live that long.)(Think the ocampa from star trek)

And then he leaves and promptly forgets.

His coworkers do not.

Time jump 4 years, new foster home, and new siblings later and he's coming up to his 13th birthday. The justice league have started walling on eggshells around him, asking if he needs more time off. Offering him their seats if there's not one left. He thinks it's odd, but just goes with it.

He's going through puberty. He starts to mellow a little and gets grumpy. He's starting to forget things from his childhood, as all teenagers do.

Just, the misunderstandings. The angst. The confusion.

It'd be great.

Also, combined with that "eldritch captain marvel" post where he doesn't really need to breath or ant of that because he's made of magic. Say he falls asleep one day and just stops unconsciously doing the "alive human" thing.