All You Have To Do Is Sing

I am very liberal with the block button - i do not debate people, i do not entertain slurs or real life criminal accusations over fiction. You only have to say something weird around me or to me ONCE, and you are gone from my internet experience. I have no interest in "defending" myself or giving whatever else attention you are seeking. You are talking to yourselves, as i have repeated time and time again. I don't know what it is your saying or doing, but good luck with that. or sorry it happened to you.

i'm MOVING alot of my old works off of FFnet, where you can find them unedited and in their original state. You will occasionally see me post decades old fics! sometimes i throw a fresh coat of paint over them. But I will always specify when i wrote them, as some are so old i was still in grade-school, if you can imagine.

All my NEW wips include:

Dear Maria Count Me In: Shadria-centric found family fic. updating semi-regularly again

Icarus to your Certainty: My current DD:DNE. Last chapter pending.

All You Have To Do Is Sing: Updating regularly! The Lullaby Arc is underway

these are LONG TERM wips! If you see me post an old fic or a new one-shot no you didn't it's just where my muse diverted me atm

WIP list will be updated as fics wrap up.

The huntress was valiant. Noble and clever. The day he'd come across her, he understood what his bearer had said to him, before signing off on his request to be allowed upon the hunting grounds.

You will find many things, in that little dirt planet floating in the middle of the galaxy. Our neighbors paraded themselves as gods, but is the Oomen who drew lines in the sand that they meant for us to see from the sky above.

It's not a thing she understands.

Te'jeiros cannot make her understand. Not yet, anyway. Not until she calms, and stills, and lets him feed her flesh and blood.

"n—No! NO —!" after all, with all her screaming, it is easy for him to stuff his stumped hand into her maw. He has bled much, but not enough to to make him sway. Not enough to make him loose purpose.

The huntress gags. Little bubbles of her spit and his ichor forming along the her face as she struggles beneath him. She likes to kick, but connects with the air instead of his abdomen. Even so it is an admirable resolve.

He watches her eyes begin to roll back as she struggles to breathe.

Still, Te'jeiros waits for her body to go limp before he can be sure to pull his weight off of her. Whether she has wanted to or not, she has ingested much of his blood. And the sight of it spilling from her lips is worthy of the murals of his family home.

She truly is remarkable thing.

An intelligent warrior. A beautiful female.

Even now, as Te'jeiros began to sway a bit on his feet, he cannot let go of the sharp possessiveness that overtakes him. To see her here. On his ship. Far from the Oomen who had mistreated her.

Yes, she had severed his arm, but what male worth their pound of flesh would complain about the hardships of courtship?

He deserved it. She had nearly bested him.

But because she hadn't, by some miracle of Paya where her clever trap might've killed him if he had tilted his head just so, Te'jeiros had proven to be in true-match in every way. She need only accept him, now.

He got to work cleaning his wounds before tending to her own. Hist stump arm needed immediate attention, while the rest of him would keep.

Te'jeiros administered the salves and healing ointments methodologically. Trying not to get distracted. Yet every mark she'd left on his body felt sacred. Sharp — sensual jolts through his being as he moved or stretched or even breathed. For a Yautja to be thusly claimed was akin to her already embedding bonding scarification over him.

Te'jeiros purred as he licked fondly at his dried wounds.

Wounds that so clearly stated who he belonged to.

Te'jeiros steadied his breathing, as he finally focused on his huntress's needs.

Though his body longed for rest, it longed far more ardently to finally be able to touch her, up close. She slept deep. And the wounds along her body likely added to her exhaustion. But Te'jeiros would see her cleaned and healed.

He only needed to reign himself in, as he did so.

Easier said than done, as his mandibles caressed the temple of her forehead. Good hand caressing her long hair. She would need to be bathed properly, and more was the pity for it, to dilute her natural scent. But infection would not do.

Not when he finally had her all to himself.

He lifted her body. Slung over his shoulders where he wished to have her pressed against his chest. Perhaps when he had more time, for now he took her to his refresher. A need to see her well overtaking desire.

He placed her at the base of his washer. Pulling apart every article of clothing as if they were silk. The water ran warm, where he had it pour lightly beside her, careful with his washcloth as he gently cleansed her legs, her arms. As best he could, given the state of his arm.

With a trembling hand, he slid her clothing from her shoulders.

Even now, with her body bare before him, Te'jeiros let out a soothing series of purrs. Regretful that she felt so strongly over his mistake. His jealousy.

He leaned in close and licked along her neck, begging, "You will forgive me, in time, my mate."

Te'jeiros had stalked the lion when he first came upon her majesty. He'd seen it attack an Ooman male with sharpness of intent, and had wanted to wrestle with the beast himself, before it scurried away.

The Ooman female was also hunting the lion.

But she was clever about it. She tracked it with ease, in such a way that one of the Oomen males in her party differed to her judgement. She caught wind, here and there, of Te'jeiros's own tracks. Far more readily than the others.

Does she know that I'm here? He had thought, watching her. The darkness of her hair intrigued him. The slight form of her body. She carried herself well, for a being far smaller than him.

It was not until she saw him climbing upon the lion's tree that Te'jeiros thought to himself, She is a true huntress of her clan.

There was only one way to test her. To draw out the lion, to see what else she would do.

Her brother had stolen her kill.

So her brother had to die.

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The twin-suns were dimming.

In any other planet, some of the greatest minds would come together and address the problem as the global threat it is.

On Yautja Prime?

Half the planet holds a 20 day war until the council of Ancients form an emergency summit meeting and suggest that, perhaps, killing each other is not going to appease the Gods enough to keep their suns from getting colder.

Several religious leaders are forced to share a space and declare that the suns' diminishment was not a sign of Paya's anger at them, or Cetanu's promise to claim them all in some ancient apocalyptic scenario writ in the tomb of a great leader who died several hundred centuries ago.

And still, after all of this, yet another round of voting was had to declare a state of emergency grievous enough to elect a planetary Predator King, who had to oversee and allocate resources to face the ordeal in a calm, rational manner.

Which is how Dek found himself saddled with this c'jit pauking job.

"The Eridians helped Earth from their sun dying, I'm sure if we connect with them, they'd extend that sort of grace to Yautja Prime."

Granted. Thia had been the true reason Dek had spoken up at all. She was synthetic, and moreover, she was a scientist. She knew many of the Yautja within the intellectual-sphere, who were quick to form committees of their own as their respective clans lost their minds during the aforementioned warring.

Dek had been dragged into it all by merit of being Thia's mate, or rather, her being his mate. And he'd been one of the only hunters patient enough to pauking listen to the engineers and the technicians and the biochemists and any living Yautja whose vocation had not stopped at killing the deadliest prey.

Their suns were dying for Paya's sake, Dek did not understand why it was taking the rest of the pauking planet forever to catch up with logic and reason.

"But if the so-called Eridians gave the solution to Oomans, do you now simply posses the knowledge within your system, that you might now give it to us?" one of the older female Yautjan scientists, Yaquita, spoke.

At that, he watched his mate's mouth frown, "Earthlings…are a very covetous species. Once they managed to save their own planet, several corporations decided to hide the solution behind a paywall. That way, if any of the human colonies ended up faced with the same issue down the line, they'd profit off of selling the "taumeoba" to them. It's all…a very dishonest and inhumane system set up by those in power."

"Su'ya!" the female chuffed, "It is no wonder why your creators are often pauking up space faring for their kind."

Several of the attendees began ruminating about the unreliable nature of Oomen. Several of them bemoaning that they could not simply reach out to one of the out-lining colonies to see if they had any knowledge, that did not require Prime to negotiate with on a larger scale with the figureheads of Earth.

"Being a Weyland-Yutani synthetic, I know certain things that would otherwise be censored to the public, but there's no reason for me to know how to keep the Patrova Line's astrophage from consuming a star," Thia had continued to explain, shrugging with the reality of it, "If I had perceived Genna's star was dying, for instance, when I had been sent there, I would've called for the company to send another team of specialists. If they'd had deemed it an acceptable expense…"

She trailed off, allowing for her colleagues to fill in the rest.

Much of humanity is corrupt institutions. Dek has heard his fair share of horror stories form Thia's own lips, and though for a long time he has had not better opinion of his own race, he felt it clear that Oomen rarely if ever did well with alliances.

"It is too much of a risk, to contact anyone from Thia's Earth," he said, with some authority he probably should not have, if he'd known what would come of it, "They would want things from us in return, and we are already struggling amongst ourselves what with the Ancients wrangling together the warring continents. We should contact the Eridians, as Thia suggests."

"Cut out the middle man," Thia nods, with a smile.

The meeting continued on, into developing a method of contact or signaling and trying to determine where Erid was relative to Prime. Dek was less helpful in this regard, and preferred to step back and watch his mate in her element. She always appeared to glow the most when surrounded by Yautja who valued her input as a scientist, rather than simply his mate.

"They will name you Yautja King for this."

Is what Ni'mue said to him, when Dek had fully left the room.

"The pauk are you talking about?" is how Dek had responded. Unnerved from the start that the Warlord had shown up to these proceedings at all.

He was famous for pageantry and being something of a tolerated ic'jit, he hadn't seemed to Dek as someone who would be supportive of the non-violent minds of Yautja society. Yet here he was, funneling all manner of resources to the amassed scientists who were keeping their world from dispensary.

"The brains like you," Ni'mue said, as if it clarified his words, "They like that you respect them."

"They are respectable Yautja," Dek frowned, "More should be heeding their counsel instead of harassing the Ancients who are trying to keep us all from eating each other."

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