#and looking at the broken pieces of the arrow they had pulled from it

[jeremiahthefroge]

hey hi hello just finished s1 e13 of mcd. This ones ends with Garroth and Zenix out on patrol and Zenix looking up and aiming his bow at Garroth with the Scary Piano playing. What I think is a fun detail is that Zenix actually had Aphmau make that bow and those arrows for him in the previous episode! And you know! Garroth obviously at least admires Aphmau and supports her and is like, already down to protect her at this point! He might not be like super devoted to her and he might not even love her yet but still there's a bond starting there! He was like JUST talking about how he needs Aphmau to stay safe bc the village will be in safe hands if he dies and that he wouldn't want her death to be on his hands, so OBVIOUSLY HE CARES! And her bow and arrows just put this man in critical condition in the hands of the knight he is TRAINING. What!! What the fuck!!!

[lila-went-missing]

Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!

Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!

I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.

This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.

My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home

Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader

For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.

Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.

Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.

It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.

You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.

Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.

Oh gods. You thought.

You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.

Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Clar.." You whisper.

She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.

"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.

"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.

On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.

She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.

"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.

"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.

You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.

You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.

"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.

She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.

"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.

"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."

Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.

A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.

"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.

"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.

"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."

"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.

"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.

Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.

[sodapopwrites]

a ballad of flame and shadow part ten

pairings - azriel x rhysands!sister reader

summary- after hybern, she talks to her brother rhysand, who helps her come to terms with her feelings. and finally she faces azriel and faces what she really feels for azriel. maybe even accepting it.

word count - 1.5k

a/n - i let them be happy at the end guys! everybody cheer and clap or something. sometimes all you need to do is talk to your brother...or almost die. whatever. tomato tomato. also let me know if you guys think i should keep writing this series! I was gonna end it here...but if you want more of them...i might oblige.

read the rest of the series here!

She sat on the staircase. Unmoving. Refusing to wash his blood from her hands. She had pulled the arrow from his chest the second they slammed back into the townhouse. She had let a wave of anger crash over her. At the sight of Cassian’s mangled wings, at the hole in Azriel’s chest, at Feyre’s gaping absence. 

That kind of bond cannot be broken. 

Mor’s words. Refusing to believe that Hybern had been able to sever the mating bond between her brother and Feyre. She prayed it was true as she looked at her mate. As she looked at Azriel, unconscious and bleeding. She couldn’t lose it, not when she’d finally let it find her. 

The rage hit her first, at Rhysand’s admission floated through the house. His secret. 

Feyre Archeron. Feyre Cursebreaker. Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. 

And then that guilt hit her. That guilt that always plagued her. 

So she sat on the staircase. She hadn’t dared to let herself follow Azriel and Madja upstairs, letting Rhys accompany them instead. She couldn’t follow Cassian either. She couldn’t even look at him. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. My family broken and bleeding and it’s all my fault. 

She didn’t know how long she sat there. Barely blinking. Barely moving. Her eyes far away, still with the pool of blood on the floor of Hybern’s throne room. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

Rhysand padded his way down the hallway. He was exhausted and devastated, itching to race to Spring Court and take Feyre back home. But stopping himself. This was something his mate had to do. So instead he had busied himself with watching over the healing of his brothers. 

He had watched as Madja carefully pieced Cassian’s wings together. Promising him that he would heal. That it would take time, but he would heal. He had watched as the healer fused over Azriel. He didn’t know where his sister was. But he knew exactly how she was feeling. He had known her too long. There was one reason she wasn’t at her mate’s side and he knew it well. 

The siblings too alike for their own good. 

Azriel not awake to wash away her guilt. He sighed. He would have to do it. So he left the Shadowsinger’s room to find her. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

She hadn’t moved in hours. It was like she was glued to the step she perched on. 

Rhys took her in. Her blank expression. Azriel and Cassian’s blood coating her clothes, her face, her hands. He stood in front of her now, but she didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Fearing for the worst. She didn’t know if she could bear it. 

“He’s okay.” 

He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. 

Her brothers words thundered through her mind and she finally looked up at him, 

“How okay?” 

“He’ll make a full recovery. It’ll take some time. But he’ll be fine. Completely fine.” 

She nodded and looked down at her hands. Rubbing them together slightly, like the movement would cleanse them. 

“You should be with him when he wakes up.” 

“I can’t Rhys.” 

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He moved to sit next to her now, “Yes you can.” 

She shook her head. Not looking at him as he sat on the steps with her. Not wanting him to see the tears that now streamed down her face. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Let yourself believe that this was all your fault.” 

She laughed and sniffled, turning to face him. 

“I wasted years. Refusing to believe that it was real. Refusing to accept this” She motioned towards her chest. Like Rhysand would be able to see that golden thread now fully connecting his sister and his spymaster, “Thinking that it would be better. For everyone. Thinking that if I let myself have him….It would somehow be a detriment to everyone else.” 

She took a deep breath and continued, “I kept waiting. For the right time. For a moment of peace. Thinking that when everything was okay and everyone I care about was safe. That would be the perfect time to let it hit. To let it snap. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hold it in.” 

Rhysand spoke slowly, “You didn’t have to.” 

“Yes I did. Because I was right. I was right. I couldn’t accept it until he was dying. And look what we lost.” 

He whispered her name but she ignored it, pushing forward, 

“I couldn’t protect anyone. I couldn’t shield Cass. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Feyre. Because I was too distracted. Because all of my worst fears came true and I couldn’t feel anything except for  him slipping away from me the second I let myself have him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Rhysand gripped her shoulder as he said it. But it didn’t matter. 

“Yes it was.” 

“Not everything bad that happens is your fault. Cassian will heal. Azriel will heal. Feyre will come home when the time is right.” 

He moved his hand to her other shoulder, gripping them both now hard, forcing her to face him as he continued, 

“We took a hit today. But this guilt you’re feeling? That you always let consume you? It’s not your burden to bear alone. So go upstairs and be with him. Be with your mate.” 

She shook her head, “I can’t.” 

“You can and you will”

“Why should I?” 

“Because with everything going on. With the war we’re about to fight. With everything we’ve already lost, already suffered through…You deserve a little bit of relief. Let yourself be happy. Let yourself feel this…If not for yourself, for us, for your family, for Azriel.” 

She looked at her brother. Saw the guilt she carried reflecting in his eyes. Too alike for their own good. Too used to pushing away their own comfort for the sake of everyone else. But he had let himself fall in love. He had let himself accept what was offered to him, and it was what drove him forward. 

He moved to stand and walk away, but before leaving her to make a decision about whether or not she would go upstairs, he turned and said one last thing, 

“Letting yourself love someone is not a weakness. It makes you stronger. It’s what has kept this family together for so long. It’s what’s going to keep us together for much longer.” 

She hated that he was right. She hated that her brother always had to come to these realizations before her. Hated that he was always a step ahead of her growth wise. But he was right. She knew he was right. 

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

She stepped into the dim bedroom quietly. The curtains were drawn, a candle flickering softly, casting a golden light over Azriel. Who lay in the bed a couple feet away from her. He looked peaceful. Like maybe he wasn’t in too much pain. He looked like he was healing. 

Color had come back into his face. His hair fell over his forehead caressing his skin softly. The bandages wrapped around his chest were white and clean, blood was not seeping from him as it had been before. He was okay. 

She let herself draw nearer. Let herself perch on the side of the bed. Let herself brush the soft black curls away from his face. His lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes and when he saw her…he smiled. Like his injury was the last thing he was thinking about. Like the devastation of the day behind them was more bearable now that she was sitting in front of him. 

She sharply inhaled as his hazel eyes met hers. Trying to smile back at him, but not quite managing. 

His voice was raw and strained as he spoke, 

“You know…if I knew that getting myself almost killed would get you to accept the mating bond. I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

She let out a laugh. A real laugh, interrupted by the tears spilling from her eyes, a little unbelieving. But still a laugh, 

“Are you making a joke right now?” 

“Bad time?” 

He grinned at her and carefully moved to sit up, despite her protests. He raised a hand to the side of her face, and pulled it to his own, capturing her lips with his. 

When she pulled away she pressed his forehead to his and closed her eyes. His voice filling her ears, 

“Are you going to spend another five hundred years avoiding this? Or are you going to make it easier this time?” 

She snorted, “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?” 

He kissed her again and smiled against her lips, “I think you should let me love you.” 

She pulled away from him. Taking in his glittering eyes, the smile that played on his lips, the dark lashes lining his eyes, it was like she could see that golden thread circling around Azriel’s hazel irises. 

“You know I think so too.” 

Feyre’s return to the Spring Court. Hyberns building force. The war to come. 

They would handle it together. They would fight together, for their family, for their home, for each other. 

taglist:

@littlepippilongstocking @lilah-asteria @wrecklesssly @negomi123 @stqrgirlies-blog @mrsbarnes32557038

[florencemtrash]

Please remember me - Azriel x Reader

Ok but just imagine how heartbroken Az would be if he lost the woman he loved, but when the Cauldron brings her back, she doesn't have any memories of him.

It's after midnight and I'm feeling things...

___________________

You broke through the frigid darkness, something fragmenting beneath your fingers into a million sharp pieces as you wrenched your body up and gasped for breath.

Freezing. You were freezing to death in a pool of water. Or so you thought. Weak, uncooperative limbs flung over the lip of the pool, rough skin grabbing hold of you. You spilled out of the Cauldron into Azriel's waiting arms, and he wasted no time in burying his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent no longer tainted bitter and metallic by blood.

"Thank the gods. Y/n. I thought... I thought I lost you. Y/n. Y/n." He whispered your name over and over. A word more precious than the holiest of prayers.

You basked in the safety of his arms, the strength in the hands that gripped your hip and cradled the back of your head. That feeling of safety didn't go away when the stranger pulled back, molten hazel eyes staring into yours. He was the most beautiful male you'd ever seen. A face composed of graceful lines broken up by the tragic pain in his eyes, the tears that traced a path down his cheeks, the pained smile. He looked at you the way mates did in all the stories you'd read. Like holding you was the same as holding the world in his palms.

But when he kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs like he was the one that had nearly drowned, you knew you needed to put a stop to this. One hand on his chest, the faintest hesitation on your lips, was all it took for him to pull away, eyes searching your body for any sign of hurt.

"Y/n? What is it? What's wrong, love?"

You hesitated. Your name was familiar on his lips, like it belonged there, like it belonged to him. But none of that changed the fact that you had no idea who this raven-haired male was.

"I-I don't..." You didn't want to say it. Didn't want to break the look of hope and relief on his face.

"Y/n?"

You finally noticed the small collection of fae behind him. A striking female with silver-tinted eyes beside a male as strong and wide as a mountain, Illyrian wings held tight against his spine like a notched arrow. A male and female, clearly mated, looking like figures carved from the fabric of the night sky. A female in red with golden-blond hair and doe-brown eyes. All of them weeping, or wiping away tears from red-rimmed eyes.

"Y/n? Please, look at me." Azriel begged, "Please." He whispered, feeling the tension in your body and the panic in your eyes, "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

When your eyes slid back to him, his heart plummeted in his chest, nose diving faster than he'd ever fallen in his life. He knew what words would tumble off your tongue before you said them. The confusion in your eyes spoke volumes.

"I don't... I don't know you."

The room stilled, voices trapped in everyone's throats along with their breath, and Azriel's hope shattered into a million pieces.

[dee-writes-angst]

Endless, Soulshattering Quiet (Eris Week Day Five)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x Tamlin Sister!Reader

SUMMARY What else are you expected to do when you lose your mate, the one person who kept you tethered and alive? Not try everything in your power to bring him back? Yeah right.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, death, grief, graphic descriptions of pain, death, and wounds, sadness, loss, broken mating bonds, smut, war, tamlin being a good brother?, the holy trinity (angst, smut, fluff babies)

AUTHORS NOTE happy day five @erisweekofficial!!! I had the be the one person to serve some death content, did you really expect me not to with prompts like war and adventure? I promise that while I will rip your hearts out with soul-destroying angst, I will also make your legs cry with some yummy smut at the end ;)

The air was thick with smoke, a haze of ash and blood lingering over the battlefield as the war raged on. You stood at the edge of it all, your heart pounding in your chest, hands trembling.

Eris had always been a beacon of strength and resilience, but as you watched the battle unfold, a cold dread crept over you. You’d always known the risks, the dangers of loving someone so involved in war, but nothing could have prepared you for the sickening feeling that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

He was out there.

Your mate was out there, somewhere in the fray, and every second that passed without seeing his familiar auburn hair or hearing his sharp, commanding voice felt like an eternity.

The war with Hybern had taken its toll on everyone. The Spring Court was crumbling under the weight of its losses, and yet you, Tamlin’s sister, had found solace in the most unlikely place—in Eris Vanserra. His love had been fierce, all-consuming, a fire that burned away your fears and melted the ice that had built up around your heart.

And now, that fire was out there, on the front lines, fighting for his life.

You were pacing the edges of the war camp, wringing your hands as you scanned the horizon for any sign of him. The hours dragged on, each one heavier than the last, and with each passing moment, the knot in your stomach tightened.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to hear yourself over the chaos. “Please come back to me.”

And then, as if the gods themselves had heard your prayer, you saw him. His tall frame emerged from the smoke, his armor glinting under the pale sun as he moved through the wreckage. Your heart leapt into your throat as relief surged through your veins. He was alive.

You ran toward him, desperate to reach him, to feel his arms around you, to know that everything would be alright.

But before you could get to him, you saw it.

An arrow, dark and gleaming, soared through the air. It moved in slow motion, cutting through the fog of war with terrifying precision.

“Eris!” you screamed, your voice breaking as the arrow struck.

It hit him square in the chest.

He staggered back, his hand flying to the shaft lodged between his ribs. You could see the shock in his eyes as he looked down at the wound, his fingers stained with blood.

“No,” you breathed, your legs moving before your mind could catch up. “No, no, no.”

You sprinted toward him, your heart in your throat, the world around you fading into nothing but him. The noise of the battlefield was a distant hum, drowned out by the sound of your pulse thundering in your ears.

Eris fell to his knees, his body swaying as he struggled to stay upright. You caught him just as he collapsed, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, pulling him into your lap.

“Eris, please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “Stay with me. You can’t—” Your words choked off in your throat as you pressed your hand to the wound, blood seeping through your fingers. It was too much, far too much.

He looked up at you, his amber eyes dull with pain, but there was a soft smile on his lips, one that broke your heart into pieces. “You’re here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely more than a breath.

You nodded frantically, tears blurring your vision as you cradled him closer. “I’m here, I’m right here,” you said, your hands trembling as you cupped his face. His skin was already growing cold, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “You’re going to be okay, Eris. I promise, just stay with me. We’re going to get you out of here.”

But even as you said the words, you knew it was a lie. The wound was fatal. He wouldn’t survive this.

Eris’s hand found yours, his grip weak but steady as he brought your trembling fingers to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “I love you,” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face in these final moments.

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “You’re not—this isn’t goodbye. You’re going to make it. We’re going to get you home, I swear.”

But Eris only smiled, that soft, heartbreaking smile that shattered what was left of your resolve. “We were going to build a life,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wanted to give you everything.”

Tears streamed down your face, your body shaking as you held him closer, your hands gripping his armor as if you could anchor him to this world. “We still can,” you whispered, desperation clawing at your chest. “We still have time, Eris. Please, don’t leave me.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of sorrow passing through his amber eyes. “I’ll find you,” he promised, his voice barely audible now. “In the next life, I’ll find you. And we’ll have our time.”

You pressed your forehead to his, sobbing openly now as you felt his body growing heavier in your arms. His breaths were slowing, each one more labored than the last.

“Eris,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Please don’t go.”

The moment Eris's body fell limp in your arms, a horrible, soul-crushing realization slammed into you—he was gone.

A scream ripped from your throat, so raw and guttural that it tore through the chaos of the battlefield like a wild animal unleashed. It was the sound of pure agony, of a bond severed far too soon. The world seemed to hold its breath, soldiers pausing in the middle of the fight to glance your way as your voice echoed through the field. It was a sound unlike anything they’d ever heard—a wail that came from the deepest, darkest part of you, as if your very soul had been wrenched from your chest along with him.

The bond—your bond—shattered.

You felt it break as the last flicker of Eris's life faded. The once warm, golden thread that connected your souls was severed, leaving behind nothing but an aching void, so cold and hollow it made you want to scream again, to fill the unbearable silence with anything, anything but the emptiness.

But there was nothing. No warmth, no soft pulse of his love in the back of your mind. Only stillness. Only quiet.

The bond had been your secret—hidden from everyone, even from Tamlin, your own brother. No one knew, not the Vanserras, not your court, not anyone. It had been your decision to protect each other, to keep what was precious hidden from the treacherous eyes of those who would ruin it. But now, now that Eris’s life had been snuffed out like a candle, there was no more hiding.

Your scream—the raw anguish that poured from your lips—told everyone. His soldiers, your brother’s men, they all knew.

Eyes turned toward you, and in that moment, the truth lay bare.

Eris Vanserra and Tamlin’s sister were mates. And now, he was gone.

A stunned hush fell over the battlefield, as if the world itself were mourning his loss, as if the gods had pressed pause on this wretched war just to bear witness to your grief.

You gripped his armor, fingers trembling as you rocked back and forth, refusing to let him go, the pain of the broken bond still coursing through your veins like poison. The silence stretched on, oppressive and suffocating, pressing down on your chest until you could hardly breathe. You had felt that bond, that beautiful, fragile connection, every single day since it had snapped into place. And now…now there was nothing but this dreadful, unending quiet.

As your sobs tore through the battlefield, the silence became too heavy to bear. From the edge of the fray, figures broke away from the lingering chaos, running toward you with a growing sense of urgency.

Tamlin was the first to reach you. His broad frame, usually exuding the power and strength of a High Lord, was trembling as he knelt beside you. "No..." he breathed, his voice barely audible. His green eyes were wide, horrified as they took in the sight of you cradling Eris's lifeless body, the truth settling over him like a crushing weight.

“No,” he whispered again, harsher this time. He reached out, his hand shaking, but he didn’t touch you. He couldn’t. The shock was too great, and his mind was spinning too fast. His gaze flickered from Eris’s bloodied chest to your tear-streaked face, the anguish there too much for him to comprehend.

Lucien arrived moments later, his steps faltering as he neared. The color drained from his face, his usually sharp eyes dulling in an instant as he saw his brother’s body lying in your arms. For a long, breathless moment, he stood frozen, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came out. His mind, too, was struggling to catch up, to process what he was seeing.

"Eris?" he rasped, his voice breaking. He dropped to his knees beside you, his shaking hands hovering over his brother’s chest, not daring to touch the body that had already gone cold. "Eris," he whispered again, and this time, it was a plea, a desperate cry to the gods. But the gods were silent.

His amber eyes, wide with disbelief, turned to you, searching for answers, for anything that would make this moment less real. “You…” he started, his voice thick with emotion. “You—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He could see it now, as clear as day. The bond between you and Eris, the love you had kept hidden. He had never known, never suspected.

Behind him, Rhysand approached. His violet eyes, always so calm and calculating, were filled with sorrow as he stepped into the circle of grief. He took in the scene—Tamlin’s horror, Lucien’s devastation, and your broken form holding onto Eris as if you could bring him back by sheer force of will.

Rhys knelt beside Lucien, his voice soft, steady. “He’s gone,” he said, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air. His gaze flicked between you and the others, understanding dawning on him in the grim silence.

“You were mates,” he said, not as a question but a solemn acknowledgment of the truth no one had seen. His voice was gentle, full of quiet sympathy, but it still cut through the air like a knife.

Tamlin flinched, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. “Mates?” he whispered, his voice cracking with disbelief. His eyes searched yours, his face pale and stricken as the truth settled in. He had never known, never even imagined his sister could be bound to the eldest Vanserra. His breathing became ragged, fury and heartbreak warring within him as his hands clenched into fists.

You couldn’t respond, your throat too tight, your sobs too harsh. All you could do was hold Eris closer, pressing your face into his bloodied armor as if you could somehow protect what little remained of him.

Lucien finally found his voice, but it was hollow, broken. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His question came out as a whisper, the anguish in his tone raw and palpable. He stared at you, as if knowing might have made a difference, as if there was something he could’ve done to stop this.

But there had been nothing anyone could do. The war had taken Eris, and it had shattered you along with him.

Rhys placed a steady hand on Lucien’s shoulder, his own grief hidden behind a mask of calm. “There’s nothing we can do now,” he murmured. “He’s gone.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The bond was severed, and with it, the world felt quieter, darker, as if all the light had been extinguished.

You had kept it hidden, thinking you could protect your love by keeping it secret, by shielding it from the cruelty of the courts and the ugliness of politics. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Eris had still been taken from you, and now everyone knew.

And there was nothing left but the unbearable silence where the bond used to be.

After Eris's death, you returned to the Spring Court like a shell of yourself. The once vibrant halls of Tamlin's manor felt suffocating, their earthy charm now stifling and cold. Days passed in a blur, though you were hardly aware of them. You didn’t eat. You barely slept. You didn’t even speak. Each sunrise and sunset blurred together, an endless cycle of loss that dragged on without meaning. The bond was gone—ripped away as cruelly as the life of the man you had secretly loved. Without him, the world seemed to exist in muted, lifeless tones.

Your room became a prison, its four walls confining you to the agony of his absence. You’d spend hours just sitting by the window, staring at nothing, waiting for something that would never come back. Your body ached, not from hunger or fatigue, but from the cold void where the bond used to hum with life. It was as if the very air around you had turned to ash, choking the last flicker of light from your soul.

Tamlin came to your door every day, knocking softly, hoping that today would be the day you’d speak. He’d ask if you wanted to go for a walk, eat something, maybe even talk about what had happened. But you didn’t respond, not to him, not to anyone. His patience seemed infinite, but his heart was breaking watching his sister crumble into nothing before his eyes.

Lucien tried too. He’d sit beside your bed in silence, sometimes telling you stories of their childhood, hoping that memories of a better time might pull you from the darkness. But you never reacted, your gaze never shifted. You were simply... gone.

The silence stretched for weeks.

No one could reach you. Not even Tamlin, who had always been your protector. He was the one who held you after the battle, the one who shielded you from the harsh stares of the court as they discovered the truth of your bond with Eris. The one who should’ve been the first to know about your love but only found out when it was already too late.

Now, he watched helplessly as you withered, your once vibrant spirit consumed by grief. He saw the way you flinched at the sound of footsteps outside your door, the way your body seemed to curl in on itself as though you could shut out the world entirely.

One evening, Lucien and Tamlin spoke in hushed tones in the hallway, their voices barely audible through the thick door. You didn’t need to hear their words to know they were talking about you, about how you were slipping further away with each passing day. How your silence had grown more unbearable than any scream or cry could have been.

But then, Tamlin said something that cut through the haze, something that stirred the faintest ember within your hollow chest.

“There might be a way to bring him back.”

Your heart, once heavy and lifeless, gave the faintest flutter. You barely heard Lucien’s response, but the idea—bring him back—echoed through your mind like a bell tolling in the distance. For the first time since Eris’s death, something stirred deep within you. A flicker of hope, small and fragile, but enough to push you to move.

The next day, for the first time in weeks, you left your room.

The sunlight seemed too bright, too warm on your skin after being confined in darkness for so long, but it didn’t matter. Tamlin and Lucien were waiting, their faces a mix of relief and caution as you slowly descended the staircase.

“Tell me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. Tamlin blinked, shocked to hear you speak, but quickly regained his composure.

“There’s a place,” Tamlin said, his tone hesitant but certain. “In the Autumn Court. The Ember Grove. It’s dangerous—nearly impossible to find—but if anyone can reach it, you can.”

“You knew this?!” You approached, stopping abruptly before him, your body trembling with the effort as anger surged through your veins. “You knew there was a chance, and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t—” Tamlin started, his own frustration bubbling to the surface as he tried to reason with you. “It’s not that simple. The Ember Grove—it's dangerous. The magic is wild and uncontrollable. It could kill you. I didn’t want to give you false hope, not when—”

“When what?” You spat, your voice rising as you advanced toward him. “When I’ve already lost everything? When I’ve spent weeks trapped in this hell, barely able to breathe without him? And you knew? You knew there might be a way and you didn’t tell me?”

Tamlin’s jaw tightened, his heart breaking at the sight of you unraveling. “I didn’t want to lose you, too.”

“You already have!” you shouted, the sound of your voice reverberating through the room. “I’m already gone, Tamlin. I have been since the moment I felt that bond go silent. You can’t lose something that’s already dead.”

The room was heavy with your words, and Tamlin could only stand there, helpless in the face of your grief and fury. He wanted to tell you how much he understood, how much he hated that you’d been forced to hide your love, how much he wished things could be different. But nothing he said could change the past.

Instead, it was Lucien who stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “We didn’t know how to tell you. It’s not that we didn’t want to help. We were just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the air. “There’s nothing left to protect. All that’s left is this emptiness, this nothingness. I’m done protecting myself. If there’s a chance, no matter the risk, I’ll take it.”

Tamlin’s gaze softened, but the worry remained. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. The Ember Grove... it’s not just dangerous. The trials you’ll face—if you even make it to the heart of the grove—will test you in ways you can’t imagine.”

“I don’t care.” Your voice was cold, final. “Tell me where it is.”

In the heart of the Autumn Court’s oldest woods, there exists a place forgotten by most, spoken of only in whispers: The Ember Grove. It is said to be where the first Vanserras were blessed by the forest, where the very essence of the Autumn Court’s power—fire, rebirth, and renewal—originated. According to legend, within this grove lies a single, sacred tree, its bark glowing faintly with embers, its roots entwined with the magic of the land. The tree is said to possess the power to reignite life, but only for those bound by fate and blood.

The spell that will bring Eris back is not without a cost—it demands something of equal worth. Lucien tells you that the ritual involves binding your magic to the land and using the remnants of your bond as a tether to call his spirit back. It is said that the magic of the grove will only grant him life for one willing to take on his pain.

To bring Eris back, you must willingly take his death wound into yourself, allowing his body to heal while you endure the agony of the blow that killed him.

The journey to the Ember Grove was a grueling test from the very start. It began in the outskirts of the Autumn Court, where the forest thickened into a dark, twisted mass of trees. The air was different here—heavier, older, carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten spells. The ground beneath your feet felt unstable, as though the forest itself was alive and shifting, watching your every move.

As you ventured deeper, the forest closed in around you, the trees towering over you like silent sentinels, their bark blackened and gnarled. Shadows danced between the branches, and you swore you could hear whispers on the wind, voices long lost to time. The deeper you went, the more the magic thickened in the air, pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

The first trial came when you reached the river. Its waters were still, unnaturally so, and dark as ink. You had to cross it, but as soon as you dipped a toe into the water, icy tendrils shot up from the depths, wrapping around your ankles and dragging you under. The cold was paralyzing, your lungs burning for air as you fought to break free, but the river wanted you. It wanted your despair, your grief, your soul.

The only way out was to let go of the weight that had been dragging you down since Eris’s death. You had to release it, had to believe that he could be saved, that you could find him again. And only when you surrendered your fear did the icy grip release, letting you stumble onto the other side, soaked and shaking but alive.

The next trial was worse. As you climbed a steep hill, the air around you shifted, the forest blurring until you found yourself standing in the Autumn Court’s battlefield once more. But this time, you weren’t a bystander—you were forced to watch Eris die over and over again. Each time more brutal than the last. Each time more hopeless.

You screamed, fell to your knees, your hands clenching the earth as you watched the love of your life be torn away from you in every conceivable way. It was torture, pure and relentless. But you couldn’t leave. You couldn’t look away, because this was the trial—you had to endure the worst of your memories, had to confront your greatest fear.

And you did. For him.

It wasn’t until you reached the heart of the Ember Grove that the forest finally relented. The trees parted, revealing the fiery glow of the Ember Tree. Its bark shimmered with a heat that radiated across the clearing, and the air buzzed with a magic so intense it felt like it was burning through your skin.

You knelt before it, your body broken and battered from the trials, but your heart resolute. You whispered the ancient spell, the words foreign on your tongue, but you could feel the magic stirring beneath your feet, responding to your call.

The ground shifted, embers rising from the earth to swirl around you, and the fire consumed everything in its path. But you didn’t flinch. You welcomed the burn, the pain, because you knew what it meant—knew that with each passing second, you were closer to bringing him back.

You remained kneeling in front of the ancient, burning tree, its embers swirling faster and faster, drawn to the words you chanted in the old tongue.

You didn’t know what you were saying—only that the magic was speaking through you, commanding the earth and air, fire and spirit to bring him back. Each word felt like it was being torn from your chest, heavy with power, with longing, with desperation. The glow of the tree grew brighter, casting the entire clearing in an eerie orange light. The embers, once slow and floating, began whipping around like sparks from a fire, encircling you and the tree in a whirlwind of heat.

Your voice grew raw, your throat aching as the spell neared its end. The ground beneath you trembled, and with a final, guttural cry, you spoke the last word. The ritual had taken everything from you—every ounce of your strength, every fragment of your soul. But that final step, the one that had required you to bear the agony of Eris’s death wound—it had nearly broken you.

The Ember Tree had demanded a sacrifice, and when you pressed your hand to its scorched bark, you had felt the cold grip of death itself wrap around your heart.

The arrow that had impaled Eris, the one that had severed his life from yours, had been remade—plunging through your body with such force, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. You could feel the cold metal tearing through your skin, ripping through flesh and bone as if you had been the one on the battlefield that day. The pain was indescribable—a burning, crushing weight that threatened to drag you under, to take you into the dark with him.

But through the haze of agony, something changed.

The bond.

It had been a dead thing since the day Eris had fallen—quiet, silent, a gaping void in your chest that had left you cold and hollow. But now, now it was flaring back to life. Slowly, at first, a faint spark, but then—then it grew. Warmth spread through your body, threading through the pain, pushing back against the darkness.

And then, you felt it. Him.

The embers began to stir at your feet, swirling in the air, weaving together in the space before you. With each pulse of the bond, you felt his life tethering itself back to you, stronger and stronger with every beat. The ember-born winds gathered in front of you, twisting and turning, building him back from nothing.

You watched, breathless, as the fire coalesced into the outline of a man, a figure you had memorized in every stolen moment you’d shared.

First, his hair formed—the familiar fiery strands that had once caught the sunlight so beautifully, and then his shoulders, broad and powerful, the ones you had buried your face into when the world had been too much. His chest came next, rising and falling with the shallowest of breaths, his heart beating in time with yours. You felt the bond solidify in your chest as the embers continued to craft him, filling the gaping hole inside of you as it mended itself.

Then came the details—the intimate, tiny pieces of him you knew better than your own skin. The freckles. You leaned in, your breath trembling as you watched them appear on his pale skin, one by one. There was the cluster just below his collarbone, the one you had kissed so many times it felt like yours. Your eyes traced the path of them across his body—scattered over his shoulders, across his back.

Your gaze drifted lower, and there it was—the small mole on his right ring finger, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. You had kissed it once, tracing the curve of his hand as you lay beside him. Now, seeing it remade before your eyes, you couldn’t hold back the sob that rose in your throat.

His hands, those calloused, warm hands that had held you so tightly, now twitched with life, his fingers curling slightly. You could see the lines of his palms, each crease and scar, familiar and so achingly beautiful in their imperfection.

The embers worked their way over his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint stubble that you had once teased him about. And then his lips—soft, full, and slightly parted as they took in the first breaths of his new life. You could already feel them against your skin, the ghost of a kiss that hadn’t yet been given.

Finally, his eyes. Those brilliant amber eyes, the ones that held a thousand secrets, a thousand promises. Slowly, they opened, and when they met yours, the bond flared so violently it nearly brought you to your knees. It wasn’t just his presence you felt—it was his soul, his essence wrapping around you, filling you up until there was nothing but him.

“Eris,” you breathed, your voice trembling, tears streaming down your face as you looked into those eyes, the ones you thought you’d never see again.

He blinked, disoriented, but then recognition flooded his features. His lips moved, but no words came out—just a breath, a small, shaky exhale as his hand lifted weakly toward you.

You didn’t hesitate. You surged forward, pressing your body against his, needing to feel him—his warmth, his heart, his life.

His arms, though still weak, wrapped around you, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was real. He was real.

“I thought I lost you,” you sobbed, clutching him tightly. “I thought I’d never—”

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice raw and broken. His hand cupped the back of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m here.”

You weren't able to walk after to ritual, body too weak from the stress of the powerful magic that you channeled to summon him to do much else than cling to him. You had wanted to stay there, to not move as you memorized every part of him once more just to be sure, but Eris was insistent on getting out of the oppressing weight of the forest, carrying you to an abandoned cabin just outside the powerful barrier of magic.

The cabin was old, forgotten by time, its walls weathered by countless storms and its windows fogged over with dust. It wasn’t much—a single room with a fireplace, a rickety table, and a bed that had seen better days. But it was shelter, a place to breathe after the chaos of the ritual.

Eris had carried you inside, his steps slow and measured, the weight of his new body still settling into place. You hadn’t let go of him since the ritual, your fingers gripping his tunic as if he might disappear if you loosened your hold. You couldn’t stop touching him—running your hands over his chest, his arms, up to his face, memorizing the feel of him, grounding yourself in his warmth.

The bond between you was fierce now, stronger than it had ever been, pulsing with each heartbeat as if reminding you both that he was alive—that he was here.

But even that didn’t calm the frantic desperation inside of you.

He sat you on the edge of the bed, gently prying your hands from his tunic as he knelt in front of you, his amber eyes soft with understanding. He hadn’t said much since the ritual—he didn’t need to. The bond conveyed everything, every flicker of emotion, every unspoken thought.

The air in the cabin felt too thick to breathe, the quiet too loud, like the entire world had been reduced to this moment, this space, and the man kneeling before you. The flickering light from the fire cast soft shadows across his face, illuminating the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the determined set of his jaw, and the unmistakable intensity in his amber eyes.

Eris was calm—too calm—as if he hadn't just been ripped from death and thrust back into life. As if he didn’t understand that every beat of your heart now felt like a miracle, that the bond between you was buzzing with a newfound ferocity, pulling you toward him like a gravitational force you couldn’t resist. But it was more than that. It was the fear still clinging to the edges of your mind, the terror of almost losing him. You had lost him, and now that he was back, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him slip away again, not even for a second.

You’d spent days—weeks—since his death barely surviving, barely feeling. But now, every emotion, every sensation was alive, almost too intense to bear, and it all centered around him.

“I need you,” you whispered again, the words slipping from your lips like a prayer. “I need to feel you, Eris. Please.”

He stood up slowly, unfolding himself with that familiar, unhurried grace, and took your trembling hands in his. His fingers, warm and steady, threaded through yours, grounding you in his presence as he pulled you to your feet. Even with the weight of your desperation pressing against him, he moved with patience, every touch soft, like he knew exactly how fragile you felt.

“You’ve had me for years,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated through your bones. “I’ve never left you.”

But you did, the thought screamed in your head. You died. You left me. You were gone.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as the storm of emotions raged inside you. He didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—what it had been like without him. The bond, once so vibrant and alive, had gone utterly silent the moment he was taken from you, and the pain of that void had been unbearable, suffocating. And now? Now it was back, fierce and unyielding, and you couldn’t handle the thought of it going quiet again.

The fire crackled softly, but the world seemed to shrink, the cabin feeling smaller as you stood before him, your hands gripping his tunic again, pulling him closer, needing the warmth of him pressed against you. The desperation clawed at you, making it hard to breathe, and the only thing that felt real, that felt solid, was him.

“I need more than words,” you said, voice trembling, your nails digging slightly into his skin as you spoke. “I need to feel you. I need to know you're here. Truly here, with me.”

He inhaled slowly, the flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. The warmth of his body seeped into you, and for a moment, you could almost imagine it was enough—almost. But it wasn't. His arms alone weren't enough to silence the fear inside you, weren't enough to quench the wildfire of need roaring through your veins. You needed to be closer, to make sure that every part of him was still real.

You pressed against him more urgently, your hands fisting the fabric of his tunic as if you could pull him closer by sheer force of will. “Please, Eris,” you begged, the words a breathless whisper against his neck. “Don’t make me wait. Not after everything.”

For the first time, you saw a crack in his resolve—a flicker of heat in his gaze as he looked down at you. The control he always held so tightly began to fray at the edges, his breath hitching ever so slightly as his thumb traced along your jaw, down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that made your pulse quicken.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice huskier now, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair. “For me to give in?”

You nodded, unable to form words as the bond between you thrummed with the intensity of your need. The bond flared, every beat of your heart echoing in his chest, every shuddering breath mirrored between you. It was like a lifeline, tethering you both together, pulling you closer until the space between you disappeared.

He studied you for a moment longer, his amber eyes darkening as he searched your face, as if weighing the gravity of what you were asking. Then, with a soft exhale, he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

The kiss was consuming, a fierce and unrelenting thing that stole the breath from your lungs and left you gasping. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that matched your own, the calm control he’d maintained for so long finally giving way to the fire simmering beneath the surface. He kissed you like he was trying to burn away the last remnants of death, to remind you that he was alive—that you both were.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, as his tongue slid against yours, tasting, claiming. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your fingers desperate as you clung to him, trying to bridge the gap that still felt too wide. You wanted to lose yourself in him, to drown in the sensation of his lips, his touch, his presence.

But it still wasn’t enough.

You pulled back, breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss, and looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible. “I need all of you.”

For a heartbeat, he hesitated, his gaze locked on yours, as if he could sense just how much you needed this—needed him. Then, with a soft growl, he scooped you into his arms and carried you toward the bed, the soft, worn mattress creaking under your weight as he laid down.

You straddled Eris's lap, his body now fully alive beneath yours, the familiar warmth of him grounding you after the terrifying emptiness of his absence. As you sank down onto him, the sensation was both a relief and a reminder—he was here, with you, alive. The pressure of him inside you was overwhelming, but in the best possible way, as if it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. Each movement sent shivers down your spine, the desperation of lost time making everything more intense, more vivid.

Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers trembling as you felt his heartbeat strong beneath your palm. The reality of him alive, warm, and solid beneath you made your breath catch in your throat. "Eris," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion, "I thought I’d lost you."

His gaze met yours, filled with the same mix of emotions—relief, hunger, and something deeper, something that words couldn't quite capture. "I’m here, love" he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your hips, steadying you as you rocked against him. His voice, roughened by the strain of all that had happened, held a promise in it. "I’m not going anywhere."

His grip tightened, and his hips met yours in a steady, unhurried rhythm, each thrust a reassurance that he was real, that you had brought him back. "I feel you," you breathed, leaning forward, your lips brushing against his neck. "You’re alive, Eris. I need this, I need you."

Eris’s response was a low, guttural sound, his hands sliding up your back with both a tenderness and a hunger that mirrored your own. “I need you too,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I never stopped wanting you. Even then... I was holding onto you.”

The words sent a rush of heat through your body, the weight of what he was saying settling deep in your chest. Your movements became more urgent, the need to feel him, all of him, consuming you. You pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you began to ride him faster, desperate to close the gap between what had been and what was now.

"Don’t stop," you gasped, your voice shaking with a mix of pleasure and emotion. "I need all of you. I need to feel every part of you, Eris."

He groaned, the sound raw and full of need, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulled you down onto him. “You have me,” he rasped, his eyes never leaving yours. “Every part of me is yours.”

The rhythm between you grew more intense, the fire in the hearth forgotten as the heat between your bodies took over. The feeling of him inside you, of the way he moved with you, was everything—proof that you had him back, that he was yours. His lips brushed your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through you as he whispered, “I’m not letting go of you again. I swear it.”

You clenched around him, the pleasure building to a crescendo as his hands roamed over your body, guiding you, grounding you. "I love you," you gasped, the words slipping out as you lost yourself in the rhythm, in him.

Eris’s eyes darkened, his grip on you tightening as he thrust deeper, harder, his voice strained with both pleasure and emotion. "I love you too. Always." The intensity of his words was matched by the force of his movements, his body answering your every need, your every desire.

When the release finally came, it washed over you like a wave, pulling you under as your body trembled against his. Eris followed soon after, his groan low and rough as he buried himself inside you one last time, his grip on you never faltering.

In the quiet that followed, you collapsed against him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. His heart, steady and strong beneath your ear, was a reminder that he was here, that you had brought him back.

ERIS WEEK TAGLIST

@littlest-w01f @mp-littlebit

[wh0rezs]

“PIRANHA”

PAIRING: DAD!JAKE SULLY X DAUGHTER! READER, MOM!NEYTIRI SULLY X DAUGHTER! READER

SUMMARY: An ordinary day is interrupted by the wailing of children and someone screaming “she bit me, she bit me” and years in the future the Sullys relive the past.

WARNINGS: non, fluff, mentions of blood and biting, fighting

Neytiri and Jake relaxed in the newfound silence that filled the hut, Mo’at had graciously agreed to take her four grandchildren to the play grounds/ training of “young warriors” for the new parents.

Soon their peace was interrupted by the rustling of the flaps, and emerged was one Jake’s trainee, greeting the Olo’eyktan and tsakarem in the customary way .

“Olo’eyktan and tsakarem, you must come to play grounds. There has been a situation involving your eldest child, [name].” the young warrior huffed as the mated pair stood up at lightning speed.

As they ran towards the play ground, their minds swirling of the most terrible outcomes- [name] having an arrow sticking out of her arm or eye, or [name]’s tiny body broken in several places. But the sounds of Omaticaya child- boy and definitely not one of theirs-yelling words at someone reached their ears.

Quickly the scene came clear to them- a young boy, roughly a year older than you, was clutching his right arm while his parents comforted him and Mo’at was putting a salve on his arm. Neytiri and Jake’s eyes switched to other side where their own children and Tarsem (young boy who hung out with [name]) stood. On both of [name]’s hips rested Lo’ak and Kiri, who were both four. Neteyam, who was five, stood behind his sister.

The boy’s wails finally reached Jake’s ears again once he realized his own children were safe, and now it was clear he was screaming “she bit me, she bit me.”

“Mo’at, what happen here? Who bit the boy?” Jake demanded, pulling everyone’s attention. Mo’at glanced at Jake before her eyes flicked towards you, his eldest child at the age 6.

“Seems like your daughter bit the boy, and wouldn’t let go until she was dragged off of him” she told him and showed him the boy’s arm where sure enough there was your teeth marks tattooed into his skin. As Jake glanced at you, you smiled showing off red at the end of your canines.

“[name] tell me why you did this and then apologize to the poor boy.” Neytiri commanded you, and you quickly explained that the boy Taronyu was bullying Lo’ak and Kiri for their tawtute looks. Lo’ak happily clapped and laughed at the story, as if it was the funniest thing to hear when you said bit him.

Jake couldn’t help but feel proud of you for defending your siblings as you apologized to Taronyu. Afterwards, Neytiri took Kiri and Lo’ak from you, and the Sullies headed home for the day.

On the way, Jake ruffled your braided hair and whispered “I am proud of you, my little piranha.” You glanced up at him, clearly confused as what a piranha was.

[10 YEARS LATER]

The scuffle on the beach reached Tonowari and Jake’s ears, as ear piercing scream broke the silence. When the two dads reached the scene, they were surprised to see the Metkayinas trying to pull a deep blue body off an ocean blue body.

Jake quickly assessed the scene, finding three out of the four eldest also huddled around the two. His eyes darted to familiar body, whose tails and arms were being pulled at by Ao’nung, was when he pieced together the puzzle. Your incredible sharp teeth were sunken in to the Metkayina’s arm, and you weren’t going to let go as easily as 10 years ago.

“[name] let go.” he commanded and you quickly did with red staining your canines. The whole group started off to mauris, all the children getting hell from both respected adults.

“And [name], what the hell was that? Biting someone like a that?” Jake turned his attention to the smiling form of his daughter. You explained that Ao’nung and his goons had harassed Kiri, calling her a freak and once the fighting started you did what you knew best.

Jake hid his smile at your explanation, and later that night he explained to Neytiri that it felt deja vu. The sight of you smiling, teeth stained red, at the thought of protecting your young siblings. You were always gonna be his little piranha.

A/N: this sucks but i love comforting fanfics

[diaferia-dhades]

A Past Glimpse of Hope

Sylus x MC (angst, with comfort at the end. I'm not a monster. YET. )

Warning: heavy spoilers of Sylus' new myth. Major character(s) death.

Word count: 1050

Preview: After the dragon left her, a new life formed inside of her. However, the world is an unforgiving place. No peace will ever be found. In her last breath, she begged whatever heaven there is to have same baby when she meet her soulmate again in another life.

I had been obsessed with Sylus these few weeks because of his new myth. I saw some fanart where MC had a child with Sylus after he went (x_x) and I wanted to write something based on that.

My dragon is gone.

Her journey was long and rough. Trying to live without her beloved was like torture. Everyday, she would go far and wide to pick flowers for her beloved. Placed it neatly on the ground. Telling the wind of her days. Shedding her tears for no one to see.

A few months later, when she came back to the same field she had always gone to.

"I'm carrying our love," she said. Tears, shaped like pearls, run down her pale face. "I will protect it, even if it cost me my life.

But this world is an unforgiving place. The people living in this world do not like outcasts. Catching anyone who they deem as "sinners". Getting rid of them is "God's work".

She ran as fast as she can. She flew as far as she can. Holding on her swelled stomach, shielding it with her life. Angry yells and arrows piece through the air. Tears rolled down her eyes, pain erupted from her injuries and her stomach.

She crashed into a liar. A liar she is so familiar with. Gold and jewels piled in mountains. A single bed in the center. She laid on the bed, screaming in agony.

There was no one there for her.

She felt like her body was split in two.

A roar screeched, sliced through the air, pushed against the wind.

Then a dead silent because a cry was heard. It was the sound of a newborn taking their first breath.

She cradled the small life in her embrace, sobbing. The yells and screams of the mob had gotten closer and closer to the lair.

"I'm so sorry," She cried. "I broke my promise. I cannot protect her."

Broken sobs echoed in the lair.

She was scared. Scared for her. Scared for her child. What would they do to her? To her own child?

"I'm so sorry, my child," She sobbed. "You don't deserve a horrible mother like myself."

"Please," she screamed. "Please, whatever or whoever is in the heavens." She cradled her baby as she bowed down. "Please, let me have her again when I meet my soulmate again." She pleads. "Please..."

The lair, once filled with gold and jewels, was now engulfed in flames. A soft melody sang as the flame covered the lair. The longer the flames burned, the softer the melody got. Until they were silent.

I felt gentle touches on my stomach and a soft deep voice lured me awake. I opened my eyes slightly to see my husband talking sweetly to my swelled stomach. He kissed my stomach, and I felt a slight movement inside my belly as if to respond to his words and touches. I giggled.

Sylus looked over to me, and smiled, "Oh, is my wife eavesdropping on a father-daughter conversation?"

I touched Sylus' face, "You two already keeping secrets from me? I'm worried. What if you sneak her out to eat food that she isn't supposed to or stay past her bedtime?"

"Don't worry, that won't happen. Even if it does happen, you won't know." Sylus smiled, a glint of mischievous in his eyes.

I playfully slapped his shoulder, "You're already a bad father!"

Sylus chuckled, "Go back to sleep, love." He stood up, leaned toward me, and gave me a small peck on my lips.

I pulled the blanket up to my neck and slowly drifted off the sleep.

I woke up feeling a pang of pain in my stomach. Thinking it was cramps, I continued to close my eyes to try to get back to sleep. But as time passed, the pain continued and became more intense.

I quickly sat up and felt around my stomach. Am I giving birth? I looked between my legs and I felt a trickle of blood and some gotten on the sheet. Panicked, I grabbed my phone and called Sylus. My hands were shaking, hoping that the pain was just contractions and nothing bad happened to my baby.

It only took one ring for Sylus to pick up.

"Sweetie?" His voice brings so much relief and comfort.

"Sylus, um, I think I'm going into labor." I placed a hand on the top of my head, trying to calm myself.

"Ok, stay there, I will be there in five minutes." The line cuts off before I can respond.

Worried that five minutes was too long, I got myself off the bed and walked slowly down the stairs, toward the front door.

Before I even halfway through the stairs, the front door flung open, revealing a panicked Sylus. I nearly laughed at his form, his face filled with sweat and messy hair, but I winced from the pain. Sylus ran upstairs, and gently bridal carried me to the car to the nearest hospital.

I screamed and yelled from the pain, grabbing onto anything that could relieve slightly from the pain. It felt like I was pushing forever before the doctor yelled that the baby's head was visible. Nurses rushing back and forth.

I, however, wanted to punch someone. And that certain someone was the one who got me pregnant even though it was me who asked for it.

Sylus was on my side, giving me encouraging words and holding my hand. And I used his hand as my stress ball, squeezing it as hard as I could.

"How long is this going to take!" I screamed.

"Soon! Keep pushing!" The nurses said.

It seemed like hours before I felt some relief and the pain lessened. I closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath. Then I heard crying.

The cry sounded so familiar, as if I heard it before. I slowly opened my eyes and the doctor placed my baby on my chest. Her crying slowly died down as I held her. I embraced her. I felt a sense of relief, like as if I had made a wish a long time ago and it finally came true.

I will protect you with my life.

A gentle kiss on my forehead and I looked up. Sylus looked like he was going to cry but was holding back. "You did great, love."

Sylus hugged us both, "I will love and protect you both."

I smiled, "I know you will."

[librarygarten]

BotW Link x Lynel Hunter! Reader

I think we as a community are sleeping on the fact that BotW is a post-apocalypse. The settlements are few and far-between, most NPCs we meet on the road are being attacked by monsters, and more than one quest is a villager asking for help because they can’t deal with Calamity Ganon’s forces. So, what if Reader had to grow up in that world? How would they deal with the horrors? TW: mentions of death and disease, canon-typical violence

The world was broken. It had been broken long before you had been born. The dark clouds hanging over Hyrule Castle, the wandering machines, the monsters– all merely symptoms of the sickness plaguing the land. The elderly would occasionally tell you of a time before. When there was a princess and a knight. Champions to watch over the people.

Whoever they were, they had failed.

Growing up, your little town was relatively safe. Monsters didn’t venture too close, but they were always too close for comfort. The forest just below your village was home to more than a few Bokoblins and Moblins, not to mention the giant structure some other monsters had cobbled together just over the horizon. It was almost comical, how much their little fort looked like a tree house. But they were not to be trifled with.

Then the clouds over the castle got darker… and the monsters more numerous. Your quaint little village became less and less safe. Traveling to the next village over, which used to be relatively safe, if a bit stressful, was practically a suicide mission now. It would have been okay, you think, if nothing else had happened.

But then people got sick.

Really sick.

Maybe it was another curse of the land. Maybe it was punishment from the goddesses. Whatever the case, people were dying. You were lucky; you were still young when you got sick. A few weeks of shivering, coughing, sweating, and crying later, and you had the strength to get out of bed. Your parents weren’t as lucky. You took care of them as best as you could, but you could still hardly reach the stove to boil water for dinner.

You still aren’t sure which was worse: burying them that spring, or waiting all winter for the ground to thaw.

The rest of the adults fared about as well. Eventually, the sickness burned itself out. Nobody left to infect. Over the course of a year, you had become a village of orphans. The children who survived were weak, but did their best to put the pieces back together. But it quickly became apparent you didn’t have enough supplies. The gardens had been planted too late. The monsters were getting closer.

With no other options, you hugged your friends goodbye and set out on the road, praying to the merciless goddess that you would make it to the next village. That was years ago.

You snapped out of your own thoughts, focusing instead on the task at hand: the hulking beast that had been threatening the local Zora. The damned thing had electric arrows. It was almost like the beast had been perfectly selected to threaten the city below.

No time to think about what kind of divine wrath had placed it here. It swung its sword, and you jumped out of the way just in time. It swung again and you flipped over the blade. The monster roared, its mouth beginning to glow with flame.

Perfect.

You quickly take out your bow, firing an arrow directly at the thing’s face. It slumped forward, temporarily stunned. You ran forward, plunging your blade into its head. The creature let out a horrible death cry before collapsing into a pile of black goop and purple smoke.

“Stay dead, you stupid Lynel.” You kick the last of the black sludge, scattering it in the grass. You know it’s unlikely. It’s only a matter of time before another Blood Moon brings it back. But for now, the Zora should be safe.

You start walking back down the mountain, pulling your hood closer to shield from the pouring rain, but it’s no use. Vah Ruta’s rain was inescapable. You watch your footing as you walk, the muddy ground slippery beneath your feet. Perhaps it would be best to stay the night at the inn in Zora’s domain.

Glancing up, you’re surprised to see another Hylian. His armor makes him look like a Zora. He seems equally surprised to see you. You suppose you are covered in Lynel guts. You give him a polite wave, making a mental note to bathe before checking into the inn. He gives a hesitant wave back. You turn, continuing your path down the mountain.

At the inn, you hear the Zoras excitedly gossiping. Apparently, the centuries-dead princess’ lover had returned. Thinking nothing of it, you pay for a bed and set out at first light. Curiously, there was no rain that day.

The next time you see him is a few weeks later. You had been tracking a Lynel, this time near the base of Mount Lanayru. It manages to get a few good hits on you before you take it down. As you patch yourself up, making sure to stay out of sight of the Lizalfos in the area, you feel the ground beneath you shake. Looking at the mountain, darkness seems to erupt from it, spewing down the sides and straight towards your location. As it nears, you realize it’s not darkness– it’s a dragon, flying down the mountain at breakneck speeds. It’s covered in slime and eyeballs. You watch as the young man, around your age, dives off a nearby cliff and takes aim, hitting the goop. The dragon flies back up the mountain, and he lands near where you sit. Well, land is a strong word. He folds up his paraglider and just kind of.. faceplants into the dirt.

He looks at you. He looks at the Lynel bits still covering the ground. He looks back at you. You raise an eyebrow at him. Looking at him now, you can see his face and arms are covered in scars. Well, maybe scars wasn’t the right word. It looked like half his body had been burnt by a guardian laser and healed. His clothes were absolutely filthy, to say nothing of the smell.

He looks like he’s about to say something, but the dragon roars, snapping his attention back to it. He sprints after the beast, trying to hit the goop with an arrow once again. You decide to leave the dragon to the professional(?) and begin the long hike to the nearest village. If you hurry, you might make it before dark.

Hateno was surprisingly nice. The dye shop guy was… a bit strange. And apparently there was a mad scientist living up the hill. But other than that, it was nice. It almost made you wish you could stay. But you had things to do.

“Two arrow bundles, please.” You tell the shopkeeper. As you pack them in your bag, you hear the door behind you open. The shopkeeper greets the new customer. You look up. It’s the crazy guy that fought the dragon. He was sporting multiple new bruises and cuts across his face and arms. Before you can think, you blurt out “Dude, what happened to you?”

“Uhhh, sledding accident?” The blond scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Oh, that’s our Link!” The shopkeeper laughs, bundling up the newcomer's purchase and handing it to the boy. “He goes away for weeks at a time and comes back with the craziest stories. Did you know he’s gone to Hyrule Field?”

“Isn’t that place a death trap? There’s guardians everywhere.” You look at this ‘Link’ guy. He looks like he weighs four pounds soaking wet with shoes on. Definitely not someone you would imagine taking on a guardian. Then again, he apparently survived his encounter with the dragon on Lanayru.

“I mean, it was a bit tricky. But once you have the right equipment, it’s pretty easy to reflect the lasers back at them.” He smiles awkwardly under your gaze.

“Reflect the lasers back at them?” You cross your arms, unconvinced. “They break most shields in one hit. Two if you’re lucky. What kind of equipment could you possibly have to deal with them?”

“Just my shield.” Link looks puzzled. “I got it from inside the castle. Maybe it’s made better than the shields you’ve been using?”

“I’m sorry you went INSIDE the castle?” You scoff. “Nobody goes in there and makes it out. Hardly anyone even makes it to the gate.”

“Well, I did.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You roll your eyes. This guy sure was full of it. Sure, he had shot a dragon. But there was no way he had been inside the castle. The darkness inside. The monsters roaming everywhere. It was simply impossible.

“Fine.” Link suddenly grabs your arm, clearly annoyed. You don’t even have time to react as he pulls a device from his hip and hits the surface. You see a light surround you and suddenly you’re standing on a circular platform. There’s some sort of structure behind you. But that’s not what has your attention. The field in front of you, dotted with small patches of trees…

“What the HECK?” You exclaim, twisting out of his grip. “How are we at Hyrule Field? It’s days away from Hateno!”

“Magic?” He shrugs, and you can feel your blood pressure rising. “Anyway, wait here. I can take you back after I show you.” He takes off sprinting into the field.

“What the– ARE YOU INSANE!?” You yell, but he’s long gone. You watch where he disappeared for a few moments. Did he just leave you here? Okay, surely there wouldn’t be too many guardians between here and the road. There were enough trees you could hide behind, if need be. Just as you’re about to walk away, you see Link sprint out of the tree line.

With a guardian hot on his tail.

He waves excitedly at you as the machine powers up its laser. Welp, that settles it. This guy is clinically insane. Carrying his corpse back to Hateno would be impractical, but the village would surely appreciate some memento. Maybe after the guardian leaves you can take his sword? Or that tablet he had at his hip? You watch as the guardian fires at him. He holds up his shield… and the laser bounces off, hitting the ground a few feet away from you. The guardian fires again, and this time Link swings out his arm as the laser connects with the shield. The robot explodes.

“See!” Link runs over to you, ignoring the pile of guardian pieces. “Believe me now?”

Your jaw is still on the floor. Snapping your mouth closed, it takes a moment for you to process what you just saw. He killed a guardian. He killed a GUARDIAN. Which means he wasn’t lying about going inside the castle.

“You’re insane.” You laugh, finally able to speak. “How are you not dead, yet?”

“What can I say? I’m simply that good.” He puffs his chest out, clearly proud at proving his abilities to you.

“I saw you faceplant while fighting that dragon.” You giggle as his shoulders droop.

“Right. You saw that.” Blush creeps up his cheeks, dusting them a very cute shade of pink. Suddenly, he gets a confused look on his face. “Wait. What were you doing there?”

“There’s a Lynel that lives near the base of the mountain.” You shrug, as if that’s an explanation. Link waits for you to say more, but you don’t. Instead, you start walking southwest. You’ve got a vague idea of where you are, and you have a job to do.

“W-wait!” He yelps. When you don’t stop walking he falls in step beside you. “I can take you back to Hateno. You don’t have to walk.”

“Nah.” You wave your hand. “I’ve actually got stuff to do in the area. You saved me some travel time with your… whatever that was.”

“Like what?” He tilts his head, curious.

“Like that.” You stop walking. In front of you is a bridge, and beyond that, a giant colosseum. The walls are half-collapsed, and a black goopy substance clings to parts of the exterior.

“You’re not going in there, are you?” He looks worried.

“Of course I am.” You drop your bag, knowing it would slow you down too much.

“Umm, I would advise against that? There’s a bunch of monsters inside, and I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself, but it’s just that-” You ignore him and walk into the arena. The Lynel notices you almost immediately and brings its weapon down on the ground, sending a shockwave out in all directions. You backflip out of its range just in time, knocking an arrow as you do so. Before you land, you fire, hitting the beast directly in the face. It roars and rushes towards you, but you step out of the way just in time. You can feel yourself falling into the familiar patterns. Dodge. Strike. Parry.

The beast falls without much fanfare. It simply dissolves into darkness, like all the others do. You turn to collect your bag, and see Link, his mouth hanging open like a fish.

“You can close your mouth, pretty boy.” You chuckle as he snaps his jaw shut. “Why do you look so surprised? You killed a guardian not even ten minutes ago.”

“That was awesome.” He has stars in his eyes. You walk down the road and he follows behind you. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I’ve been doing it for years. Just trial and error. And a lot of healing potions.”

“Years?” He seems surprised. “You can’t be much older than me.”

“What is this? An interrogation?” You roll your eyes.

“Sorry. It’s just–” he pauses, and you can see the blush creep back up his cheeks. “I’ve hardly seen anyone on the roads. And when they do travel, half the time I have to save them from Bokoblins. And you handled that Lynel like it was nothing.”

“Yeah, most people don’t travel, genius.” You wave your hand dismissively. “Too many monsters nowadays. Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Uhh, not necessarily.” He looks confused. “Maybe? Technically?”

“Do you really not know?” You look him over. He seems well-traveled, if a bit dirty.

“Know what?”

“Dude, where have you been in the past couple of years?” You turn around, pointing towards the castle as you walk backwards. “Couple years ago, the clouds around the castle started growing. The elders all told us it was a bad omen. Course, nobody paid attention until the monsters started multiplying. The towns got less safe. And Blood Moons started happening.”

“Oh. It hasn’t always been like this?”

“Nah. When I was a kid traveling between towns was relatively safe.” You turn back around and look towards the setting sun. Crap. You hadn’t realized how late it was getting. You weren’t going to make it to the stable in time.

“So the monsters are getting stronger?” Link glances back at the castle. There’s something in his gaze you can’t quite decipher.

“Yeah. And bolder. Used to be they wouldn’t get too close to settlements. Now they’ll set up camp within sight of village gates.” You shrug.

“Then why were you going after Lynels? They don’t go near towns. I’ve only ever seen them in the wild.” 

“Those places weren’t always in the middle of nowhere. Lynels are super territorial. If their numbers aren’t controlled, they’ll fight over territory and drive each other closer to villages.” You veer off the path, deciding this patch of trees would be good enough to rest by. The skeletons that rose from the ground were too much of a hassle to deal with. And you were tired.

“Why did you start hunting monsters, though?” He follows you into the small forest.

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Sorry.”

“My turn.” You sit cross legged on the ground, leaning your head against your arm. “How come you didn’t know the monsters were getting worse? You from overseas or something?”

“No. I’m from Hyrule.” He puts up his hands defensively. “I’ve just been in a coma for… a while.”

“Coma? Dang.” You pull some food out of your bag and offer some to him. He takes it. “Well, I’m not sure how things were before you went under, but now we have a little something called personal hygiene. You should try it out sometime.”

You laugh and he looks down at his clothes, as if only now realizing how filthy they are. He raises his arm and sniffs.

“I don’t smell that bad, do I?” he asks.

“Like an Octorok ate you and spit you out.”

“Aw, man.” His shoulders slump, and you have to suppress a giggle.

“Don’t worry, man. It’s nothing some soap and water can’t fix.” You smirk and take a bite of your food. It’s not the greatest, but it’s one of the few foods that travel well.

“I guess. I’ve been so busy I guess I hadn’t noticed.” He grimaces and takes a bite of his own portion. His frown deepens, but if he has an issue with your food he doesn’t say anything.

“Busy with what?” You ask. “Fighting dragons?”

“I was freeing that dragon, thank you very much.”

“Freeing it from what? This life?”

“No!” Link crosses his arms. “I was shooting Ganon’s Malice off it. Now it’s free and can fly around, just like Dinarri and Farosh!”

“Ganon? Don’t tell me you believe those fairy tales.” You snicker. He doesn’t seem to find it funny.

“Fairy tales?” He looks offended. “Calamity Ganon is in the castle right now! Zelda’s been sealing him for the last century!”

“Sure. And Santa comes down your chimney each year.” You scoff.

“How can you not believe me? There are still people alive who remember the calamity!” He’s yelling now. He sure did take it personally.

“Those are just stories grandparents tell kids to get them to behave.” You make your hands into claws, as if telling a spooky story. “You know, ‘Ooh you better eat your vegetables or else Ganon will get you!’”

“What about the champions? Don’t tell me you think they’re fake, too!”

“Of course they existed. I’ve been around Zora’s domain. I know their princess died in Vah Ruta or whatever.” You shrug. “The royal family lost control of their robots and tons of people died. The champions failed to protect their people and perished like almost everyone else. But that’s history.”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT THEM LIKE THAT!” Link slams his hands down and lean towards you threateningly. You lean away, shocked by his outburst. His expression softens as he backs away. His next words are whispered, almost too quiet to hear. “They were heroes. They gave their lives to stop Calamity Ganon. We never could have predicted he would take control of the divine beasts and guardians.” He pushes the bangs out of his face, ruffling his hair in the process.

“I’m sorry ‘we’???” You’re not sure what he’s on about.

Link doesn’t look at you. His bangs fall back in his face, covering his eyes. Without meeting your gaze, he unsheathes his sword.

“Is that–?” You don’t finish your question. The sword has a faint glow, but you can also feel the pure power radiating off of it. There’s only one sword that could be. But that was just a story. A myth that came about after the world fell apart 100 years ago. Surely, this was a trick. Or a strange coincidence?

No. Don’t be foolish. The proof was right in front of you.

Link swings the sword around, putting it back in its sheath. He stands up without another word.

“Hey-!” You jump up. He starts walking away, back to the road, and you need to jog to catch up to him. “Wait up! You can’t just drop that info and leave!”

“I’ve got stuff to do.” He says coldly.

“Yeah, no shit!” You can’t believe it. This was the hero everyone said had failed 100 years ago? Where had he been all this time? Why wasn’t he vanquishing evil or whatever? “If you’re the hero, castle’s in the other direction, my guy! Rescue the princess or whatever and the monster problems we’ve been dealing with will clear up.”

“It’s not that simple.” His hands ball into fists.

“Uhh, pretty sure that blade’s supposed to defeat Calamity Ganon. Go in. Slice his face. Problem solved.”

“I can’t do that yet.” He groans.

“Why not? You’ve got the sword. I saw you fight a dragon and a guardian.” You motion towards the place he had fought the guardian. It’s out of sight now, a few hills between you and the fallen machine, but your point still stands.

“I died! Okay?” Link points to the great plateau. Its cliffs cast a dark shadow in the moonlight. “I spent a century in the Shrine of Resurrection recovering from my last fight against Calamity Ganon. I still haven’t recovered all of my missing memories from before! Without the Divine Beasts, there’s no way I’m winning.”

“Is that what you were doing at Zora’s domain the first time I saw you?” You gasp. “You’re the reason Vah Ruta stopped spouting water everywhere!”

“Yes? Now if you’ll excuse me, I have two more Divine Beasts to free.” He walks faster down the road, trying to put distance between you two. You match his pace.

“You’ll be going after Vah Naboris, right? The Gerudo Desert is this way.” He doesn’t respond. You keep talking. “I don’t usually go into the desert, but some of the Gerudo keep me updated on the Lynels living in the mountains over there. Vah Naboris has been kicking up a sandstorm. With lightning. The only way to get close to it would be to use the Gerudo chief’s lightning-proof hat.”

“Great. I’ll do that.”

“You’ll be turned away at the gate. Gerudo only let women in their city.” You smile smugly. “Let me help.”

“What? Why would I want your help?” Link side-eyes you. “You called my friends and me failures.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You wince. “But what you’re doing is going to save Hyrule. No more Blood Moons. No more monster attacks. Let me help.”

He’s silent for a long time. You continue walking with him. Then, he smiles. He’s not quite sure why, but you remind him of someone.

“Goddesses, you’re stubborn. Fine.”

[yuesya]

The barrier breaks.

It’s too soon. The thought flashes across her mind like lightning. Swift and sudden, without any time to dwell on it; for there is an overwhelming surge of sheer destruction wreaking havoc everywhere –with her standing in the very epicenter of it.

Balor stumbles, as her barrier falls. As it breaks. Far too soon, releasing all the mindless rage and malevolent energies of the god she’d just killed into the world around her. A veritable flood of darkness, with roiling shadows that twist themselves into bestial forms. Simulacrums of the thralls that the Mistress of Dreams had commanded in life, that turn on her and lunge forward viciously.

Exhaustion tugs at her limbs, from both the high expenditure of energy and the backlash from her barrier being forcibly broken. The two factors only serve to compound the lethargy and numbness in her body. It’s been so long since she’d been drained like this, but Balor knows that this is not the time to be showing any weakness. Not now, and not ever–

Her powers have yet to recover–

She cleaves the shadow-beast in front of her in two; but there are claws aimed at her back and three more beasts plunging down from above–

Something crashes into her, bodily knocking her aside. Briefly, the breath is knocked from her lungs.

Balor looks up, only to see a wind spirit crouched above her like a protective guard. The avian spirit’s chest heaves visibly, clearly from its own exhaustion, but sharp gold eyes remain locked on the shadowy enemies circling them. These beasts born from the Mistress of Dreams’ lingering malice are focused on Balor –and yet this wind spirit does not move to escape.

He’s bleeding. Blood drips down from open wounds, and the heat and miasma of it scorch her skin.

Wordlessly, Balor pushes herself upright from the ground. The wind spirit obligingly moves to crouch at her side instead, lowering its head in a deferential bow.

Why?

… She shelves aside the question for now. For all that the wind spirit had formerly been one of the Mistress of Dreams’ thralls, it no longer appeared to be actively hostile, and there were currently far more pressing matters for her to deal with.

Eyeing the prowling shadow-beasts for a moment, Balor takes stock of her surroundings –so many dead humans; so many corpses– and then turns to look up towards the skies instead.

Almost as if on cue, a massive tremor shakes the air. Golden swirls of Geo energy surround the half-dragon entity clashing against a five-headed Hydro serpent, each head hissing with laughter. The half-dragon’s Geo spire is blocked by a twisting pillar of water; shattered pieces of stone go flying everywhere, followed by a deluge of water spilling down from the heavens.

No wonder her barrier broke.

Still, she’s not exactly pleased that apparently two gods decided it was a good idea to start a fight right above her barrier before she’s had a chance to tidy everything up properly. Decarabian had impressed upon her the potential dangers that could occur when a god was slain in combat, so this was…

Balor clicks her tongue.

She lets go of her sword, allowing it to dissipate in a shower of brilliant sparks. A new weapon materializes in her hands instead, a curved bow. Accented with gold and traced with an almost feather-like pattern upon its head, white and indigo hues entwined in harmony. Unlike her sword that is only a simple weapon of mortal steel, the bow radiates power, and even just holding it is enough cause for Anemo energy to begin gathering around her.

As it should.

Balor pulls back the bowstring. A glowing green arrow of pure Anemo condenses beneath her fingertips in the empty space where an arrow should be, and the wind picks up in her surroundings.

She calmly points Decarabian’s bow towards the two gods battling high above, and loosens the arrow; a thousand howling winds instantly fill the skies.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

EXECUTION STYLE

an UNFINISHED DRAFTS entry...

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes, despite all the love, it's never enough. Warnings: cliffhanger. angst. brief mention of shooting. a little plotless. will not continue. A/N: i asked if some of you would want my drafts that i can't for the life of me finish; here's the first entry. (also, hotch is really getting a lot of attention from me lately; his spirit is def doing some witch stuff)

   Blurry vision of red and blue lights slows each motion under the moon's dim luster. You sit at the edge of an ambulance, wrapped in a silver blanket. A maroon jagged line from temple to chin.

  You watch your team reunite in bone-crushing hugs, but an aching tug in your chest brings your lower lip stuck between your teeth. Steamy tears begin to pool in the back of your eyes— unshed.

   "I think we should reevaluate this relationship."

   You straighten up from grogginess to a fully awake state as you turn to Aaron. He swallows at your gaze. A guilty look drains the color of his face.

   "Because I asked you to shoot me, or is it because I didn't blink when I shot you?" A wry smile makes its way to your face. No matter how heartbreaking it is to look at him, you can't bring yourself to do so. You want to see it through. You need to see it through.

   Aaron gulps thickly like a thousand pieces of broken glass are stuck right in his throat, scraping what little strength he has as he fights his will to look into your eyes. "It's part of the job. You had to do what you thought was right."

   "Yeah, right," You scoff, inhaling deeply as if the simple manner of breathing in front of him has become suffocating. "If it was Derek or Emily who pulled the trigger, you would've reprimanded them right on site."

   "The situation was different."

   "No, it wasn't, Aaron."

   Your voice hits like a bee sting. The sound is harsh against his ears. And Aaron knows you're right.

   Cheeky smiles glow up ahead. You know Emily's saying something laugh-worthy to the other members of your team as they gawk at the two of you.

   If only they knew.

   If only they knew it was over.

   If only they knew... Will they still joke about Aaron's smitten affection towards you? Will they still joke about your natural skill to calm Aaron with your presence?

   It's over.

   You have been hit, execution style, straight to the heart.

   "I'll get my things during my lunch break on Monday." You say, shifting your gaze to the herd of profilers that got tired of watching from afar. The closer they get, the brighter you seem.

   The smile on your face shoots an arrow into Aaron's chest. He knows you too well to know it's not genuine. That it's a mark of pain and suffering.

   But it's over.

   Is it?

[adoreeenina]

I wanna be yours - Ch. 1

Relationships: Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet

WC: 2.9k

Series Summary: ~~~ 𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓��𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪.

It’s been a year since the destruction of our home. The ongoing war has been hard on my family, especially on my father. My father gotten worse… cold, stricter, becoming less kind, especially to Neteyam, Lo’ak, and me. He became more like a Drill Sargent than a father. My father made us move to the hidden caves in the Hallelujah Mountains.

Within a year, the sky people expanded, their sizes tripled. My father had orchestrated many raids to destroy their machinery’s to keep them at bay from exploiting our home anymore than they already done. But no matter what my father has done to keep them away, they always bounce back. I’ve seen many ships constantly landing, bringing more people onto our home and more supplies to rebuild on what we broke.

Today my father prepares us for another attack. The supplies train was coming through the train rails not far. My father’s plan was to damage their railway system and take their supplies as our own.

“Do you have to go” Spider walks behind you as you readied your bow and arrow onto Rawm’s saddle.

“Don’t you worry about me. No matter what they throw at me, I always come back, you know that” Spider walks closer to you as he eyes the scars on your body, it went through so much from protecting Spider and your siblings.

Despite what you tell him, he still feels guilty, and it didn’t help that Neytiri blames him.

“That’s what I’m worried about” Spider softly says as he pats Rawm’s neck. Rawm chirps loving the attention.

You finally turn to look down at Spider. You knew Spider is worried about you. How could he not? You were always getting yourself into trouble and coming back with blood on you. You’re worse than Lo’ak, at least that’s what Jake says.

“Spider” you gently place your hand on his shoulder, making him look up at you.

“I promise you. I’ll come back in one piece” you promise with an encouraging smile. Spider couldn’t help but smile back with a nod.

“Y/n, let’s go” Jake calls for you. You sigh as you turn to check you have everything. You do.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back” with that, you bend a knee, placing your foot on Rawm’s harness, pulling yourself up onto his saddle, making Tsaheylu. The bond.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you” you smirk down at Spider as you lower your Rider’s Mask. With a loud yip, Rawm allows himself fall off the ledge.

Ikran’s screech and roars all around you as Rawm fly’s behind Jake and Neytiri. Many of the warriors hooting and ululating, including your mother.

Following close behind, squinting your eyes through the Rider’s mask, you could mask out the fast moving train.

“Ground team, go” you hear Jake speak through the comm.

Hundreds of warriors on direhorses come flooding through the forest, letting out loud war cries. Some carrying bow and arrows while others are armed with heavy artillery.

An explosion went off on the railway, perfectly timed. Part of the track has blown up, the train screeches as it nails its breaks, an attempt to stop, but the destruction was far to close.

The train couldn’t stop in time, colliding to the broken rail railroad, breaking it into pieces and parts of it falling on its side. The two gunships halted a turn. You knew you had to work fast, before they would call for backup to arrive.

Guiding Rawm to one of the gunships with a loud cry. You dove underneath the ship to its left side, readying your bow, you aim to the soldiers chest, killing him. Rawm flys above ship, quickly aiming your bow and arrow, you shoot an arrow, letting it break through the glass and to the pilot, killing him instantly. You let out a holler as you watch the gunship crash down with an explosion.

With that, many the Na’vi below got to work exploiting the scattered RDA cargo. You watched from above for any more incoming airships.

“Let’s go. Two minutes, people. Let’s go.” You hear Jake.

“Bro, we have got to get down there” you hear Lo’ak. You turn to see your two idiot younger brothers, riding close behind you. A mischievous glint in eye, a look that you knew well.

“No way!” Neteyam calls back.

“Dad will skin you alive” you warn.

“Come on. Don’t be wusses” Lo’ak challenges. with that, Lo’ak guides his Ikran to the ground.

“Lo’ak! Get back here, you… Argh!” Neteyam grunts, watching our younger brother

“Damn it, Lo’ak” you yell after your brother. You turn to Neteyam before he could follow your idiot brother.

“Neteyam, go with mom. I’ll get Lo’ak” you tell him. Neteyam hesitates before glancing down at Lo’ak.

“But-“

“Go!” Neteyam hisses under his breath before listening to you and leaves to the other way. You rather take the blame than let Neteyam take the fall for it.

“Taking the whole case! We’re taking mags, the RPGs, the stingers”

You follow close behind Lo’ak as you both land. You hop off of Rawm as you disconnect the bond.

“Y/n, let’s go. Come on!” Lo’ak calls for you before running towards the the rest of the people.

“Lo’ak!” you hiss as you quickly run close behind him.

“Move! Take that!” You hear Tarsem as he hands out RPGs. Lo’ak runs in line, waiting his turn to grab a gun.

“Tarsem don’t-“ before you could stop him, he already handed Lo’ak a gun. Damn it.

“Take these weapons. Here, boy. Go!” Lo’ak excitedly let out a war cry as he walks away with a gun in his hands.

“Lo’ak!” You were getting tired of calling for him. You started sounding like a fucking parrot, the animal you’ve seen on one of the movies Spider has shown you.

You cut off Lo’ak’s ululating as you grab him by his arm, pulling him towards you.

“You don’t even know how to use it” you nod your head towards the gun, visibly irritated.

Lo’ak looks at you with a smirk as he held up the gun, loading the chamber.

“Dad taught me”

You sigh feeling irritated as you watch Lo’ak pick the gun up to look through the scope.

“Stop that! That is not a toy” you hiss. Lo’ak is really testing your patience, you really want to smack him upside the head.

Not far from where you’re at, you hear a spotter hollers out, a signal.

“Gunships inbound! Fall back!” You hear Jake yell.

You look up seeing two more gunships aiming. Shooting.

“Lo’ak, Go!” You push him in front you, running towards your Ikran’s.

“Y/n, come on!” Lo’ak calls for you.

“I’m right behind you! Go! Hurry!”

You look behind and see one of the gunships aiming at you.

“Lo’ak!” You push Lo’ak, just when they shot at you, setting an explosion off. The impact threw you off. You fall with a grunt. Feeling lightheaded from the impact, you reach to touch your head, feeling blood. Shit.

Jake runs through the debris and broken parts of the train, looking for you and Lo’ak. No matter how bad the relationship between you and him. You’re still his daughter.

“Lo’ak, where are you?” Jake calls out, his eyes squints as he tries to see through the smoke.

“Y/n!” He calls out for you. Jake hears coughing and a dark figure and quickly runs towards it. Seeing it’s Lo’ak, he reaches for him.

“Easy, easy, you okay?” Jake softly tries to comfort him. Lo’ak is still in shock but none the less nods

“Yeah”

“Where’s your sister?” Jake hurriedly ask.

“That way” Lo’ak points at a direction.

“Where is she? Where?” Jake follows the direction on where he pointed.

“Get outta here! Go on!” Jake demands, climbs on top of the destroyed gunship seeing a trail of blood.

“Y/n!” Jake calls. He looks . His heart beating rapidly.

“Shit” you cough out.

“Oh no” Jake whispers, he follows the trail and jumps down from the ship. He sees a dead Na’vi on the laying face down. “Oh, no, no, no” he leans down to check the body, seeing it’s not you.

“Oh god” Jake breathes. He hears your coughing. He notices your body not far. He runs and jumps over a rock, kneeling down over you.

You’re laying on your stomach, Jake gently moves you on your back. You groan, the pain going from 0 to 100. You hiss feeling a burning sensation on your back.

“Y/n” Jake says softly.

“Dad?” You cough out, seeing Jake holding you.

Jake grabs you by your shoulder to sit you up and looks over your shoulder, seeing multiple burns and cuts on your back. You hiss from the movement as Jake lays you back down.

“What are you doing here, Y/n?” Jake growls as you cough. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Dad, can we not-“ you reply weakly.

Jake stands up as he pulls you by your arm and puts your body over his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys, and you call ‘em in. From a distance” Jake growled angrily at you. “Does any of this sound familiar? Get in here!” Jake tells Lo’ak, who was standing by his Ikran, away from our father wrath. Jake is once again acting like a Drill Sargent rather than a father.

You glare at the ground as Jake berates you. He’s pissed. You never cared of his constant piss show. You did what you had to do, and that’s to protect your brother, and you did. You’ll take pride to it, despite what they’ll tell you. You won’t feel guilty or small by your fathers anger.

You turn to your left feeling someone’s hands on you, seeing Kiri. She looks at your back with a grim look. She gently reaches to touch your back, you grab her hand to pull her away.

“Jesus. I let you three geniuses fly a mission and you disobey a direct orders” Jake scolds you. You once again push Kiri’s hands away when you felt her touch a tender wound.

“Kiri, can you go help your grandmother with the wounded? Please?” Jake says with a softer tone.

“My sister is wounded” Kiri points out, unamused by Jake’s behavior towards you. This isn’t new, Kiri is familiar with how Jake treats you, and she hates it.

“It’s fine, Kiri” you reassure her.

“Baby girl, please. Tuk, go with her. Go.” Jake demands softly. Tuk and Kiri leaves with huff sigh.

“Dad” you call. Jake turns and gives you a hard look. You look back with a glare. Out of all your siblings, you’re the only one who’s not afraid to fight back.

“I’m not going to apologize for this. I’ll admit I went against orders and I’ll take full responsibility for that but-“ Jake cuts you off before you can’t continue, making you clench your jaw.

“Yeah, you do. That’s right. ‘Cause you’re the oldest. You gotta act like it” Jake scolds. Your upper lips twitch with a small snarl you let out towards Jake. Jake glares, challenging you.

“Ma’Jake” Neytiri softly calls. Jake reluctantly turns away from you to look at Neytiri. “Your daughter is actually bleeding”

“I am fine, mother” you turn to glare at Jake. “Not like you care” with out being dismissed by him, you roughly bump your shoulder against his.

“Hey! We’re not done talking!” Jake yells after you, but you ignore him as you went to see Mo’at, your grandmother. Neytiri gives Jake a look as she follows close behind you, not before looking at Lo’ak with a knowing look.

“Neteyam, go with them” Jake dismisses his oldest son. Neteyam gives Lo’ak a look before following you.

Jake sighs before looking at Lo’ak, placing his hands on his military vest.

“You do understand that you almost got your sister killed” Jake lowly says.

“Yes sir” Lo’ak nods.

“You’re grounded. No flying for a month” Jake says. Lo’ak looks down, feeling disappointed. He sometimes wish he had the courage to fight back like you did. Lo’ak Unwilling accepts the punishment, not wanting to anger him.

“Now, see to the Ikran. All of em” Jake demands.

“Yes sir” Lo’ak nods.

“And get that crap off your face” Jake demands before leaving.

“Ow. Ow!” You wince as Mo’at works on your back. Spreading the mixed herbs over your wounds.

“Aww, want a kiss on the boo-boo?” Spider teases.

“Shut up” you playfully place your fingers into a bowl with mixed herbs and flick your fingers at him.

“Hey!” Spider laughs.

“Enough!” Mo’at scolds you. A few feet away from you, Kiri is doing another batch of mixed herbs, tasting it with a hum of approval.

Since the arrival of the sky people, your grandmother been teaching Kiri as well but you’re still to be the next Tsáhik and wed to Tarsem. Your grandmother says it’s for the best, but you think bullshit. You know your grandmother is against your father’s mistreatment of you, she assumed if she lays off responsibilities, it’ll give you a break. It somewhat did.

“Give her this” Kiri instructed as she hands the cup to Tuk.

“Okay”

“I would use yalna bark” Kiri mentions to you and your grandmother.

“Here drink” Tuk instructs you. You nodded softly, gratefully smiling at her before taking a sip.

“Ugh” you stick your tongue out, gelling revolted by the taste. Spider laughs at your reaction.

“Oh, you would? And who is Tsahik?” Mo’at says.

“You are, grand… move!” Kiri begins to speak before pushing Lo’ak and Neteyam out of her way. “You are, grandmother. But yalna bark is better.” Kiri argues softly.

“Ow, ow! Ow.” You wince, feeling your grandmother spread more on your back.

“She’s right, grandmother. It stings less” you mention with a wince. Kiri sighs, she hates seeing you in pain, hates seeing you always coming home with a new wound.

“My sister is a mighty warrior!” Neteyam snickers, making fun of your pain.

“Screw you” you curse at Neteyam.

“No cursing” your grandmother chastises before lightly hits your head.

“Ow”

Neytiri looks into the tent, with a disdain look on her face. This is one of many times you’ve been in the healing tent, and she hated every single one. She felt lost, she hated seeing you in so much pain, and the worst part is… you won’t even come to her for comfort like you used to. Since that argument about Spider, she had lost you. And she no one else to blame but herself, for letting her distaste of Spider her the best of her.

Neytiri glance over her shoulder, seeing Jake solely focusing on his guns, it angers Neytiri. You got hurt. Yes, you were okay, but you and your siblings are in the tent. He hardly gave glances at the tent from where he’s sitting.

“What?” Jake sighs, feeling Neytiri’s glare.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak try to live up to you. Y/n despises you” Neytiri starts. She finally turns to look at Jake. “It is very hard on them”

“I know” Jake doesn’t bother making eye contact with Neytiri.

“No. I don’t think you do…” Neytiri moves closer and knelt down close to him. “You are very hard on them. On Y/n”

“I’m their father. It’s my job.” Jake says, finally turning to look at Neytiri with a hard stare.

“This is not a squad. It is a family” Neytiri says softly/sternly. “We almost lost our daughter today”

Jake sighs, he looks away before making eye contact with Neytiri. He finally places the gun down. It’s been hard on for the last of couple years, more since the sky people arrived. He almost lost you, and he didn’t know how he would’ve felt losing you. It’s one thing acting like strangers but another when he almost lost you.

“I thought I lost them. I thought I lost Y/n” Jake whispers. His eyes big, watery and filled with so much pain. Neytiri sighs softly before reaching out for Jake’s hand

“Hey” Spider softly calls you.

You’re in your own Kelku once your grandmother finished on your wounds. You were carving an arrow when you heard Spider’s light footsteps enter.

“Hey” you smile as you place your arrow and hunting knife besides you.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to check on you” you notice how Spider fidgets with his hands. You have a feelings on what’s really bothering him. You sigh as you stood up.

“Spider… I’m fine” you tell him softly, you place your hand on his dreads.

“But you could’ve…” Spider couldn’t finish his sentence, he couldn’t bare the thought of losing you.

“Look at me” you kneel down, you grab the bottoms of his mask and gently pick his head up. Spider’s eyes were red and watery.

“Oh Spider” you pull him into your chest, hugging him. Spider instantly wraps his arms around your midsection, hugging tightly. Spider couldn’t hold back his sobs. You gently shush him.

“I promised I would be back. Didn’t I?” You try to lighten the mood, you try to pull away to look at him but Spider resists, not wanting to let you go.

“Spider. You are my heart, my soul, my world, my best friend, and my everything” you promise softly.

“I love you, Y/n” Spider muffled voice say. You softly smile as you lean down and peck his hair.

“I love you brother”

Previous | Next

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! This part contains sensitive topics (one mention of miscarriage (not Xi) & Non-con touch)

~

Part 16- Li'ona

Scanning the interior of their home, Neteyam felt sick to his stomach. His eyes burned, prickling at the sight of its ransacked state.

It was almost disbelieving at first.

But reality slowly sank in with every passing glance as he stayed frozen at the threshold.

When bile finally threatened to make its way up his throat, he forcefully tore his gaze away from the crimson pool on the tapestry covered flooring. He didn’t want to think about where the blood came from- what caused it- or more importantly, whose it was.

None of it was real…right?

Please, Eywa.

Arriving back at Home Camp in an already frantic state, Neteyam had instantly noticed a change in the air. The energy was off- fear and panic replacing the usual calm peace of the Omatikaya clan. Ignoring it, along with the abnormal flurry of activities surrounding him, he’d hurriedly made his way straight for his tent, bypassing the clan members who lingered outside of his home in worry.

The sight he was greeted by caused him such utter distress, he almost collapsed, catching himself on a beam at the entrance- a heartbreaking cry of anguish falling from his lips.

Their mainroom was a scattered mess consisting of strewn cushions and blankets, torn and shredded tapestries and decor hangings, broken knickknacks that Xi had once carefully littered around their home. Baskets, chests, cracked clay bowls, pots and food sacks were all haphazardly knocked over- their contents either spilling out or completely missing.

Their personal food stock and quite a few other possessions were obviously stolen. The grand bamboo stand that housed his wide collection of weapons ranging from knives, daggers, specially crafted arrows and spears- was a splintered heap of broken pieces- all gone now, save a few smaller daggers.

And the bedroom- fuck…He wished he hadn’t mustered the strength to enter the space.

Their bedroom was just as bad- worse in his opinion.

It reeked of blood.

His little tech setup in the corner was completely destroyed- tiny parts smashed as if someone had a personal vendetta against the human-made devices.

And when he spotted the shredded strips of blankets stained crimson with a blood coated dagger abandoned between the sheets, his legs finally gave out- knees colliding hard with the floor beneath him.

Body shaking uncontrollably, a sob escaped him.

Why?

Tears of fury slowly stained his cheeks as his chin trembled.

Why?

It was too much.

Why?

He couldn’t do this.

WHY?

He was breaking- on the verge of hysteria.

WHY?

His mind screamed blame. It was all his fault.

Why did you leave her?

The knife.

What have you done?

The blood.

Look at all the fucking blood!

All him.

Why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?

Gone.

She’s gone.

Xilä.

She needed you and now she’s gone.

He jumped when a hand of comfort squeezed his shoulder- breaking him from his spiralling thoughts.

“Come on son, up you get. Let’s- let’s take a breather from in here,” Jxo’s gravelly voice soothed.

Helpless, Neteyam allowed the elder to pull him to his feet, staggering in a daze as they made their way through the shambles of his home.

Once outside, he sucked in a much needed breath of fresh air. Air that wasn’t suffocatingly stifling him with its coppery fumes.

He collapsed again, sitting heavily this time onto the last of the stone steps- physically unable to make it any further. His head fell into the cradle of his palms, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs.

He sensed his father-in-law’s presence near him- knew he was probably giving him a moment to pull himself together. Neteyam felt it though, the worry and anxiety rolling off of Jxo in waves.

But how could he face the man? He’d failed his daughter- he’d failed Xilä.

“Jxo,” he eventually croaked, hands falling away as he tried to formulate a sentence. He swallowed hard to stifle another incoming sob. “Jxo, tell me she’s not- I- ” chin trembling, he shook his head in disbelief.

Was he going crazy?

Was this all some fucked up nightmare?

He made the mistake of looking up. Jxo’s distraught expression was all the confirmation he needed. The elder looked ragged and seemed to have aged even further in the short span of time Neteyam had last seen him.

Gaze softening, Jxo squeezed his shoulder again, crouching down to his level to face him head on. “Kid, listen to me, okay? We can’t fall apart, not right now. Our Xilä…she- she needs us,” the elder said, almost as if he were trying to convince even himself of his own words. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded. He needed to hear those words. Jaw clenched, he forced himself to get a grip on his emotions. But the clear head he was searching for only intensified the swirling rage inside of him.

He wanted to scream.

To lash out.

To kill.

A voice calling out his name made them both get to their feet, expectantly. Jake strode towards them, brushing past a few onlookers- Gwuyle flanking him. The second-in-command barked at the growing crowd, making them clear the area, for which Neteyam was grateful.

He didn’t miss the subtle head shake Jake sent to Jxo however. He guessed that meant they hadn’t found his mate yet.

“Son are you-” The Olo'eyktan’s speech was cut off when his eldest shrugged his arm off, not wanting to be touched. Jake was expecting the reaction. The hurt and betrayed glare Neteyam sent him was justified. Lo’ak had already prepared him for the wrath to come. “Son I get that you’re upset, but-”

“Upset? Upset? Oh no, I think I'm more than goddam upset! She’s gone dad! My mate is GONE!” he screeched hysterically. “Tell me, exactly who’s bright fucking idea was it not to call me? Huh? Huh?”

Jxo pulled him back from advancing any further.

But Neteyam was too far gone.

He gestured to the open flap of his home, “Did you have a good look for yourself? Did you see? You must have seen what I saw…I don’t get it, sir. The moment you saw this you should have called me! You should’ve-” Neteyam sucked in a deep breath, wiping his palms down his face in not only frustration but utter despair.

His father-in-law murmured soft words that fell on deaf ears to the other two men, calming his temper in a way Jake wished he could in that moment.

He felt pained as he stared at his son, it was a parent's worst nightmare to see their child so distraught. It hurt him to see him so broken- unhinged to the point of feral. He exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Jxo who stood by Neteyam’s side. The elder was never in agreement with him, keeping Neteyam in the dark about Xilä.

“It was my call,” Jake admitted, owning up to his fault. “But you need to understand, there was a palulukan attack…two males managed to make it past the southern border- it seems they were leered. By the time we had it handled and found out about Xi, I- I thought we’d find her…you’re right, I should have called you. I know.”

His son’s shoulders slumped- the fight leaving him as he absorbed his father’s explanation. “Well shit. An attack? Was anyone hurt?” he asked, albeit a bit distractedly.

“At least twenty severely injured, a couple others not as bad…three deaths as far as we know. The healers have their hands full right now.”

Silence filled the atmosphere.

All four men internally digested the reality of the situation- the echoing of Jake’s words lingering in the air.

Neteyam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “Okay. Okay- um, where are we with the search, sir?” He felt a stab of guilt for glossing over the attack, but there was only one thing on his mind right now, and that was finding his wife. He’d have to process everything else some other time.

“We’ve got twelve units still out searching- your mother has a team headed to the Hallelujah Mountains. Each of the border points are being covered as every tent, shack, shed and lab gets inspected- every nook and cranny will be searched. Lo’ak’s with Norm at the labs as we speak. They're checking the inferred maps hoping we could pick up on any unusual activity- the bad news with that is it only covers our territory. We’re trying to find some sort of trace for the direction they went before we move the search past the borderlines of the forest. Messengers were also sent to the nearest clans to keep a lookout.”

“Li’ona. That’s where he’s taking her. That’s where we need-”

“We don’t know that for sure, do we?”

“Exactly and why would he even go there? Don’t those savages want them dead?” Gwuyle frowned.

“Yes, but T'shteyo has threatened to take Xi back to Li’ona with him- she said he wants to return to his title.”

Gwuyle, Jake and Jxo shared matching grim expressions.

“What?” Neteyam asked, reading their body language all too well. “What are you not telling me?”

“You know Stephan right?”

“The weird techie?” Neteyam frowned at his father.

“Yeah…he’s missing, well his Avatar body that is. And so too that old RDA aircraft he used to fiddle around with,” Jake admitted uncomfortably. “It’s not like him to be gone for so long… We believe T'shteyo may have taken him hostage. Max is trying to get communication running with the ship to confirm.”

Neteyam scoffed disbelievingly. He wanted to cry all over again. “Are you saying…are you saying they’re flying in an aircraft as we speak….and you’re only fucking telling me this now?!” he seethed, taking a step forward, shaking off the Jxo’s hand from holding him back.

“Watch your tone son,” Jake snapped.

“Look, Teyam, we don’t know this for sure, okay? But we will find out…I thought he was just a primitive bastard, it seems we’ve all misjudged T'shteyo. I know I have,” Gwuyle said, trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to head back and see if there’s been any updates. Call me if you have any news, Jake.”

When it was just the three of them left, Neteyam hung his head. “I should have killed him. I-”

Jake stepped forward and hugged his son. Neteyam resisted at first but it didn’t take much coaxing before he sagged against his dad, accepting the much needed comfort.

“I can’t begin to understand what you are feeling right now, but I need you to know, we are going to do everything possible to get Xilä back.”

~

“Neteyam. Jake,” Max greeted when they entered the link shack. The scientist sent a respectful nod to Jxo when he saw him follow them in as well.

“Anything yet? Stephan?” Jake asked, eyes immediately locking with the link unit that housed Stephan’s human form.

“Unfortunately no. Since the assumption is that he’s most likely piloting, we don’t want his Avatar shutting down right now. His vitals are all over the place though- he’s injured,” Max informed them, showing them the rapidly moving numbers and lines on the clear glass screen bedside the bed, “head wound, probably concussed.”

The room fell silent as they all took in the scientist's information.

“Well shit,” Lo’ak said, breaking said silence as he and Norm made their way over to the group from the connected lab.

“GPS? Where are we with that?”

Max grimaced. “It’s definitely busted. Greta over there is trying to see what she can do, and Phillip here, is trying to reactivate the chip that was once embedded in all the Avatars- if all else fails.”

“Chip?” Jxo frowned.

“Microchip. We can track Stephan if we’re able to reactivate it-”

“What is taking so long then?” Neteyam asked impatiently. He hated standing around. He felt like they were losing time. “I know where they are going already! Back to Li’ona, I don’t see why any of this matters. Why can’t we just go?” he asked his father for the second time.

“I can maybe answer that,” Norm replied quickly as glided on a wheeled stool. “Come check this out you guys,” he said, furiously typing on a keyboard.

A large holographic map appeared and Neteyam instantly recognized it as the same one Norm had shown him and Xi before.

“Li’ona is massive okay? Not the clan per say, but the land they occupy. It’s called D’asanii I know,” he said, nervously glancing at the menacing looking, arms folded Jxo, who was looming over him, “but we named it Little Aussie- as in it’s almost the freakin’ size of Australia,” he emphasized, widening the map so they’d see for themselves. “But the Deadlands in particular is where we have the trouble.”

“I do not see the issue here. Our lands are far larger, what about the Metkayina, they own most of the seas, no? You have found them easily before, and even other clans, your lot have done hundreds of studies on Pandora for Eywa sake! What is so different? Are you honestly telling me that none of our people know how to find their clan?! Do we have all this technology for nothing?! How about our elders? Have none of them ever ventured that far?”

Norm made a noise in the back of his throat as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Bud. I get it, and you’re right. But unfortunately we don’t have that information right now. I did thorough research when I was investigating the rains. We just don’t have it…Xi couldn’t even point out where on the map her clan could possi-”

“They are not her clan!” Neteyam roared.

“No- no, of course not,” Norm pacified quickly, nervously shooting Jake a pleading glance.

“Neteyam-”

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry. Just- just finish what you were saying,” he said tiredly, forefinger and thumb working at his temple.

“Look, all I’m saying is, I get that we’re in a time crunch here. I do- but…we don’t even know where to begin to start looking. If we can just wait to get a ping from either the GPS or the Microchip- we’d have something to work with instead of blindly going past the borders to search.”

“It would help yeah but technically we wouldn’t even need it,” Lo’ak pitched in. “If Stephan wakes before then, he could easily tell us what we need to know…what we’re up against.”

“Sure but do we even know for sure if it’s Li’ona they’re actually heading t-” Max caught himself, swallowing deeply before muttering a quiet apology when Neteyam cut him with a glare.

“I told you all already…it’s Li’ona! He’s taking her there. Why do I feel like I am the only one thinking logically right now?! You’re all fucking over complicating things!” Neteyam barked, patience wearing thin. “Standing around and spewing a shit ton of jargon that’s not doing anything to help the situation. Let me and a team head out for now, you can always direct us from there and we’d have covered significant grou-”

“No.”

All eyes turned to the Olo'eyktan.

“Neteyam. I know this is the last thing you want to hear,” Jake said, eyes pleading for his son to understand, “but they’re right about this. We need to be smart about the moves we’re making right now. We need intel.”

“Think about Xilä, bro,” Lo’ak chimed in, trying to help out, unaware that his words did more harm than good.

“Don’t you dare,” Neteyam seethed. “She is all I am thinking about!” he hissed. “I need-” he stepped back, the faces of the men gathered around turning blurry. “None of you could possibly understand what I am going through right now…none! And I am this close from blowing my fuse. So I am going to step away before I say, or do something I regret.”

~

“Listen you barbaric lunatic, I am telling you, if you do this, they’ll kill you, alright? Jake and Neteyam won’t let you get away with this. You're as good as dead. Just-” Stephan sighed tiredly, “just let me drop you off somewhere, dude. I’ll take Xilä back and convince them not to come after you. Can you- OWW shhhiiit!” The man’s speech was cut short when he was clobbered on the back of his head.

The junk of a ship they were currently being flown in, dipped, rocking shakily before it stabilized once more when Stephan scrambled to adjust a few settings on the holographic dashboard.

“Jesus fucking Christ! You fucking psycho! I am trying to safely fly us in an already unstable aircraft right now! An aircraft that requires not one, but two goddam pilots! Do you really want to kill the only person on board who can operate this hunk of junk! Hit me again. Hit me, I dare you, fucker. I swear to God I’ll crash us right now!” Stephan threatened, tail thrashing angrily behind him. “I'm pretty sure I’m already concussed from when you knocked me unconscious.”

T'shteyo, “the fucker” who had hit him, paid the dreamwalker no mind. “You talk too much,” he complained, dropping himself into a seat with a pained grunt.

Fiddling with a small pouch of highly scented medicinal herbs, a needle and thread and a damp strip of fabric, he began to tend to his still bleeding shoulder.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Stephan who shot him a smug look. “Xilä fucked up up real bad, huh? Broken nose, face scratched to shit, and icing on top of the cake- stab wound.”

“Quiet!”

Stephan snorted with a shake of his head. “Your own daughter stabbed you…don’t you think that’s messed up?”

“I said, SHUT UP.”

The silence lasted barely five minutes before Stephan was blabbering again- although he did specifically wait until T'shteyo had begun to sew himself up.

“So, I get that you want to go back to Li’ona, but uh, why? The rumor mill said you were a wanted dead man over there. Why the change of heart?” the Avatar asked, trying to gain as much information from the man so he could report back if he had the opportunity.

He grinned at the pissed off look on the Li’ona male’s face. “Come ooon dude. You’re going to kill me anyway right? Who am I going to tell?”

“Do you ever stop speaking?”

“I promise I will…if you answer me. Scouts honor,” he said, holding up three of his four fingers, confusing T'shteyo even further. Stephen found it somewhat amusing that the bastard was now staring at him as if he were the lunatic.

“I am going to reclaim my title.”

Stephan stifled his surprise that he actually got a response. “Cool, cool, cool. Leadership shit. I get it……But see not really, why not just go? I mean, why’d you have to drag your kid back with you?” he pushed again, mentally crossing all his fingers and toes.

“She gets me the title.”

“Oooo-kay…how?”

“Su’ko wants her.”

“Su’ko?”

T'shteyo begrudgingly told him about man, and all the while Stephan had to hide his disgust over the fact that was another psychopath out there just like the fucker, next to him.

This had him shifting uncomfortably now. Quickly glancing at the man seated in the pilot's chair beside him he hesitantly asked, “So this Su’ko wants her?” he swallowed. “Wants her for what?”

“His whore or slave…whichever.”

The Avatar clenched his teeth to keep from saying something he’d regret- to keep from messing up the progress he’d made so far.

“What’d she ever do to you?” he couldn’t help asking, voice far softer than the faux carefree one he’d been forcing before. “Why would you do this to her? She’s just a kid.”

“Enough!” T'shteyo roared. In a flash the tip of his knife met Stephan’s throat, threateningly sinking deep enough to draw blood.

Stephan froze, both hands held up in surrender. “Alright! Alright. Chill out man, I’m done.”

“Show me again!”

“I will just- will you drop the fucking knife, I can’t think.” He released a loud breath when T'shteyo sank back into his seat.

“Show me!”

“Okay, hold on, I’m getting it…Here- see, still on track for Li’ona,” the Avatar said, pulling up a screen on the dashboard that showed the small diagram of a map of Pandora and the illuminated coordinates they were currently heading to.

He was damn sure T'shteyo couldn’t read an ounce of English or even “human numbers” but it didn’t mean he was stupid. The asshole had enough sense to explain where he wanted to go, even showing him on the map what routes to take.

“Good,” the psycho grunted.

Stephan let the silence run for well over an hour this time before he tried to speak again.

“So that last question I asked- about Xilä…that was my final question. I swear I’ll shut up if you answer...colour me curious as to why a father would do this to his own blood…To what would drive a man to such decisions.”

T'shteyo unseeingly sighed as if he were a mother dealing with a petulant child, it was almost comical, given the situation. “What does it matter to you, why? I am going to kill you anyway. It serves you no purpose.”

“Well,” the Avatar laughed depressingly, “all the more reason right? If I’m dead, who am I going to tell? Think of it as my death gift.”

The Li’ona male stared out at the flashing sea of greenery below them as he considered the man’s question. He surprised Stephan for the second time when he actually responded.

“She is the product of hate…Xilä is- she is a constant reminder of the woman I once called, my mate…she,” he inhaled, “looks exactly like her,” he whispered, “beautiful, fair…but poisonous.”

“Poisonous?”

T'shteyo grunted a yes before continuing, “Muiä.” He snorted, “fair…Odd that she was nothing like the meaning of her name. There was nothing fair about Muiä besides her appearance, I suppose.”

“What was she really like then?”

“She was a coward…and before that, she was a constant nag…and a whore. Nothing ever made her happy- no matter what I did…Her father was Olo'eyktan before me. I fought. I won. It was me!

“Me, who claimed her. Me who claimed my rightful title. But it was she who was my downfall… She, who loved another…I never had her heart. I tried, I did everything…anything! But in doing that, she made me soft, weak.”

T'shteyo’s face turned stony, darkening at whatever memory haunted him.

“And then I found them. Together….Still? Even when she was already mine! They were planning to run away together,” he laughed maniacally, “....so I killed him…I killed her fucking lover. Strung him up for all to see that I was not to be trifled with. After that she learned her place, or at least I thought so.

“She behaved for a few years…and then Xilä eventually came along. I thought I did good, I thought she was finally happy. We were a family. But no. Even a child didn’t make the bitch happy……She still left. She still left me. Muiä’s out there, probably cursing my name as we speak. I should have strung her up with her lover…missed opportunity I suppose,” he mused.

Stephen, who was silent the entire time, too stunned to speak, swallowed deeply. Feeling disturbed, he adjusted a few settings on the dashboard, before responding shakily.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “so, you’re punishing Xilä…because- because you couldn’t punish your wife? Xilä has to pay?” Stephan frowned, not understanding, angry at himself for feeling a sliver of pity for the psychotic man next to him.

T'shteyo shrugged lazily. “If you put it that way…Now shut up. The next time you speak, I cut off your tongue.”

~

When Xilä had first woken to find herself curled in a corner of a strange, rocking room, she was a loopy, drooling mess. It took her almost two hours to gain her bearings and sit up, and another one to even stand on shaking legs.

The small rocking room had a large window. When she’d finally made her way to it, she released a ragged choking scream.

It was all coming back now.

The attack.

The stabbing.

The syringe.

The screams.

LI’ONA.

She was already scared and confused, but now- finding herself being flown away…she began to hyperventilate.

Li’ona! Her father was taking her back to Li’ona.

No!

Thumping steps alerted her that someone was coming.

Xilä turned feral the second T'shteyo entered the small space. With what little strength she had, she clawed and lashed out at the man who had taken her from her home- the man she called father.

It was no use however, one hurtling blow had her crumbling into a whimpering heap once more.

In a daze, she barely felt herself being dragged through a short narrow tunnel, until she faintly heard the furious and raged shouts of an unfamiliar voice.

“No! You’re going to kill her! If you give her that amount, she’ll be dead in seconds, you sick fu-”

Xi most definitely knew she imagined the howl of pain from her father being struck by someone else- the rocking room spinning the world away- body sliding along the cold metal flooring.

A muted scuffle of two blurring blue shapes played out before her while a trickle of liquid slowly flowed down her cheek, drops tickling the corner of her mouth.

“Blood,” she vaguely thought when the droplet found her tongue.

She didn’t fight when her father came near- she didn’t fight when he pricked her neck with another one of those lab darts- mind swimming as she felt that floating feeling again.

And she didn’t fight it when she felt herself sink into the darkness- head lulling until she went still.

~

“How’s Sal?” Neteyam asked hoarsely, eyes avoiding the abandoned meal in his lap. His mother had forced it into hands two hours ago and yet, it remained untouched. He couldn’t eat.

How could he?

He felt like a shell of a man.

Practically numb- void of feeling anything but simmering anger.

“Not good,” Jxo replied. “Wrecked. There’s no consoling her right now...D’av-” he cleared his throat, “D’avi’s with her, doing what she can.”

How could Neteyam possibly respond to that?

“You know, she’s always wanted another child…damn near almost did…three times. It wasn’t meant to be I suppose…But then you came that night, told us all about Xi, said she needed a safe place to stay, and I knew- I saw it in Sal’s face that night. And when you brought her the next day, well, that just sealed the deal. She was going to be ours, no matter what.”

Neteyam stared at Jxo’s profile. “I remember you told me that I had no clue what I did for Sal…”

Jxo nodded. “You brought home our second chance- a daughter. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, or if it even makes sense at all or if…but I felt it. I feel it in my soul. Not at first- not like Sal, but over time, some days I’d look at her and I’d- I’d feel the same way I did with my D’av. It felt like she was mine. My kid.”

“It makes sense, Jxo. It does…She felt it too, you know. It scared her. She didn't want to get attached. She’d- Xi told me once she pretended sometimes. Pretended you and Sal were her parents…she’d laugh it off and say she was just being silly. Then I’d see the three of you together and I knew she didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to pretend.”

Jxo released a hushed laugh, covertly brushing away an escaped teardrop. “Ah that kid…” he cleared his throat. “She’s coming home, son. She is.”

Neteyam nodded mutely, head falling backwards, landing with a THUMP against the metal railing of the Link Shack’s staircase. He was reclined on a step, mindlessly staring out whatever he could see of the clan.

He’d been seated there for probably hours now. No one had disturbed at him at first except his mother. The others were too scared to be on the receiving end of another one of his outbursts he supposed.

Upon her arrival back from her search, Neytiri tenderly kissed his forehead, sad eyes conveying all meaning as she handed him a simple wrapped meal before heading through the door behind him.

Jxo came out a half hour ago to keep him company. Both sitting in silence until Neteaym had broken it by asking about his mother-in-law.

“How are you holding up, son? And don’t give me that bullshit you’ve been giving your mother. I want the truth.”

A small smile graced Neteyam’s lips, falling away just as fast. “The truth…”

“Can’t keep it all bottled up. It’s going to eat you alive.”

“I think I’m falling apart, but I know I need to hold it together…I’m pissed…and angry…at everyone. She needed our help, and we weren’t- I’m mostly angry at myself though…If I had just been here, Jxo. If I hadn't left…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “And now,” he continued, puffy, red rimmed gaze peering at his father-in-law, “we’re doing nothing. Nothing, just- just sitting here while she-”

Fists balled on top his thighs, Neteyam shook in fury- emotions rolling and changing in waves.

“Li’ona, we need to head for Li’ona and no one is fucking listening to me! We’re wasting time, Jxo. Anything could be happening to her right now. I try not to let my imagination and fears run wild, but God-”

He rubbed his face, head bowed in distress.

“And they won’t let me leave! They won’t let me try! Why won’t you let me try? It’s been so long now, Jxo. I- I just want her home. I want her safe…So, no. I’m not holding up at all,” he finished.

Almost six hours ago he had tried and failed to make his way out of the clan. When he’d left the labs after his last outburst, he’d had enough. He was tired of waiting. He was going to get his woman dammit.

But Gwuyle had stopped him at the border- had called his father as if he were some rebellious teenager trying to sneak out.

And they did come for him- Jake and Jxo, both saying words of comfort or maybe trying to tell him it was dangerous and why he shouldn’t go alone- that it wasn’t safe- he didn’t know. He didn’t hear a lick of it.

So now here he was.

Waiting.

After another hour of sitting in silence with Jxo, a cry of, “Holy shit!” got their attention. Both men scrambled as a commotion of chatter and activity echoed behind them.

Inside, the link shack, and the open floor of the labs it was joined with, was a frantic mess of human, Avatar and Na’vi bodies, and there, surrounded, was Stephan.

He was awake. Sat up on his open link unit, the scrawny human man with slightly greying hair and an odd mustache was choking back water as if he were dying of thirst.

Neteyam hadn’t had very much interaction with the technician before. He knew the man could be a bit…much sometimes, knew he was an eccentric, “curses like a sailor”, herb smoking genius.

Making his way to the front of those gathered, he tried to tame his impatience. Just when he was about to launch into questions, Stephan beat him to it- turning the room silent as he spewed words a mile a minute.

“That fucker is a goddam, motherfucking psychopath! He’s got me flying to Li’ona of all places. We’re stopped for the night right now near the Johkadah crater. I managed to get him to stop under the guise that the ship was overheating- which it was, piece of crap,” he muttered, “It’s going to be eclipse soon though and the dummy still wants us to push through- he’s lucky we even have the fuel,” he said, reaching for the tablet in Max’s hands, punching a few buttons.

“You guys should thank me, call me the asshole whisperer if you will. I got that idiot to tell me shit you’d never believe. He told me where their village is- two clicks from the border of the Dead Forest- north east. That’s where we’re heading. He’s got a hoard load of shit with him too- food, weapons, medicine.”

His eyes met Neteyam’s amongst the people surrounding him. “He’s trading her- Xilä, for his title…this Su’ko fucker or whatever- leader of the savages who overthrew him- he’s giving her to him…It’s not good.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, suddenly unable to speak. He felt his mother’s arms wrap around him as he processed the techie's words.

“Xilä?” Jxo asked. “Is she injured? There was blood all over the place.”

The scrawny man nodded, “I tried, but he won’t let me go near to check on her…from what I’ve seen, she’s banged up but the good news is, I’d bet most of that blood you found was T'shteyo’s. She stabbed him, broke his nose…she did real good. Real badass, if you ask me. When she woke up for the first time, she fought hard- but he drugged her again, stuck with a sedative. I had to fight him when he…almost overdosed her.”

The link shake grew quiet.

“He drugged her? Where’d he even get that shit?” Lo’ak asked, wide-eyed. “The labs?”

“Nah, took ‘em off the Doc who tended to him after he got the crap beaten out of him. Apparently they had to keep him under most of the time.”

“Stephan, can you stall him where you are right now? We can make it to the crater in a day or two,” Jake interrupted.

Stephan nodded. “I can try, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. I pushed him too far I think, he’s been wanting to cut off my tongue,” he shared with a shudder. “I can’t stay too long. I don’t think he knows I can communicate with you guys, but I also don’t want him to figure it out if he tries to wake my Avatar and thinks I'm dead. You lot need to hurry the fuck up and come get us, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” the Olo'eyktan responded in agreement.

“Oh right, wait there’s something else,” Stephan mumbled as he quickly began to stuff his mouth with the meal an assistant handed him. “The ship keeps sending me these warnings…the place we’re headed to, the heat readings are off the fucking chart. So, if I can’t stall- if we end up there…prepare yourself. Loincloths or a Tee and cargo shorts,” he said, gesturing to Norm’s Avatar appearance, “aren’t going to cut it.”

“Okay, good to know, thanks. Max, Norm talk to him- I want that GPS up and running,” Jake ordered. “You’re doing a hell of a job brother, thank you,” he said before stepping away from the crowd as he paged Gwuyle, immediately giving instructions for their warriors to assemble.

When Stephan was finished and began getting ready to lay back into the machine, Neteyam approached him before Max could close it.

“Stephan…thank you, for-”

“Hey man, nah, it’s no biggie…your girl, she’s real tough shit…she’ll be home soon.”

Neteyam nodded. “You too brother.”

“I’d call dibs to kill T'shteyo, but something tells me there’s a line,” Stephan joked.

Neteyam followed his gaze around the room, finding Jxo, Lo’ak and his mother who were in deep conversation- plans being set in motion. Spider was there too, now showing Norm and two lab technicians something on a map as they all seemed to be nodding in agreement.

Gwuyle strode in just then, flanked by a fierce looking Leati and two council members.

“There’s a line alright,” Neteyam nodded. “Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”

“I’ll do my damn best,” Stephan assured just before the link bed closed shut with a beep.

Lo’ak made his way over. “You ready, bro?”

“Fuck yes…my lucky dagger suddenly has a date with two pieces of shit.”

“Two?”

“Oh yeah, I also want the one they call, Su’ko.”

~

Xi squinted from the harsh, red tinged glare when the door of the ship opened. She huddled further into the blanket wrapped around her when the sting of the brutal weather hit her.

Li’ona.

It had only taken them a few days of constant travel by the human-made flying contraption.

She frowned at a tied up and unconscious Stephan whose body slumped in his seat. T'shteyo had knocked him out with a heavy handed swing and Xilä prayed that he wasn’t dead and was back home, safe.

“It’s not too late to leave…please don’t do this,” she pleaded when she saw T'shteyo’s fleeting pause of hesitancy as he stared out at the vast lands- his lower face completely hidden by cloth.

“Don’t,” her father hissed, tugging on the end of the rope that kept her hands bound- making her cry out as the ties sank deeper into her skin. “One more peep out of you and I swear I’ll rip your tongue out…Understood?”

She nodded mutely, head bowed in submission.

With another forceful jerk of the rope, he led them onwards- towards the empty ruins of a land.

She had no choice but to begrudgingly follow- hissing the moment they stepped onto the dry land. The ground was scorching beneath her booted feet. Even T'shteyo released a surprised grunt when his own covered heels left the cool platform of the ship.

Xi didn’t know if it was because she’d been gone for so long or what, but somehow it seemed worse than before. The air was sweltering- blisteringly sweltering. It was almost difficult to breathe through the cloth covering her mouth and nose.

T'shteyo’s long strides forced her to practically sprint to keep up.

The journey was long and grueling. Xilä cried silent tears the further they travelled. She wanted to go home. She wanted her husband.

Sweat soaked her head to toe, parched lips begging for water. Whenever she began to lag, her father would pull on the tie, causing her to trip a few times, uncovered palms burning painfully when she tried to catch herself from falling face first on the scorching ground.

Xilä couldn’t tell whether it had been minutes, hours or days. She followed blindly, feeling somewhat feverish and delirious- and not just from the heat. Whatever foreign liquid he’d pierced her skin with, she was sure had left her with lingering effects.

Travelling through the barren lands, uprooted painful memories she thought she’d successfully stifled. She had failed though, because it was when they’d finally come across a familiar and horrifying landmark, her eyes began to water again.

That high and sharp jutting rock not only meant that they were near their destination, but it was also a reminder of the danger she was in- of the savageness of the people here- savageness far worse than her own father.

Kayoanaska was what they called that place. It was where they’d string up the treacherous- anyone who betrayed or were disloyal to the clan were strung up and left for dead. And with roaming, wild deadland beasts- not even a corpse would be left.

When they drew closer to the settlement that was once called her home, Xi’s brows puckered in confusion.

Where were the guards? Where was…anyone?

Entering the village was like walking through a shadow of the past. What was once a busy but suffering village- was now empty…abandoned… eerie.

Poorly constructed structures were either half collapsed or completely disintegrated- the brutality of the dust filled wind and weather having done great damage to what was left.

Xi wished she could have felt an ounce of sympathy for those who suffered here, but like she had told Neteyam so long ago, there was nothing left in her heart for them. They’d brought it upon themselves.

T’shteyo spun in a circle as he too seemed to be looking for signs of life. He snarled at the ruins of his home. What had they done to it?!

They didn’t have to wait very long before life soon found them. Both stilled when the ground suddenly began to shake. For a split second Xi thought it may have been a land quake, but then she spotted them.

Just in the distance, clouded by a storm of red dust, was a group of hooded figures. Cloaks flying behind them as they rode fast on their massive and terrifying beasts- the beasts who she knew reeked of decaying flesh.

Xi grew tense when they pulled to a stop some feet away. She gulped when the armed, hooded figures from her nightmares dismounted their skeletal, half dead creatures with ease.

They closed the distance on foot.

It was easy to recognize Su’ko. He was front and center, flanked by ten others. But it was the faux grand spear he wielded that told her exactly who he was. That spear had once belonged to her father when he was Olo'eyktan.

Four men broke away, rounding behind Xi and T'shteyo, effectively blocking them from any form of escape.

“T'shteyo…you actually returned,” Su’ko sneered in mock fascination from beneath the cloth covering his face- soulless piercing eyes crinkling with mirth. “You are far braver than I gave you credit for, fool…I admit…I have lost a wager then,” he snickered, making a few of the others chuckle in amusement also.

“Su’ko,” her father grunted in greeting, glare set on the man who’d cost him his title. “What have you done to my clan? My village! Where are my people!”

“Ahhh…so many, My’s. You forget they no longer belong to you…but fret not. They are safe. Sheltered. Loyal to me now since I did what you could not do, brother. I did what you were not willing to do.”

“Enough!” her father roared.

Xilä knew he hated to be undermined more than anything. Being perceived as weak was indeed her father’s greatest weakness.

“Fine then,” Su’ko agreed with a nudge of his head. “Why don’t you show us the gifts you’ve brought with you?” he gleamed, head tilting to roam over Xi’s hidden form appreciatively.

T'shteyo dropped the overstuffed sack he’d been painfully carrying to the ground- dust momentarily clouding around their feet before clearing away. “One of many,” he said, “food, clean water, weapons, medicine…just like you asked.”

Su’ko gave an ordering hoot, and at once, one of his men stepped forward to inspect the loot. He offered a fat water skin to his leader, who jerked his head at the man.

Picking up on Su’ko’s hesitation, Xi’s father growled a deep angry snarl. “It is not poisoned! If I wanted you dead I’d go about it very differently!”

But the leader was not deterred, glare still fixed on his underling standing in the center.

Hesitantly, the man uncapped the skin and drank, and drank…and drank. Xilä knew that feeling all too well- that first taste of clean fresh water. The sweet sweet, tear jerking taste. She remembered waking up in Mo’at’s tent like it was yesterday- her first time experiencing it. She remembered wanting to beg for more…but she never had to beg.

“That’s enough!” Su’ko roared, grabbing the waterskin away. He released the cloth from his lower face, baring his teeth in a sinister smile before drinking his full until the bag went empty. Grin wide and happy, he said, “You did good T'shteyo, very good…where’s the rest of it?”

“No. My title,” her father demanded. “You don’t get anymore. The rest is mine. I decide who gets what…don’t make me repeat myself.”

Su’ko raised a brow at his tone but said nothing.

A stifling silence filled with murderous glares prolonged until Su’ko broke it with humored huff. There was absolutely nothing funny to laugh at however, especially when his attention turned towards Xilä.

Despite the unbearable heat, a cold sweat rippled through Xi’s body as her breathing became erratic.

“Have it your way then, brother, if you must. But won’t you at least show off the most important thing you’ve got hiding behind you?” he asked, making all eyes focus on Xilä now.

“Did you not hear me? I want my title!”

“Now, now T'shteyo,” Su’ko said in a mocking tone, “The deal was, I get the girl and you get the title…so unless we no longer have a deal…” he sang, lips twitching tauntingly.

“No wait…wait…” T'shteyo tugged hard on Xi’s bindings, causing her to stumble forward. “Your whore…as promised.” He tossed the end of the rope which Su’ko caught with ease.

With a pleasurable groan, he yanked Xilä towards him, cupping her throat to give her a warning squeeze when she tried to resist him.

“Aww, be calm Petal,” he cooed as he pulled down her face covering. “She is wounded,” he spat in fury, gipping her trembling jaw tightly to twist her head to his liking. “I told you to deliver her unharmed!”

“Yeah, well the bitch put up a fight. You have her. She’ll heal,” T'shteyo said nonchalantly, making Xilä whimper in defeat.

“Ahh, I see…So she’ll need a bit of training, hmm? Doesn’t know how to behave just yet,” he cooed again, scarred face stretching into an ugly grin.

Xilä grimaced, holding her breath when he pulled her up onto her toes to lick a stripe across her uninjured cheek, putrid breath clogging her senses.

“Mmmmm, even better than the water,” he whispered for only her to hear. “Oh yes…yes, yes, yes. She will do just fine,” he said, releasing her, binding the end of the rope to the sheath tethered to his hip.

T'shteyo cleared his throat, jerking his head at the spear in Su’ko’s free hand, expectantly.

“Ahhh…the title…hmmm. Here’s the thing, old friend. There’s a little hitch in the plan,” he sang in faux sadness, eyes still roaming over Xilä’s petrified face.

She whimpered, struggling against his hold when he pulled her close to openly inhale her sweet scent, nosing along her hairline, down her cheek, tucking into her hood to sniff along her jaw and neck.

“No- don’t, please don’t,” she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes when his hand pushed through her cloak to trail up her hip, rough fingers palming at the exposed skin of her waist.

“What fucking hitch?! We had a deal you bastard!” T'shteyo roared, bringing Su’ko’s attention back to him.

“Did we?” Su’ko pondered sarcastically, “Hmm, either way-” he continued calmly- his cool tone contradicting the tense moment, “I thank you for your generous gifts, but you see, I seem to have had a change of heart. I have decided that I will be keeping the title.”

T'shteyo howled angrily, expletives rolling off his tongue as he advanced towards Su’ko, knives drawn and ready to strike.

But he did not get very far…

Su’ko laughed at his actions and turned away without care, storming back in the direction of the beasts that were waiting for them, dragging his prize along by the rope tethered to him.

As he refastened his face covering, he called out, “You may kill him now!”

Xilä pulled on her bindings, looking back in horror to watch as four men advanced on T'shteyo. He fought hard against his attackers, but they were quick to overpower him. Guttural screams echoed through the empty air as they brutally began to beat him.

“T-traitors! Cowards! Ev-ery fucking one of you! Weak b-bastards!” her father cried in agony.

“Wait!” Su’ko ordered, making the warriors cease their vicious actions. “I changed my mind…He does not deserve a quick death.”

The hooded men hooted in delight.

Su’ko peered down at a sobbing Xilä, “What do you think, Petal? How should we kill him? Hm?”

Without making her respond, he instead grinned at the sight of the crumpled heap of a man who was rocking and wailing in pain.

“It is settled then…Kayoanaska awaits. We string him up instead!”

~

The sound of retching filled the air and the putrid stench of bile caused Su’ko to grimace at his newly acquired gift.

A few of Xilä’s braids had gone loose, strands of hair sticking to her sweat slicked face as she doubled over for another heaving round, completely draining the contents of her already empty stomach.

Her father was dead…well not yet, but he was as good as. It was only a matter of time. Whether it was the heat or starvation…or the deadland beasts who’d most likely get to him first.

She’d seen them do it. Seen them strip him of his weapons before binding him to the jagged high rock, feet dangling in the air as he sobbed and begged for mercy. She’d heard his gut wrenching cry for her to help him as she wrestled and fought against the hold of her new capturers.

But he’d done this to them.

There was nothing she could do, and Xi hated him for it. She hated herself for still not wanting him dead. And as much pain and hurt he had inflicted upon her all the years of her life, as much as she still loathed him in that very moment for releasing her into the hands of monsters, she could never- Stop.

He deserved it…didn’t he?

“Disgusting shit! Send in someone to deal with this mess. I was promised a woman to fuck, not this infected, disease bearing flea!”

Su’ko sent her one last scornful glare before storming out of the small alcove he had shackled her in.

They were underground- a short ride’s journey from where the village once was. It was a dim, low ceiling cave which had probably been created overtime due to the many quakes the land had experienced. Or at least she thought so-

Xilä hadn’t gotten a proper look of it yet- she was too busy trying not to fall as Su’ko dragged her by the wrists through a sea of onlookers- clan members hissing and cursing at her as he paraded his new whore around.

They’d reached out cruel hands- hands that yanked off her hood, tugged at her braids and queue and snatched off the boots that covered her blistered feet. Her now exposed face showcased her frightened tear filled eyes and stained cheeks which only made them laugh in glee at her weakness.

She had tried to make eye contact with someone- anyone who'd show her a hint of compassion…but they all wore masks of evil- bared fangs, wild grunts and cruel words.

It wasn’t until she was tossed into an alcove, did all the events and bodily pain finally catch up with her, making her hurl and heave whatever little was left in her stomach.

A few moments after Su’ko left her, an old, shriveled water skin was chucked at her feet, along with a frayed rag and a small chunk of half rotting bark.

“Clean yourself up,” snapped the voice of a woman.

Xilä recognized it- it was Vhin, a middle aged Na’vi who Xi had come to despise over the years. She used to be a friend of her mother’s.

With a slew of curses, the woman began to clean the pool of vomit Xi had made. From a quick glance around, Xilä guessed this must have been Su’ko’s private space she had defiled.

“Better do as told, girl,” Vhin warned when she saw that Xi hadn’t moved from her slumped position on the dirt floor, crumbling rocks loosening beneath her. “The Olo'eyktan wishes to claim you after the feast.”

“I cannot be claimed, Vhin,” Xilä rasped as she levelled a glare at the vile Na’vi before her. “I am a mated woman. I am already-”

The older woman cut her off with an unimpressed noise. “It does not count…Su’ko makes the rules here now.”

“I am a claimed woman. I was bonded to my mate before Eywa-”

“Ha! Eyyyywaaa…” she drawled sarcastically, “Where was the Great Mother when we her people needed her? How many years- decades has it been since she’s shown her presence? We live like vermin! What has she ever done for us? Su’ko is Olo'eyktan now and his word is worth more than the mighty Great Mother. You’d be wise to remember there is no Eywa here anymore. He will take you as he wishes.”

Not wanting to discuss such a revolting topic any further, Xi steered the direction of the conversation.

“If you don’t have the Great Mother, there are other ways- there were other things that could have been done. Did you know help has been offered by the Omatikaya. If only my father was not so stubborn- Your Olo'eyktan, the people can choose differently. We did not have to live this way- you still don’t have too. My clan can help! You have a choice now, Vhin. All the people of Li’ona do. My mate,” Xi said, tearing up from just calling his name, “his father, Jakesully- Toruk Makto can save-”

“Quiet!” Vhin hissed, “You have been gone far too long, Xilä. I see your head has been filled with fruitless lies. Our people take care of their own. Remember?”

Xi scoffed bitterly, causing her ribs to ache. “No, they are too proud to accept help. Or maybe just too stupid.”

Vhin squinted at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You are different, girl... No longer the whimpering mess you used to be.”

Xi ignored her, choosing instead to break off a small piece of the cleansing bark near her feet. It was stale, but it aided in settling her rolling upset stomach and removed the rancid taste from her mouth.

“It is a good thing, Xilä. We need strong women in our clan, there are already far too few of us. Why do you think Su’ko was so eager to claim you? We will have a chance at a new start.”

Lip throbbing from talking so much, Xi said, “There is no us. I will not be here for long.”

Vhin laughed, amused, “And just where do you think you will be going?”

“Home. My husband will come for me,” she replied defiantly.

The woman shot Xi a pitying glance. “Oh you poor silly girl. Oh to be young and stupid again.” The harsh lines of Vhin’s face crinkled when she smiled, making her look much older than she truly was. “Clean yourself up. I will be back to ensure that you have. Don’t make me have to punish you,” she threatened.

Xilä released a sob once she was alone. Giving herself a moment to react to the situation at hand she wept as quietly as possible, muffling the sounds into her blistered palms.

She was terrified.

Not only had they left her father out for dead but Su’ko was planning to claim her- to mate her. She wept harder at that thought. She knew Su’ko would take her against her will, he was not one to reason with.

‘Please hurry Neteyam,’ she prayed.

All she wanted at that moment was to be held by her husband and to be far away from this wretched land.

Sobering up, she began to take note of her injuries, wincing when she touched the corner of her bottom lip. The dried blood on her cheek felt tight and itchy. Running a knuckle along the torn flesh, she felt relieved that it was only a shallow cut.

Her throat was still sore of course, it hurt to swallow her own saliva. She shuddered at the memory of her father’s hands squeezed tight around her neck. Xilä thought she was going to die then.

Sipping the water Vhin had left was a bad idea. It was murky and tasted more like slosh than anything- she spat it out instantly and tossed it away. She wouldn’t even use it to clean her palms, or cheek. Who knew what infections it could cause.

Xilä’s eyes trailed to the rusty old chain around her ankle. It was human-made of course. Probably looted from an old RDA turf. Xi noted that much of the contents of Su’ko’s space held several foreign items that Xi had never noted in Li’ona before.

It puzzled her because it was a punishable crime to have possession of such items.

Glaring at the chain that held her prisoner and unable to run, Xi grimaced at her poor ankle- it swollen and almost mangled looking. Angry harsh marks tinged in blood circled her cyan skin. Su’ko had been quite rough with her when he’d tied her up.

She had already tried and failed multiple times at releasing the bindings on her wrists. So, attempting to slip her foot free again, she wailed in frustration when she failed yet again. It didn’t even budge.

Over and over she tugged and pulled and yanked- trying to break free.

But nothing.

Slumping in defeat against the wall of rock she was held in, Xi prayed to Eywa to give her strength.

~

It had been an hour since two men dragged her from the alcove and tossed her at Su’ko’s feet.

Xilä stifled the need to cry again, she refused to let them see her tears.

She was tired, hungry, thirsty. Her injuries were no longer numb from a rush of adrenaline or maybe it was the muted effects of whatever drug her father had most likely overdosed her with- but she was in pain.

And then here she was as well, on display for the entire clan to see.

They’d stolen her cloak a few minutes ago- a soft blanket really. The faint lingering scent of home had been roughly ripped off of her and was now wrapped around some other woman who’d brutally beaten the one who’d stolen it from her.

Animals.

All of them.

Xi watched them all now from her perch between Su’ko’s thighs. She stayed eerily still as he played with her hair, occasionally breaking away from his feast of smoked fish and squashed yovo fruit, to nuzzle at her neck, deeply inhaling each time.

She felt revolution from his touch and naked in front of the clan.

Unlike the other fully covered women in their poorly sewn, weather appropriate- long ugly dresses, Xilä was probably a sight to see in her revealing tubed top and short skirt.

Men stared and women sneered. Su’ko on the other hand was downright delighted.

Xilä watched the faces staring back at her. They were gaunt, pale, sickly. Savages who fought each other over the food “Su’ko” had provided for them- the food her father had stolen.

Eyes roaming, she realized she’d been right. The cave was dim, low hanging so that taller Na’vi had to watch their heads while standing at full height. And while it was still hot, it was definitely not as blistering as the outside. Members were now free to reveal their faces or shrug off their outer threadbare cloaks.

“Pretty little thing,” a nearby member complimented his leader, grunting through a lisp- half his teeth missing. “You will share her, no?”

“But of course,” Su’ko purred, tongue darting out to lick a bead of sweat off her temple. “What precious gift we have here.”

Hoots and cheers echoed around the cave at the man's words.

“Oh, Petal. I am going to have so much fun with you.”

Xi felt herself shutting down. She screwed her eyes shut, blocking out the world around her.

“Come on Xi. You can do this. Let’s go again. Ready? Breathe in… out… In… out. Focus on your breathing…clear your mind before trying to find her.”

Xilä’s nose wrinkled as she tried to focus. “Ugh, it’s not working, ‘Teyam. I can’t do it.”

“Bullshit. Yes you can. Again.”

“It’s too hard, let’s go back to-”

“No.”

Xi pouted. She realized he’d crumble to her will lately- especially if she played it right.

He glanced away, nose flaring, sharp jaw clenched as if denying himself temptation. When he stared at her again, she felt breathless…she felt seen- as if she mattered.

What was he doing to her lately?

“Alright, fine. Come here then, let’s try another way.” He gently tugged her towards him, unlinking his legs as he helped her settle against his chest.

Xilä bit her lip, head tilting forward to hide her furious appearing blush as his thighs caged her in. He was doing this a lot now…touching her. It was innocent enough but she felt the hidden more- she liked it.

His palm covered the entity of her stomach, applying a small amount of pressure. “Breathe with me Xilä, feel how I do, okay?” he said quietly, pressing her flush with his chest.

“Okay.”

He whispered in her ear this time, puffs of warm breath tickingling her. “Breathe sweetheart. In…out…In…out…In…out…Clear your mind…in, before you sharpen your thoughts, out…In…out. What do you hear? In…out. What do you feel? Make the connection, Xi……Feel it?”

“Yes.”

It was indescribable. Since starting this particular lesson, it was the first time she’d felt it- the first time she connected with Eywa without Tsaheylu with the Tree of Souls. The Omatikaya were a spiritual people. Eywa was their way of life.

And now it would be hers too.

Neteyam linked his pinkie with her index like they always did of late. He nudged her with his chin playfully. “See? How was that?”

“Good…Beautiful. I didn’t think I could do it,” she admitted.

“Why? Don’t you see? There is nothing you cannot do, Xi. I want you to start believing in yourself like I do,” he said, lips brushing her flickering ear.

“I know. But this in particular…I thought Eywa would want nothing to do with me- it’s stupid.”

Thick arms circled her, hugging her close. “It’s not stupid…do you want to talk about why you would think such a thing?”

“I don’t, not right now anyway. Maybe another time.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to try again, or call it a day? Your choice, sweetheart. I’m feeling generous today,” he joked.

Xilä turned to peer up at her friend- gold clashing with silver. She felt that tickling flutter in her stomach again. The one that would sink lower into secret parts of her- parts that tingled and dampened. The same fluttering she’d feel whenever she stared at his sweat slicked abs or arms when she watched him train with his team. The one that made her weak at the knees when he called her “sweetheart”.

“Xi?”

She blinked, a beam growing on her face. “Yes, I want to try again.”

“Alright,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as they settled into the position again. “Ready?”

Breath in…and out…In…out…in…out.

Xilä opened her eyes- piercing gaze fiercely glaring into her lap.

The memory did something to her.

It sparked the fire she needed. Hearing Neteyam’s voice relit the hope she knew was slowly dimming.

If he were here with her, he’d tell her she was strong. He’d tell her she could get through this. He’d tell her to think, to plan, to be smart and to strike when they least expected it.

Xi could do that.

She refused to accept defeat.

She refused to let them break her.

~

So all of that just happened...My heart breaks for Xi and Neteyam rn.

This took a darker turn than expected...we'll see what happens in the next part...

I know that this chapter is a month over due, so again, I'll spear yall my sob story. I really do hate having long stretches of no update, really sorry lovelies.

Not going to lie but this chapter was a strugggggle to write. It's not my favorite and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy at all with the final result...but it's done, so *shrugs*

Special shout out to Tori who's idea's helped immensely. As well as those of you who would have sent an Ask. It honestly helped A LOT!

Feel free to share your suggestions of course and as always please let me know what you thought, since you know I love hearing from you all :)

Ps: Curious of what you all think of Stephan's character. Lol

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

high late night thought but I have this crazy idea about the reader making Daryl a multifunctional wooden crossbow and its frying my brain

It happened as the two of you were making your way back to your campsite after a long day of splashing and hand catching fish in the lake, Daryl nudged your shoulder with his and pointed to a deer. “M’gon get it” He whispered, already aimming his crossbow.

You turned your head briefly, checking to see where Dog had wondered off too when you heard what sounded like elastic snapping, followed by Daryl’s very frantic cursing.

“What happened?!” When you whipped around, Daryl was already crouched around the bow as he made an attempt to fix it. You got next to him to try and see what was wrong. “It didn’t fire like it was supposed ta… Hold tha part” Your fingers pinched the piece he pointed at, watching as his hands slightly trembled as he tried to re string the bow to the actual trigger, you holding down the piece that clamps the trigger into place.

Snap.

Daryl held up the fully broken string, feeling his heart break along with it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Daryl” You whispered as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, once again trying to jam the string ends back into place but to no avail, only further damaging the weapon. He exhaled in frustration. “I’ve had this damned thing since I was a teenager, it was tha’ first thing Merle ever got fer me” Daryl mumbled, rolling the thick bowstring in his hands. His chest hurt and there was a small lump building in his throat.

You stared down at the crossbow, analyzing it’s shape before carefully picking it up to take a better look at the mechanics. “C’mon. We can figure something out handsome”

It took you a few months to figure something out.

Over that time period, Daryl was absolutely crushed.

He was visibly upset, snapping and yelling at anyone who talked to him, on one occasion at Judith, but he quickly apologized.

It was obvious to everyone that Daryl’s crossbow was of extreme sentimental value, and it would take time for him to heal. Carol had offered to teach him how to use a standard bow, only to be dismissed with an agitated “I used a goddamn bow ‘nd arrow before”

Daryl was frustrated with nobody but himself, frustrated that the countless times he’s had to fix the thing, he couldn’t do it one more time.

You spent the first half of the first month studying how all the strings worked and the mechanisms of the weapon in general. It wasn’t complicated, especially when you started to pick stuff apart. You spent the other half brainstorming and designing ideas for a more sturdier and functional crossbow, trying to stay calm as you watched Daryl intimidatingly stalk around the community. You felt bad knowing you both blamed yourselves, even though it was neither one of yours fault.

You got lucky in the second month, when you and Carol had gotten lost in the woods, and your only flashlight stopped working.

You just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, “I’m trying to make Daryl a new crossbow” You blurted out as the two of you stopped walking. Carol turned to you in the dark, striking a match as she did. “That’s nice, how’s it goin?” She smiled softly at your eye roll. “I just don’t know exactly to build it, let alone design” You scoffed, kicking a rock. You weren’t some kind of handyman, but it made busied your mind to have something to build or deconstruct. “Well, we’re in the forest. Why not get some wood?” Carol struck another match, your eyes flickering towards the sound, watching the stick ignite into flames. You nodded, smiling absently as you followed her.

When you got home, you dropped the logs and rummaged through the drawers, grabbing a box of matches and speed walking over to your drawing pad.

You pulled the crossbow out from where you kept it, placing it on the table and quickly walking back to snatch up the logs.

There was more than enough to make a decent amount of arrows, and to try creating a new piece to properly re-string the previously broken one, plopping down into a chair as you started to pick apart the weapon, creative thoughts beginning to flow.

You used your large knife to chop and carve the wood, occasionally nicking yourself or cutting just a little too much off. You took breaks inbetween to draw out ideas, standing up to get a better look before sitting back down, scribbling on the paper or dragging the sharp blade down a wooden piece.

By the third month, you were gluing and securing down new parts and pieces, following a vision in your head.

The crossbow has its original black structure, a small piece of wood right behind the formerly faulty trigger to help it fire once more. You had taken off the head in previous months, not sure what to do with it until recently, picking up the separate piece and turning it around in your hands. The idea of multi function flooded your head, staring down at the arched part and back at the structure as you already busied yourself with mending and bending metal.

You had to re-string and re-wire a few sections, standing up for a test run every so often as you worked vigorously. You were proud of yourself for being able to fix the trigger itself, however this was an even greater fix. You rose to your feet and slid the weapons end over your shoulder, aimming before firing. The string cracked forward as the arrow shot out, and you pulled it back into it’s wooden place, firing one more arrow.

You smiled softly to yourself for being able to fix it, and moved to once more pop the bows head off, only this time setting the structure down and holding it put in front of you, pulling the string back with your fingers and releasing, arrow flying to join the others. “Damn I outdo myself everyday” You pumped a fist in the air as you moved to yank the three arrows from out of the wall.

The head snapped easily back into place, along with the string. You added the dozen wooden sticks you had carved into various sized arrows into the crossbows original holder, staring down at weapon for any overlooked mistakes or potential last minute details. The matchbox briefly crossed your mind.

“Where’s Daryl?” You squinted your eyes and shielded them from the sun, glancing up at Aaron. “Said he was going out. Didn’t wanna push” The man shrugged and you nodded, thanking him for his help before going back to your house to put your gear on.

As you walked out the gates, newly modified crossbow slung around your shoulder, you couldn’t help but wink at your friends prying eyes.

Part of you wasn’t even sure where Daryl would be if not hunting out the woods, but then you realized he wouldn’t go anywhere but the woods.

Your feet led you back to your old campsite, where your heart soared as you spotted faint but very much footprints, following them with your knife drawn closely by your side. The prints were leading you to the lake, and at first you thought maybe you followed old prints, however held your breath when you finally spotted Daryl sitting on the edge of the water. You approached carefully, trying your best to keep the weapon concealed.

“Quit followin’ me” Daryl mumbled when you were standing behind him. You sat next to him, crossbow behind the two of you as you stared out into the water, then at Daryl. He simply looked at ground while digging a small hole with a rock, choosing to remain silent in your presence. It comforted him a little, and he spared a quick glance at you, head snapping upwards. “You- Did you-“ You placed the bow into his lap, fighting your smile as he carefully picked it up and analyzed it. “Why… How’d ya fix it?” He whispered, fingers caressing the wooden chunks and the bow head itself. “I’m sorry it took so long” You mumbled but Daryl shook his head. “Who cares? Ya still fixed it ‘nd then some!” His eyes sparkled as he was already positioning it onto his shoulder, aimming at a nearby tree and whooping at the sound of the string cracking and the arrow flying.

When he noticed the string out of it’s place however, he frowned. “It’s broke” You chuckled, taking the weapon from him and angling it so he could watch you. “It’s got lots of new feats. Bow and arrow good sir?” You popped off the head and handed it him, laughing at his stunned look. Daryl held the arch out in front of him and pulled the string back, sending an arrow next to the previous one. He whipped his head back around, eyes catching your fingers as they fiddled with a red stripe in the middle of the structure, right where the arrow goes. “I haven’t tested this myself” You whispered as you showed Daryl how to properly snap the head back on before rising to your feet.

“Ain’t a self-destruct is it?” Daryl stretched as he stood next to you, moving to yank the few strays out the tree. You shook your head, sliding one of your wooden arrows out the holder and bringing it to the stripe, quickly dragging it across and sliding it into position, flames licking the arrows head. Daryl whistled as it fired into a tree, fire still burning until it wasn’t. “Damn girl. I ain’t ever lettin’ ya get away” Daryl stepped into your space, one hand grabbing your waist and the other relieving you of the heavy weapon, slinging it over his shoulder. “Nice strap” He snorted, glancing down at the magneta shoulder strap replacing his black one. You softly kissed his lips, smiling as your hands rested against his chest. “How else will I identify you, huntermam?” His hands on your waist pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. Daryl looked and felt much more like himself, an easy smile resting on his lips, his crossbow once again slung over his shoulder, and his woman warm under the touch of his hands.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

its 3 am and im fucking high as fuck guys live laugh love actually who’s down for a stoner reader fic thats sounds so fire

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 19

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Remus watches Sirius eat.

Sirius shouldn’t be eating, but he’s a sneaky one and managed to smuggle a bag of dates into the museum when Remus wasn’t looking. He gets snacky, he said when he took them out and put them on his desk. Helps him think, having something to chew on.

Remus should not be watching Sirius eat. For his own self preservation, really. Not when the dates are sticky and Sirius licks them off his fingers. There’s a hint of teeth, a flash of tongue. Remus is pretty sure he would hate seeing anyone else do this, but on Sirius… he still hates it, but for different reasons. It’s obscene. His mouth opens and his fingers enter it and each time, Remus has a vivid, gut-pulling, earth-shattering reminder of the dream he had. Has to bite the inside of his own cheek to stop from moaning.

It’s been an unproductive day. He’s stuck on a translation of a word from the 30th sequence of the tomb-chapel of Rekhmira. There are some Muggle translations but none of them makes sense within the context of what Remus knows and what the Muggles wouldn’t: Rekhmira is a key.

Hng r.k mxA.i n.k r.k r qsw.k

Your mouth is ..., I measure your mouth for you to your bones

Sirius, despite emptying his stash of snacky brain food, is also getting nowhere with the Box.

“Let’s finish for today,” he says, “it’s almost midnight.”

“Run out of food, did you?”

“Yes,” a grin with so many pretty white teeth, “and I want to feed Ziggy. Poor thing’s been alone for hours.”

They walk through a night-quiet Aswan. It’s clear, star-lit, moon-bright.

“There’s my star,” Sirius point out, “bright, aren’t I?”

“That you are,” Remus answers, “very pretty.”

Sirius points out constellations as they walk, the main star in each. There’s Leo, and Regulus, it’s heart. There’s Cassiopeia, the Stag.

“And look, Aquila. Like on your Box. But it’s Altair, the Eagle’s eye, that’s the brightest, not…” he stops dead, arm he was using to point towards the sky suddenly limp by his side.

“Sirius?”

“It’s the Falcon.”

Remus wants to ask more but there is something so wonderful about watching Sirius put pieces together. He’s loath to disturb it and scared to move – he knows the face of breakthrough. He knows how easy a thread of new thought can be broken.

“Aquila was the falcon of Horus in Egypt, not an Eagle - that’s Greek. And the red star, Alshain, on the Box - it’s the peregrine, also the falcon.”

Sirius breaks eye contact with the sky, looks to Remus, bright and elated. “The whole Box is a multi level riddle, like your bloody crosswords.”

They turn back to the Museum.

It’s strange walking through the ward and into a sun lit room straight from a dark night outside. Confuses something in Remus’ time perception. It’s a liminal space, this office of theirs, where nothing is real but the two of them and what they work on. Remus gets lost in it. Could spend days in it. Work away the nights.

Sirius transfigures a blank sheet of paper into an enormous blackboard. Draws the Box on it – an approximation of it, three dimensional son flat canvas, all sharp edges and quick, overlapping lines.

“There are constellations here,” he points to one of the edges, draws an arrow to it, “and here.”

Aquila, he writes, the Falcon. “We know this. On the other side is Lupus, the Wolf.” More arrows, more notes. “But Lupus has no named stars… so what’s the clue here?”

Remus does no work of his own, just watches the storm in front of him and lets it sweep him along. Thinks just how bloody lucky he’s gotten that the convict he pulled out of prison has an in-depth knowledge of star systems. Cringes at it because calling Sirius this now? Unthinkable. Senseless.

He tries to imagine it. Sirius, hurting all those people. Can’t: even in the midst of an attack, Sirius didn’t hurt Remus, only himself. He’s been so gentle. With Ziggy. With Remus. It makes no sense, that somebody could be both.

More writing. Lupus underlined, and below it: Wolf. Roman: Bestia. Greek: Therium. Babylon: Mad Dog – UR.IDIM.

Then a drawing, something with a head of a man and body of a wolf.

Sirius draws back. Thinks about it. Summons a book of deities and it flies into his hands. “I’m missing something.”

Then he’s quiet for a while, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He’s a beautiful mess.

“That’s Anubis and Wepwawet on the front. They’re both dog gods, but that makes no sense…”

“Wepwawet is a wolf,” Remus interrupts.

It’s dangerous, now, with the disfigured human drawn on the board, how close Sirius is to figuring out the core of the research. Remus knows it, and he sees in Sirius’ eyes that he does, too.

“It’s time you give me another piece of information, Remus. The missing link.”

Remus knows he’s right. To have a chance at figuring this out, he has to know just why the Box stroke his interest. He was hoping to delay it. He was hoping not to do it at all. And Sirius was so good, he got so much of it already – more than Remus has, more than anyone since the Box had been found. Falcon. Bestia. Dog-Man.

“I’m studying werewolves.”

NEXT PART

NOTES:

Does this make sense? It makes sense to me but that could be because I know the big picture.

extra long chapter today to make up for missing yesterday :)

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[0chemicalwaste0]

We Will Meet Again

(Haldir x reader)

-Part 1-

request thanks to the lovely @SierraSama from Wattpad. Anyway this is her request and enjoy. "Could you possibly do a Haldir imagine in which the reader is injured when she arrives in Lóthorien with the fellowship and he helps her back on her feet?"

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 951

'So help me if we live to see another day I'm going to kill Mithrandir.' I thought to myself. Why? You may ask, well I, along with the Fellowship, were currently in Moria in a bit of a conundrum. You see my friends and I were having to run for our lives away from thousands upon thousands of goblins. Not to mention the fact we had to escape from a Balrog as well. Gimli had thought it would have been a wonderful idea to traverse through the abandoned mines. A few loud noises later; curtsy of Pippin, the group and I were dashing through the old halls to the nearest exit as quick as possible. And at the current moment, I was holding up the rear of the group to make sure none of the hobbits were left behind and to let some steam off while shooting goblins in the head with my arrows. And I'm not guilty to say I imagined their heads to be Gandalf's. Then running across a narrow bridge with Gandalf staying behind to make sure everyone makes it safely across, the Balrog made his appearance. For the first time in my immortal life I saw Mithrandir afraid for his life and ours. He started to make his way over to the center of the bridge. Raising his sword and staff saying " You shall not pass!" Then slamming the butt of his staff to the ground braking the bridge beneath the beast. We let out a sigh of relief too soon, because a fiery whip rapped itself around Gandalf's leg and pulled him until only his head and arms were visible over the edge of the broken bridge. Looking to us with sadness and slight fear, "Fly you fools," was his last words before releasing his grip and falling to the chasm below. I screamed in heartbreak along with Frodo, standing there in disbelief of losing a close friend and a father figure to Frodo. Boromir grabbed Frodo and slowly walked backwards with a sword in hand to protect him and himself. Looking in my direction Boromir yelled. " (Y/N)! We need to go!" I broke out of my stupor and made my way to the exit, but before I could make it fully through I felt a sharp pain in my right side from the back. I looked down to see a poorly made arrow stuck in my flesh. Standing behind the wall separating the orcs from their target to pull the arrow out. I looked at the tip of the arrowhead to see a dark substance. 'Poison.' I thought to myself then throwing the object to the side. I tore a piece of my tunic underneath my cloak and rapped it over my wound. Making sure that it was out of sight I ran out of the Mines to finally feel the sun on my (S/C) skin and feel a light breeze ruffle my (H/L), (H/C)hair. For a moment I felt better until reality set in. 'Mithrandir is gone.' I told myself. I look at the others and realized they knew this too. I felt a signal tear run down my face and drop to the ground below.

We had been traveling for about half a day and I could feel myself losing strength quickly. Everything was fuzzy around the edges of my vision, I could feel vertigo starting to set in. I could hear Gimli talking to the hobbits ahead of me but it was muffled by the sound of blood pumping in my sensitive ears. Suddenly the Fellowship had stopped. I looked up and tried to focus my sight. That's when I saw him. He looked like he was one of the Valar descending from the halls of Mandos. He was beautiful in my eyes. Perfect blonde hair in warrior braids running down to his shoulders. I thought I was dreaming, but to soon was I pulled from my revery. I felt a sharp pain over the flesh that was pierced by that foul arrow. Everyone looked to me in confusion and worry once I opened my cloak to look at my wound only to see that blood coated most of my right side. Dark spots started to set in when the blonde elf walked over to me with concern in his baby blue eyes. I realized he was speaking to me, but I could not hear him. Then I felt myself lose balance and start to fall, but before I could hit the hard ground beneath me the elf caught me and was yelling to his men and to the Fellowship asking what happened. They didn't know because I didn't tell them. I wouldn't want them to worry. Soon an elf brought a horse over to us, the beautiful blue eyed elf lifted me up bridal style, put me on the horse, and hopped on behind me. He pulled me in to his chest so I didn't put strain on my wound or fall. While one hand carefully slid around my waist and the other grabbed the rains of the horse. Then every thing fell into darkness with my head leaned into the chest of my savior. I hoped I would live long enough to know his name.

[gayfanservice]

Dylan Lenivy x Male Reader

Reader teaches kids archery bcuz I want to learn it and think it’s cool (edited lol)

*********

Putting chairs in place, art supplies in the right area, filling up the towel bin or praying the radio turns on for just one more year, picking up garbage that somehow got there and cleaning away cobwebs. Except Jacob, who refused to go into the cabins until the spiders were gone. Whatever needed to be done to prepare for the kids’ arrival.

There wasn’t much that needed to be prepared at the archery corner of the camp, just a little shack cleaning and inspecting the arrows and testing the bows to make sure they wouldn’t break on a kid. There was one bow in particular that the kids were not allowed to touch, and that bow belonged to (Y/N). It looked like every other bow, only having a different color scheme and being slighter bigger than the others. He even had his full name carved into the wood in case the children can read.

“I’m sure Mr. H. wouldn’t mind if I take a few practice shots. Probably. Hopefully… meh.” (Y/N) shrugged, Mr. H. wouldn’t come this way anyway, and there was still half an hour before the counselors had to meet at the lodge to greet the campers.

He grabbed arrows, not counting the exact amount and dropping them on the ground beside him, disobeying his own rules that he will make the children follow. No one’s here to witness his crimes, so it’s fine. (Y/N) snickered at himself, loading the bow and straightening his stance, taking a deep breath to steady his hands, I wish I ate breakfast. his stomach growled. His hand stretched back, the familiar faint burning creeping up his muscles as he aimed towards the round target.

(Y/N) took another sharp breath, straightening his arms and legs as he pulled back the string. The chirping of birds and rustling of the wind drowning into the background, focusing on nothing but the target in front of him.

With one swift movement, his fingers left the arrow and away it flew into the target, hitting the red inner circle but not smack-dab in the middle. So close to being a cool movie character. He sulked, picking up another arrow from the ground and equipping it to the bow’s string.

“Whoa, good job!” Clapping ensued behind him, the sudden noises making (Y/N) literally jump and land on an arrow he left on the ground with a SNAP.

“Fuck!” From both being startled and breaking an arrow.

The guy, Dylan as (Y/N) saw when he turned, wore a guilty expression has he nervously smiled, “Oh shit, sorry, man,” (Y/N) picked up the broken arrow pieces, groaning and thanking god that was the only damage done.

“Mother- fuck me, man.” He picked up the other two arrows, finally counting how many he had.

“Whoa, you want to fuck your mother?” (Y/N) stopped, staring into the void of dumbass-ness (Dylan).

“I- what- huh? Dude,” He stammered, completely dumbfounded at what Dylan just fucking said him after causing him to break camp equipment, even though it was his fault. Dylan still had that goofy smile on his face, obviously trying to make the mood lighter. A smile broke onto (Y/N) face, then cackling as he gave up trying to stone-face Dylan, “Dude, what the fuck?” He laughed, suddenly remembering how Dylan made him quite literally jump and laughing harder, wheezing almost. Dylan joined in, his dorky grin growing. “Bro, why’d you do that? I could’ve hurt myself!” (Y/N) playfully scolded, walking towards the target and ripping the arrow out of it.

“I just wanted to come see how the others were doing, I didn’t know you were a wuss,” he followed (Y/N) to the shack, “besides, isn’t it, like, your number one rule to not put equipment on the ground?” Dylan held the door open as (Y/N) put his bow and arrows away, deciding to hide the broken one and hopefully blame it on a kid later.

“Three, actually,” (Y/N) replied, walking out and locking the shack with the keys Chris gave him. “No one was supposed to see; no witnesses, no crime.” He shrugged, “I would’ve gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you meddling kids,” He joked as he walked towards the lodge, Dylan following behind, hands in a surrendered pose, “I won’t tell if you won’t,” (Y/N) rolled his eyes, “Sure, buddy,”

“So,” Dylan started, eyes glancing around the trees and trail, “you arch?”

“Huh?” (Y/N)’s face contorted in confusion, wondering what the fuck is going through his head.

“Archery, you arch, y’know?”

“… uh, yea-s?” (Y/N)’s favorite, socially awkward boys. Cute, socially awkward boys.

“Cool, cool,” He trailed off, “So, how long have you been into it?”

“Oh, uh, well, did it on a school field trip once, like, eight years ago maybe? I don’t know, but I liked it so I begged to do lessons and now I’m here.” Good story telling skills.

Dylan hummed, keeping his eyes to the ground in front of him as they talked. “So, is it fun?” He paused for a moment, “Like, just shooting stuff?”

(Y/N) snorted, Just shooting stuff. Sure. “Well, it’s more than ‘just shooting stuff,” he quoted with his fingers, “It’s, uh… it’s kinda just nice, I guess. Feeling the arrow zoom away and hearing it hit what you were aiming for. It could also be a good stress relief.” (Y/N) shrugged, kicking a tiny rock in his path.

“Cool. I’ve always thought about trying it, seems interesting.” His eyes scavenged the area around them, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his face. Probably the heat.

“Well,” (Y/N) started, sheepishly, “If you want, maybe one of these days I can show you the ropes.”

“Don’t you mean ‘string’? Heh, get it? ‘Cause-” (Y/N) interrupted Dylan with a soft punch to his arm, a grin on both of their faces.

“Yes, Dylan. I get it.” Dylan’s goofy smile stayed on his face as he rubbed his arm in fake pain, “So, you in?”

He pretended to be in deep thought, crossing his arm and rubbing his chin as he hummed, “Y’know what? Sure, it’s a date!”

(Y/N) coughed, suddenly forgetting how to breathe as he felt his face become warmer, “Yeah, okay then, it’s a date.”

Dylan’s face began to hurt from smiling so much, but it was worth it when (Y/N) was the cause of it.

“Fuck, what time is it?” The two panicked, not having phones to check the time didn’t help. “Fuck, run?”

“Run.”

*********

It’s short, its bad, i dont care hope someone likes it and maybe request some quarry