lila

-

Honorable tribesman Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, son of Chief Hakoda, Hero of the 100 Year War

No.

May your inner fire warm you

Fire Lord Zuko

-

Dear Jerk Lord of the Jerk Nation, Master Jerkbender and All-Around Jerk

quit being stingy and send me what i need. seriously. the fate of your nation is at stake. LOOK:

[drawing of two pickles, a stick figure and waves]

Hot regards

Sokka

-

Sokka

Your drawing makes no sense. I'm writing a law which bans you from owning a messenger hawk.

I found you three volunteer firebenders who can lightningbend. They'll be there in a week with four carts of copper. If you need construction workers, beg Toph, don't bother me.

Feed Hawky better. He's malnourished, he keeps begging me for more food.

And don't do that.

Fire Lord Zuko

3.

Dear Honorless Usurper

My, how the time flies. It seems as if it was only yesterday that I was supposed to be crowned Fire Lord, and here we are, celebrating the first full year of your doomed reign. I salute you.

Know this: you won't know peace for long. I have entered into an alliance with Admiral Noboru. He is a true patriot and has kindly offered me three ships and 2000 men to retake the throne. He has also generously offered to serve as my consort, "despite my mental deficiency."

I am writing as a courtesy, as it is obvious that the throne will soon be mine. I might even let you live.

May Agni's light shine on you*

Azula

Fire Lord-in-exile

[* common benediction for the dead during Fire Lord Zuko's reign]

-

Dear Sister

Thank you for writing. I spoke with Noboru. I told him that I was allowing an Agni Kai and that you were on your way.

Noboru has fled the country. He gifted you his whole estate, see the enclosed list. He said to tell you he's sorry and not to come after him.

Please come visit any time. I hope your healing is going well.

May your inner fire warm you

Your brother Zuko

[enclosed: A list of assets including a home in the 5th Province, a vacation home on Ember Island, 20 acres of farmland, a substantial amount of gold and silver and assorted property]

4.

Zuko

this is the worst copper i've ever seen??? i want a refund. you're the worst copper merchant ever.

sokka

-

Sokka

You didn't even pay for the copper. I'm not giving you a refund. And I'm not a copper merchant. I didn't even buy it, somebody else did. What's wrong with it?

I can send you more if you need?

Fire Lord Zuko

-

Sokka

I sent you two more carts of copper. This is the best copper we have, so if it's not good enough, you can get your own and stop mooching off of me.

Fire Lord Zuko

5.

[on a thin sheet of metal]

Sparky! Earth Rumble 8 is two weeks from now. I'm coming to pick you up in the morning two days before.

Check it out: I can write now. Katara helped me with the characters but I've got it now. Hawky isn't strong enough to carry these, but Katara's dad is letting me borrow Seabreeze.

It's TOPH.

-

Dear Lady Beifong

You can't just come pick me up! I'm the Fire Lord. Two weeks isn't enough time for me to arrange days off.

I'd like to come watch you knock some heads, but I can't. Sorry.

Feed Seabreeze. Seriously. What's wrong with you people? Every bird you send me is starving.

May your inner fire warm you

Fire Lord Zuko

-

[on a thin sheet of metal]

Sparky. Thanks for sending me a sheet of paper but my privy is stocked. I can guess what it says though: "I can't go I'm so busy and I'm too much of a wimp to clear my schedule"

I'm coming to pick you up. Tell your guards they can either get out of my way or get CRUSHED. It's gonna be fun.

It's TOPH.

-

At least the aliens were unconscious during your examinations, but there was always the slim, terrifying chance they might wake up and eviscerate you.

You stuck to a strict schedule, never missing a second. A tiny delay in your work could mean your death.

One day, while working on a xenomorph, the facility alarm blared through the room. The doors slammed shut, completely locking you in.

You didn’t even know what to panic about first: the fact that you were now trapped with a deadly alien… or the reason the lockdown had triggered in the first place.

What could’ve possibly escaped that made the entire facility seal itself off?

Seconds dragged like hours as your shaking hands fumbled with the manual override.

You finally got the door halfway open, only to find yourself face to face with another alien. One you recognized.

Its mandibles clicked as it tilted its head at you in a strange, almost curious motion.

Your mouth went dry as you stared. You remembered all the times you’d examined this particular yautja, speaking softly to yourself while studying its body.

“Please, don’t,” you whispered, raising your hands in surrender, trying to make yourself look as small as possible.

The yautja just stared, its head tilting slightly again, studying you.

Maybe it recognized your voice, all those hours you spoke aloud while working.

A deep, rumbling purr built in its chest. You blinked, stunned.

Then, in a flash, it shoved you aside—just in time.

The xenomorph behind you lunged, missing you by inches.

The yautja caught it mid-air, gripping it tightly. Their battle had begun-

It wasn’t really about the parties, or even the attention that followed when you showed up wearing something spooky and clever. It was about the process. Stitching together pieces of darkness and imagination, building something eerie that felt entirely yours.

But this October was different.

It hadn’t been long since Keth’raal began his visits, silent, sudden and always unexpected. He came not only out of curiosity, but to make sure you were still safe, still where he had left you last.

He had admitted once, in that low, rumbling tone of his, that when he found you again, he wasn’t sure your scent would linger long enough for him to track you again.

“You found me by my… scent?” you had asked, eyes widening almost in disbelief, like the first time he found you in the lab.

He hadn’t answered. Instead, he picked up something from your shelf, a glass figurine, and turned it over in his claws with almost childlike distraction. You had chosen not to press. His silence was answer enough.

Now, though, he had made it clear. Next time you moved, you were to tell him.

And even if you didn’t, you knew he would find you anyway, the proof was hanging from your neck and wrist. The necklace and bracelet he had given you weren’t just for translation, no matter what he had claimed. You could feel the faint hum of the devices, the steady pulse beneath your skin that told you he could find you anywhere.

You didn’t mind.

In fact, you found it endearing. That this, huge, alien hunter, needed to know where you were.

That he cared enough to ensure he would never lose you again.

And every time that thought crossed your mind, it left your cheeks burning and your heart pounding in your chest.

It was the beginning of October, and Keth’raal hadn’t shown up for a week.

You had spent more nights than you cared to admit staring at the sky, searching for a familiar shimmer among the stars, anything that might hint he was still out there. You told yourself not to worry, that nothing bad had happened. But deep down, the silence gnawed at you.

It wasn’t just concern, it was that quiet, uncomfortable ache of missing him.

You had grown used to his visits, even the brief ones. The longest had been six hours, the first night he found you again. You had stayed up talking until dawn, sharing words, gestures and half-understood silences that said more than language could.

Lately, though, his visits had been short. An hour, sometimes less. He always said he had “things to take care of,” and you didn’t ask what that meant. You already knew. He was hunted, by his own kind, maybe by humans too.

Still, knowing didn’t make it easier.

Thankfully, October brought its own distractions. Work kept your mind busy and Halloween gave you something to pour your restless energy into.

You sat on your couch, phone in hand, scrolling endlessly for the perfect idea. Over the years you had dressed as everything from a ghost to a vampire and last year’s demon costume had been so terrifying you had scared yourself every time you caught a reflection. But this year needed to be different.

Because this year, there was a chance Keth’raal would see you in it.

And you wanted him to look at you with that curious tilt of his head, those sharp eyes softening like he couldn’t quite figure out what you were.

Halloween would be so much better if he came, just so you could watch him try to make sense of the entire thing. You could already picture it, the confusion, the quiet study, the inevitable “Explain.”

You let out a long sigh, your head falling back against the couch. Nothing you saw online felt enough.

Until…

No. No way.

Your eyes snapped open.

“YES!”

The grin that spread across your face was unstoppable.

You had found it. The perfect costume.

Something that would absolutely get the reaction you were hoping for… if he decided to visit again soon.

The next days passed in a blur of paint, glue and far too much coffee to keep you awake. Between work and sleep, you were buried in costume pieces, body plates, a weapon and the most crucial part, the mask.

You had thought it would take a week, maybe two. Almost a month later, you were still hunched over your desk, brush in hand, fussing over the last stubborn details.

The armour was coming together. Spray-painted, hand-painted, every curve and edge meant to mimic cold metal. You had even given it a dull sheen, just enough to catch the light. The weapon was easy, a modified stick from the store, now transformed into something that looked convincingly alien.

But the mask… the mask was another story.

Your hands cramped every few minutes as you worked, trying to carve and paint each groove from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough to make your chest tighten with something between pride and longing.

No one else would know how accurate it was, anyway.

Only you had ever seen the real thing up close.

Finally, you stood before your desk, the finished piece gleaming faintly beneath the lamplight.

You sighed, arms crossed, studying it like it might suddenly come alive.

“Now how am I supposed to put you on?” you muttered aloud.

Your cat meowed from across the room, unimpressed.

“Can you help?” you asked, smirking to yourself.

Another meow.

“Didn’t think so.”

You exhaled slowly, bracing yourself. “Alright. Here goes nothing.”

Lifting the helmet, you eased it over your head carefully, pressing until it settled into place.

And just like that your costume was finally on, armor pieces strapped tight, weapon in hand. You made sure to wear the necklace and bracelet Keth’raal had gifted you too, not only because their alien design made the costume look even more authentic, but because part of you hoped he would show up after the party. Maybe you would get to talk again, properly, without him needing to wear that heavy mask just to understand you.

You preferred him unmasked anyway. You had told him that once, shyly, and ever since, he had made sure every visit was bare-faced.

You smiled faintly at the thought, giving the bracelet one last touch.

The mask fit you snugly, the faint smell of paint and glue still lingering as you adjusted the edges. The eye lenses were dark enough to hide your face but clear enough to see through.

You carefully walked toward your room to check the final result in the mirror. You couldn’t wait to see your reflection, to see how close you had managed to recreate his image.

One step.

Two.

Three…

A soft click cut through the quiet.

You froze, head snapping toward the sound. The window latch shuddered, metal creaking as the glass shifted under pressure.

Your heart stumbled once and then started to race.

Laser dots blinked across your mask, red and blinding and before you could process the sound of the plasma caster powering up, instinct took over. You bolted, stumbling behind the kitchen wall, your heart hammering against your chest.

“Keth’raal!” you shouted, but the mask muffled your voice, warping your words into something strange. “It’s me!”

The floorboards creaked behind you. A heavy sound and then claws against metal.

You didn’t have time to react before a massive hand closed around your arm, dragging you back. The next second, your back hit the floor, the air knocking out of your lungs.

You gasped, trying to speak, but the weight of him pressing against you, solid and inescapable, didn’t let you. You felt his breath on your neck, hot and quick, his mandibles clicking with sharp, impatient rhythm as his hand pinned both your wrists above your head.

“Why do you smell like the human?” His voice was rough, low and guttural, full of suspicion. The necklace translated over your throat.

Your pulse stuttered. You had never seen him like this, not against you at least. The full force of what he was, a born predator, stripped from gentleness.

He lowered himself, his breath dragging across your throat, the sound of his clicking filling your ears. You felt the tips of his mandibles brush the skin of your neck, tracing down, slow and burning. Every nerve in your body lit up.

“It’s me,” you managed, voice shaking. “Keth’raal, it’s me.”

He froze for a second, tilting his head slightly, his dreadlocks sliding over his shoulders and brushing against your chest.

“What?” His voice softened, but only barely. His claws flexed against your wrists.

“It’s me,” you repeated, breathless.

You could feel him thinking. Studying. The press of his body against yours shifted, less forceful now and more curious. His hand moved down to your side, tracing the line of your ribs, pressing softly as though confirming the shape of you. Testing your warmth. Your softness.

You tried not to tremble, but your body betrayed you. And he noticed, you knew he did, because the next thing you felt was his head lowering again, the sharp tips of his mandibles grazing up your collarbone, then stopping at your neck.

Your breath hitched. His hand remained on your side, thumb dragging slowly across your skin through the fabric.

Was he still trying to decide if you were a threat… or was this something else? Something instinctive and utterly impulsive?

Part of you wondered, maybe even hoped, that he wouldn’t recognize you right away. That you could stay here, just for a few more seconds, caught under him like this.

Maybe you would keep the costume even after Halloween. If it meant feeling him this close again… maybe it was worth every second of the panic.

Your hands found his head, thumbs brushing lightly over his closed mandibles.

“Na’kai?” His voice rumbled low, confusion threading through it. His head tilted above you, the red of his targeting laser coming from his shoulder cannon, fading from your face.

“Did I get you?” you asked, trying to sound amused despite the pounding of your heart that threatened to crack your ribs open.

You were blushing far more than you wanted to admit, staring up at him like that, his weight still hovering over you.

“Get me?” he echoed, straightening his back a little. His knees stayed planted on either side of you, caging you in completely. You swallowed hard, looking up at the massive silhouette that towered over you.

“Did I scare you?” you clarified, voice softer now as you pulled your hands back, rubbing at your wrists where his grip had left a dull ache over your skin.

“You’re pretty small to be intimidating,” the translator echoed, but there was something gentler underneath his voice. “But… a thought crossed my mind. Something could have happened to you.”

His gaze dropped to your wrists then, and he reached for one carefully. His thumb brushed over the inner skin, the warmth of his touch almost apologetic.

“Did I hurt you, Na’kai?” he asked, his voice barely sounding over the translator.

Your throat went dry. You shook your head quickly, hoping he couldn’t hear the violent rhythm of your heart against your chest. But you knew he could. He always did.

He had this strange way of feeling you, every small change in your breathing, every shift in your pulse. Somehow, his senses had memorized you.

Guess we’re connected forever now, you thought, a faint smile forming under the mask.

“So if you’re alright…” he began, his hand releasing your wrist as he leaned back slightly, still poised above you, his legs spread on either side of your body. A flicker of amusement sparking in his tone.

“Mind explaining,” he said, claws gesturing vaguely toward you, “what the hell you’re wearing?”

You giggled under your mask, trying to control your laughter as you made a move to stand up.

“You’re good where you are,” he said, pressing a single clawed finger against your shoulder and pushing you back down, flat on your back.

A new sense of superiority rolled off him, effortless and commanding and you were left stunned, propped up on your elbows, looking up at the sheer size of him. His green skin seemed to glow faintly in the light, or maybe that was just your imagination. Your eyes traced the way he held himself, proud, chest forward, every muscle speaking of power.

“I, uh… made this costume.”

“Costume?” He asked, mandibles clicking faintly.

“See, there’s this thing called Halloween…” you began, pausing for his inevitable interruption, but it didn’t come. He stayed perfectly still above you, patient, waiting for you to go on.

“It’s a celebration. We dress up as something we like and—”

“Something you like?” he interjected finally, head tilting, that subtle mimicry of curiosity that made your jaw tighten. He looked too cute like that, almost like your cat when it heard a new sound. It physically hurt not to reach out and squish his face like you would with your cat. But… that was a definite no.

“Yeah, it’s usually something scary—”

“So you like me,” he said matter-of-factly, “and I’m also scary.”

You almost choked on air. It wasn’t a question, he said it with complete confidence and that teasing tone of his sent your pulse racing all over again. Just minutes ago, he had you pinned, his predator instincts in full force… and now he was teasing you like it never happened.

“I mean—” you started, fumbling for words.

“Do you have mandibles under the mask too?” he asked suddenly, his clawed finger lifting toward your face. Slowly, he pressed against the edge of your mask, nudging it upward. You held your breath without meaning to.

It almost felt like the first time you met, that same nervousness blooming in your chest, that sense that letting him see your face again meant something.

“You know,” he said, voice lower now, “we reveal our faces only to those who have earned our respect.”

His words lingered between you.

“Have I earned your respect?” he asked, his tone deepening, the question gruff and deliberate as the mask shifted higher. Half your face was exposed now, his eyes following every flicker of your expression.

You nodded, barely able to speak. He didn’t need to ask that question, both of you already knew the answer. The respect between you ran deep, unspoken. You realized, though, that he was playing along, treating you like one of his kind, indulging your little game. And you loved it. How naturally he could understand what you needed, even when you didn’t say a word.

With a final flick of his wrist, the mask came off, landing behind your head with a soft clatter.

For a moment, he simply looked at you. Studied you, as if seeing you for the first time. Maybe even admiring what he saw. The heat rose in your face as his gaze swept slowly from your eyes, down over the painted armour plates you had worked so hard on.

Then, he leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed your neck. His mandibles grazed your skin with surprising gentleness as he inhaled deeply near your ear.

“Smells like my human,” he murmured, voice rough and quiet. His hand rose to your face, claws tracing your cheek as his thumb brushed your flushed skin.

“Looks like my human,” he added, leaning back slightly to take you in.

“That armour suits you well, Sain’ja.”

You blinked, confused by the new word. Before you could ask, he was already straightening, offering you a large hand to help you up.

“Be honest, for a second you thought I was one of you, right?” you asked, taking his hand, eyes gleaming with mischief as you waited for his answer.

“Ka’thwei,” he said softly, his hand finding the back of your head.

“What does that mean?” you asked, your voice lowering instinctively at the feeling of his claws brushing through your hair.

You were confused as to why the translator didn’t work on some words. You wondered if he had programmed it like that on purpose.

“Aren’t you a curious little human?” he replied, shaking his head. A low, guttural laugh escaped him, rough and strange and endearing. It filled the air between you and somehow, it filled your chest too, tying it up in a tight knot.

“Answer me! Could I pass like one of your own?” you pressed, leaning closer.

“Yes,” he said, the faintest flicker of amusement in his tone, “if I squint my eyes very hard, I could have mistaken you for a Yautja.”

He didn’t even have time to react before you lit up like a spark. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” you squealed, practically jumping in excitement before throwing your arms around his neck.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up and you were already climbing onto him, hugging him with all the force your smaller human frame could muster. His body went rigid beneath your touch, every muscle tensing in surprise as your legs wrapped around his waist, the sheer force of your joy pouring through that impulsive hug.

Then, slowly, his arm slid beneath your thighs, steadying you against him carefully. Your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest as you finally pulled back, breathless and laughing.

And you could hear it now, that deep, familiar sound rising from within him.

It began low in his chest, building until it filled the space between you, a sound and a feeling all at once. That warm, soothing rumble that only he could make. Your hands trembled against his chest as the vibration spread through his body into yours and a small, helpless sound slipped from your lips, a quiet moan carried by the rhythm of his purr.

Your body went soft against him. Mind blank. Breath slower. You leaned your head on his chest, ear pressed to where the sound came from, letting it drown you in its steady warmth.

You tried to speak, but the words tangled on your tongue. That purr emptied your thoughts, melted your tension and left only the two of you in the moment.

When you finally looked up, his face was angled down at you, quiet, curious, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. And all you could do was stare back, caught between awe and peace.

“Tell me about this Halloween thing,” he asked, his voice low as he carried you effortlessly through your house, heading toward the kitchen. You clung to him, your fingers brushing against the rough texture of his skin.

“Uh, it’s like… an annual thing,” you began, watching him as he moved. “We go trick or treating, knocking on people’s doors. If they don’t give us candy, we scare them.”

He stopped in front of the kitchen counter, carefully setting you down atop it, but he didn’t move away. His body stayed between your legs, his heat surrounding you. Your hands instinctively found his chest again, greedy for that last echo of his purr before it faded.

“You hunt for sugar?” he asked, his tone curious, claws raking softly through your hair.

You laughed, a little flustered. “No, it’s more like… a prank? It’s fun. People just want to show off their scary costumes.” You shrugged, feeling slightly silly explaining it aloud to someone who’s actually terrifying for a living.

“Na’kai,” he said, voice dipping lower. “You go out scaring people… for fun?”

There was a spark in his tone, not judgment, but something close to amusement, even admiration. He lifted his clawed finger under your chin, grazing the edge of your jaw until you met his gaze.

You chuckled, though it came out breathless, your pulse jumping as his green eyes caught yours.

“Do you have a roar?” he asked suddenly, his claw trailing up to the faint scar on your cheek, thumb brushing it.

“I’ll imitate yours,” you said quietly, almost shy.

“Oh, will you?” His tone changed, like a challenge or a tease, the rumble of a laugh buried deep in his chest.

“You want me to remind you?” he murmured then, before the translator caught up, his thumb drifting down to the hollow of your throat, pressing lightly over your pulse.

“Mhm.” You nodded, smirking up at him. You had missed his roar more than you wanted to admit, the memory of it still vivid from that night in the lab, when it had terrified you and thrilled you all at once.

But instead of roaring, he let out something entirely different, a deep, rolling purr that built low in his chest and climbed his throat, playful and rumbling like a lion’s growl. His mandibles twitched slightly with the sound, and your eyes widened in surprise before a laugh burst out of you.

“What was that?” you laughed harder, slapping his chest twice. “You sounded like my cat!”

“That tiny thing?” he asked, his hand hovering near your cheek again, claw tips grazing your skin as though he wasn’t entirely sure he was being insulted or adored.

You nodded eagerly. “Exactly like her!”

“Give me your best roar, then,” he said, his guttural voice vibrating through you.

You inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and let out the loudest, rawest “roar” your human throat could manage, until your lungs burned and your voice cracked halfway through.

For a moment he stayed silent. Then his mandibles flared slightly, surprised maybe, before he gave a slow, approving nod.

“Let me take you to Yautja Prime,” he said, tone almost proud. “They need to hear that roar.”

“They’ll eat me up for breakfast,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

He clicked his mandibles once, a sound like laughter, before glancing down at you again. “So… do you have to go and show people your costume now?”

“I—uh—yeah,” you said, blinking fast. “I was supposed to be there already.”

“Will you return tonight?” he asked more quietly this time, his head tilting as one of his dreadlocks brushed against your cheek. That familiar purr hummed softly between you again, lingering, and you smiled up at him.

You knew he was doing it on purpose, holding onto that sound just for you. He knew what it did, how it melted the air between you, how it rewired your heartbeat to his rhythm.

“You know what?” you said, tracing soft circles over his chest with your fingertips. “I think I’m going to stay here for Halloween.”

He tilted his head again, curious.

“I need to teach you all about it,” you added with a grin. “Besides, I have plans taking you trick-or-treating later and scare the hell out of people.”

Extra Scene

“Did you make this?” Keth’raal’s gaze dropped to the weapon strapped at your belt. His claws brushed over it, careful not to scratch it.

“Yep,” you said proudly. “I remembered the spear you had with you. Couldn’t pick a better weapon than that.”

“That spear broke way too fast,” he said, tone dry.

“Yes, but it took you that far,” you countered, crossing your arms. “If it wasn’t for that spear, you’d be dead meat.”

His mandibles twitched in amusement. “There are far better weapons. I’ll show you one day.”

“Or you could just give me one,” you said with a grin. “I can use it for next year’s Halloween.”

“Or not,” he rumbled. “You would hurt yourself. I’ve seen how you handle a knife. You’re not good with sharp things.”

“Excuse me?” you gaped. “Who helped you escape that damn lab? I was the one wielding the blade you picked for me!”

“Right, right,” he nodded slowly, clearly humoring you. “But you’re still not getting a weapon.”

You huffed, pointing to the mark right above your jaw. “Then this meant nothing?”

His gaze softened , something in him quieting.

“No, Na’kai,” he said, reaching for your face, his thumb brushing just under the mark. His voice dropped low and tender.

“This means everything.”

a/n: This was so fun to write and oh how I miss Keth’raal and his cheeky personality 🥲 I love seeing him and mc finally relaxed and enjoying their time together 🥹 This however is not an official continuation of the story! Maybe around Christmas we see their story unfold properly 🤭

🐚 Ha'rcar smells constantly like sea water. When he comes back to the ship, it's like he brings back the sea with him. No matter how much he bathes and cleans his scales, he always has that scent. When he is close to you and your scent start be similar to his, reminding him of the sea, he will be constantly nuzzling and keeping you close. Sea is his comfort and you smelling like it, it makes Ha'rcar feel safe around too.

🐚 Swimming together? for Ha'rcar, that's the highest bonding activity. His whole clan is based on swimming. Many courting and mating rituals happen in the water. Seeing you moving in the water with him would make him happy. Of course, Ha'rcar swims faster, and he takes a moment to realize it, so he would slow down and gently accompany you, supporting you with his body if Ha'rcar notices you are getting tired.

🐚 He is not very talkative due to his throat injury. He is very selective of when he wants to talk, since even just one or two words causes him pain. Ha'rcar talks through sign language, but even then, he keeps the conversation at a minimum. He is not used to having someone to talk to. So Ha'rcar values physical contact the most. Sitting together by the bonfire, bodies gently pressed together, to Ha'rcar it's like having deep long conversation.

🐚 His mask has a tracking system that keep up with what his hands are gesturing and translate it through an audio output in his necklace. He will give you a similar one so you can understand what he says, but he will also teach you his sign language once he understand the relationship is becoming longterm.

🐚 Since he doesn't like talking, he prefers listening. He is a good listener and enjoys the sound of your voice accompanied by the sound of the waves on the sand. Ha'rcar will always give you advices if he can, and comfort when words are not enough.

🐚 Do you want to nap but still stay in the water? Ha'rcar got you covered: he will let you rest on his chest and just float, letting the waves and his purrs lull you to sleep. He will use his tail and hands to make sure the both of you don't drift too far away from the coast.

🐚 If you are in danger, Ha'rcar won't joke around. Really he would turn into a feral beast: his home, his clan, his parents, his sister got taken away from him, he would die instead of having someone close to him hurt in any way. If he is scaring you, he would not notice until the danger is gone, then he will make sure you are not injured while also keeping a safe distance from you: he understands everything could have shaken you and Ha'rcar wants to give you the decision to either approach him or stay away.

🐚 Ha'rcar is very insecure about his face and neck scars. He doesn't consider them an honor, rather a reminder of his time as a caged beast. Walking, swimming, and even sleeping together, most of the time, he will have his mask on. For eating, Ha'rcar will go eat on his own and come back as quick as he can to keep you company. It will take a lot of time and patience for him to start feeling safe and confident to show his face around you.

🐚He is terribly touchstarved. The moment he feel your hand on his face, Ha'rcar will become an addict to it. Always asking for a pat, a hug or just stay close to you in any way, yet when you touch his face is when you will get him to be very needy, purring and looking at you like you are his world.

Nsfw starting from now:

🐚 He never had a mate (either yautja or human) since he always lived on the run and always felt either unworthy or outcast, so he doesn't know where to put his hands or how he is supposed to behave. It would be his first time with everything and this vulnerability scares him.

🐚 The first times would be slow, more an occasion to learn from each other; Ha'rcar has trouble with letting someone take the reins, but he is also not the type to take them. Taking it calmly is always the best route with Ha'rcar. He needs to be shown that he is safe, being vulnerable with someone you love is okay.

🐚 Being inexperienced won't stop him, though: he is a yautja, they are fast learners and adapts frightenly quickly. In a matter of days he will build confidence, he will test and learn everything his mate enjoys the most. He will observe which areas get the best reactions, and once he finds them, those hands and tentacles will make sure to satisfy everything and worship you.

🐚 He is a yautja from the Coh'urall clan, he has a few traits that will come rather handy: that tail of his never stay still, he can be quiet and shy, but the tail always gives out what he is feeling and what it wants. It will be wrapping around any limb of yours it can reach as to say "I'm here I'm not going anywhere" but also "Please don't go, stay with me"

🐚 Ha'rcar loves praise: compliments him a few times, and he melts under your hands. He will be completely following your lead. He starts to feel bad once you see his face scar during this intimate moment? one gentle touch, one kiss on the scar, a few sweet words...and Ha'rcar is gone, he will be purring and turn into a needy yautja.

🐚 Ha'rcar's hair are close to tentacles: they can move, wrap, and tug at things, and they are a rather sensible area. Touching his hair and covering him in praise? Ha'rcar will be a horny mess.

🐚 Sometimes, Ha'rcar gets carried away and has territorial instincts take over him. He feels blessed having a partner, and he wants to make sure everyone knows that. Claws marks, bites, you name it.

🐚 If he happens to bite too hard (he forgets human skin is not as though as yautja), he will make sure the wound gets properly cleaned and will be so careful around you until it healed.

• If you didn't know any better one would assume he's pissed, Snarling and glaring at you.

• However you know better.

• Sort of like the Rottweilers if you will

• Always wanting you near, fiercely protective and just pleaded you are there

• One way he'd show affection is just by letting you touch him as you please.

• If you wished to play with his locs? Done

• Want to lay gentle scratches over his form? Fine

• Laying there you are always met with deep rumbled purs.

• He would often have a hand on you in some way or another.

• Let it be his large clawed hands wrapped around the thickness of your waist, The top of your head in a playful way or even on your ass.

• His hand was no stranger to you

• As well as no part of you would be left without need, Food was plenty, Drink was plenty. Want shiny things? Easily done

• And yes- That includes Sex in this equation

• He loved your body more then his own, If he got your permission it was a quick fast and in a hurry to pounce

As well as he had a favorite time of year too.

Summer

The heat was unbelievable for you- Yautja Prime had two seasons, Heat and Humid Heat.

Absolutely no inbetween.

It rendered you too warm and your only saving grace was the thermal netting that was now going to be your saving grace.

While it was your least favorite time of the year it what your Mates absolute Favorite.

As he knew you would shed the longer more covered clothes for lighter things.

Any part if you that you'd feel self conscious about was out in the open through that thermal netting. Wrapped in only wrapped fabrics to keep you decent

And it made him quite literally salivate like he was starved.

It was the first day of summer and you already felt his eyes watching your every move- You genuinely did feel like you were being hunted.

Always lingered close and just out of grasp of his claws and fangs.

When it got close to evening and youd just finished eating you catch him from down the hallway were you planned to venture to your private room.

He was there- close to the grand sleeping den he had just a skip from yours, Arms crossed over his broad chest- His normal armor and cloak already put away despite it being relatively early. His eyes fixed onto you as you stood in the hallway

Clearly been 'patiently' waiting for you.

Your face already starting to warm up as you saw his burning gaze, His head softly gesturing to the den. A silent request.

Which you nodded at- accepting his offer without hesitation cause, Why would you turn him rocking your world?

He walked into the den then, waiting for you as you shyly shuffle forward.

One of the other females, The mother to R'Ka if you remembered correctly walked past you from behind clearly having been amused and spoke low enough for the collar around your neck to pick it up.

'May your legs work in the morning-'

She spoke quickly walked off with a chatter laughed. Leaving you flustered in the hallway.

• As stated before be hides his favoritism in a unique way

• Never outwardly showing how he feels- but drawing you closer into his arms

• 'Pets do not get their own rooms anymore'

So you'll sleep in his instead..

• Well he can't have something that belongs to him sleep on the floor of his room either!..

So you'll sleep next to him every night.

• You were not a position in his hoard, but a pillar to hold all he holds dear to him.

• A silent seat added to the table of his life. While not seen by most- You had taken the spot closest to him..

• A silent closeness he kept behind closed door, The doors he shared with you intact

You sit up from where you were lounging on the massive fur bed having just woken up from a bit of the nap since the heat had sucked some of your energy away.

Smiling sweetly as the door sealed closed behind him.

"You're back, How did the hunt go?"

Having expected he'd show off his latest trophy and growl something out about how grand it was or wanting you to place his trophy since it's your 'Duty'

But instead he was quiet only moving to set a metal crate infront of you on the bed.

Sitting up more now confused you look at the metal crate, reconizing it as a storage container. Calmly putting your hand on the censor you watch with a careful eye.

Your face lights up in shock.

There your met with things from Earth?

Fruits and Vegetables you've thought youd never see again, New books, You even saw some music and crafting supplies.

But what caught your eye the most, out of all the gifts was what was directly laid on top.

There a carved bone shaped into a ivory bangle and from what you could tell was from a Xenomorph by how it was colored-

Etched delicately with the yautja language and polished well. The words soft and poetic from the small words you could understand.

You knew what this was immediately.

A offering for you to become officially a mate of his.

All the Females who stayed by his side got these.. similar to a wedding ring by human standards if not deeper- However this was the most detailed one youd ever seen.

You looked to him seeing him staring you down as you held the jewelry.

Excitedly you slipped it only your wrist.

Immediately seeing The Warlord swell with pride at the sight.

He purred loudly and walked over to you, before flopping on the fur bed next to you and you were quick to climb into his arms and lay a kiss to the side of his face (Mindful of the tusk)

Hour 1-

Ci'tde smirked as he stared at Amir who was seated by his chair at the controls of the ship his hand down as Amir seemed to be 'attacking' his hand.

Amir bit him, Giving little growls as his harmless bites to his hand. A common things younglings did and Ci'tde actually found enduring about younglings.

With his free hand Ci'tde removed his mask, setting it aside as he let himself wind down a but.

Stretching his mandibles a bit as the mask did keep them tucked away and was to a degree a bit uncomfortable.

He felt Amir suddently pull away from biting his hand. Looking down he saw Amir staring up at him Before holding his arms up to him wanting to be picked up, which he complied with.

He calmly looked over the child as he held him, curiously looking him over. The dominant gene seemed to be Yautja, but those ooman like qualities were truly unique.

Especially those eyes- oomans had such expressive eyes.

Ci'tde chuffed a bit as he saw that burning curiosity in the childs gaze as he stared at his face- almost in awe or what the equivalent that a chuld so young could.

Amir little clawed hand reached tapping at the larger Yautja face just trying to figure out who this was-

Ci'tde giving soft purs to the child, Amir beginning to giggle at the other at hearing at least something he'd never heard before.

Amir reached out again touching the sides of his mandibles, grabbing at the males bottom tusk which he gentle pulled away from.

'Finding my face amusing?'

Ci'tde asked softly, He knew Amir wouldn't understand his language but he figured it was best to start now.

Amir gurgled a bit as if a attempt to reply.

Then-

Grabbing hard at Ci'tde loc and yanking with surprising force. Drawing an actual yelp from the Yautja.

He set the child down quickly as he growled low to himself at the painful pull of the appendage.

Hour 2-

The Yautja managed to recover quickly from the rather unwelcome abuse of his loc.

Having pulled them up so they were a bit more difficult to grab. This wasn't his preference however at this point a necessity..

He turned quickly as he heard Amir give a gurgled out purr as he looked in his direction seeing Amir reaching out to grab at the different weapons he had out but seeming one drawing his attention the most.

Rushing over quickly he pulled Amir away setting the youngling behind him to keep him at bay as Ci'tde was fast to everything away. Silently blaming himself for not being as responsible as he should have been with his equipment.

'Lets not do that-'

He hissed a bit, however did pause as he noted that he had a few things out but Amir seemed to want one in particular.

'So the Th’kwei? Interesting'

It wasn't as popular of a blade as it required some well placed skill.

Oomans had a similar tool called a Khopesh which was almost identical. Besides the bettering tech-

'It's a sign of a good hunter your interest in weap-'

Ci'tde stopped his little compliment as he rushed forward seeing Amir reaching for one of the spines of a recent hunt to pull down.

The Yautja running over quickly to stop him once more.

'Do not touch that-'

Hour 3-

Ci'tde had his arms crossed, Staring at Amir as the child who was currently seated on the floor messing with his mask. He felt like a small sacrifice to keep him entertained as it seems like if he didnt have anything in his hands he would cause trouble.

He hummed a bit to himself, Going over what he knew so far about Amir. However the times didn't add up in his brain-

He needed more information

Ci'tde pausing going into a side compartment and grabbing a metal and glass cylander.

He pressed the small device into the childs arm drawing a blood sample. The needle was entirely painless, Amir didn't even notice till Ci'tde pulled away and Amir tried to reach out assuming it was a toy.

Ci'tde held up the vile, taking in the unique blood. It was luminescent like his out but a ruby red color- too light for a humans red blood, but too dark for yautja vibrant green.

A almost perfect inbetween.

'Hm-'

He turned away to put the small blood sample into the mini cryo-pod to keep it from going bad till he could test it on Yautja Prime.

He'd head the heavy unsteady feet of the child before it turned into silence.

Ci'tde froze- Looking around wildly before his eyes caught Amir close to the main panels.

His clumsy little self slapping at the side of the panel, unknowing the low sensor for the ships camouflage turning it off and on quickly.

'No!'

The ship jerked slightly at the rapid change and he grabbed Amir quickly and held him away from.

He set the child back down as he made a quick correction. Confused as to why Amir decided to mess with the ship in the first place.

'No Dont touch-'

Amir looked to Ci'tde before loudly beginning to babble yell at the older Yautja. Ci'tde jerked his head back, feeling a odd sense that Amir was somehow cursing him

'No'

'GRIAOMF !! 'Click!' 'Click!' DOEBFOWL! Rrrr! 'Click!' 'No!-... 'Click!'

Amir yelled back, waving his arms a bit as if making a point at his yelling nonsense. Before looking to Ci'tde and slowly, damn near dramatically turning his back to him.

Ci'tde actually looked behind him as if trying to figure out who Amir had just spoken to cause it couldn't have been him-

'What- Just happened?'

Hour 4-

Ci'tde felt a bit tired, Staring at Amir as the child was currently trying to press every button on his gauntlet-

'Here'

He took off his wrist gauntlet, Pressing on the inside to deactivate it before handing it over to Amir.

Amir immediately taking it as he sat on the floor pressing the different buttons to his absolute delight.

The male sighing heavily.

Ci'tde was quick to learn that Amir was fast and quiet when crawling but clumsy when walking and had heavy steps.

So he knew that if it was quiet that something was wrong.

Which lead him to now being on edge everytime there was a moment of peace.

He watched as Amir stood up and began to doodle around sort of in circles as he continued to press his little buttons.

'At least he was keeping himself busy..'

Ci'tde rubbed his face a little. Wondering a bit how you had held up.. Thought by the fact you had been hysterically crying he figured the answer was that you hadnt-

Then once again silence which lead to Ci'tde

But he was just standing there standing there a few feet away in a mildly awkward half squat.

Ci'tde turned his head to the side confused why Amir was just staring at him perfectly still.

The direct eye contact made Ci'tde uncomfortable. Trying to figure out what Amir was doing- till he heard it.

A grunt and a wet gurgling sound from Amir diaper.

Before the larger Yautja closed his eyes and lowered his head at the realization.

'Please No...'

Hour 5 -

Ci'tde walked over to Amir and he picked up the child and leaned in slightly before he jerked his head away.

This was a smell he did not enjoy.. tucking Amir under his arm he grabbed his mask from the floor not caring of the drool.

He needed his mask back on for this. There was no way he was going to deal with this without some form of protection.

Looking around quickly he walked to the side room, a wash room in ooman terms.

He set Amir down for a second as he looked around at what he could use. Before hearing something slam and Amir yell.

Looking down to see Amir staring at the gauntlet on the ground.

Amir screamed the second it was out of his hands, so Ci'tde handed it back to Amir. Only for him to throw it back on the ground.

'Do you want to gauntlet or not?-'

Ci'tde wondered why he was actively talking to the youngling- he knew he couldn't respond and now was questioning his straining sanity.

He actively had no idea how to clean the child- Sure he'd changed younglings before but he didn't have the proper tools.

Nor did he feel comfortable doing so.

This wasn't his child afterall and he didn't want to overstep.

But also it could be harmful to keep the child in its own waste.

So he had to improvise.

Filling the sink with warm water he took off Amirs diaper with a cringe before just-

He just sort of dunked Amir lower body in the water. The child actually looking confused by this as Ci'tde as he sort of just rinsed his lower body with the water, occassuinally even moving him side to side as if the friction would help.

After a moment of this and a few rinses of water he pulled Amir from the water.

'Clean-'

Sure it wasn't the best way however it would work in this case.

Securing the improvised cloth diaper on the child moved to set him down but mid movement heard that awesome gurgle noise from Amir now ruined diaper.

Ci'tde closed his eyes and gave a slight roar to himself as he lifted Amir back up.

Hour 6-

He would need to apologize to you at some point..

Ci'tde felt like he'd been beaten to a pulp and felt to hang out to dry.

Earlier when he'd mentally thought of the idea of having younglings may be something he desire-

Was now a thought born from ignorance.

Instead he felt like castrating himself and throwing his reproductive organs into a black hole was a better experience.

Ci'tde had been around younglings before, it was a common thing within the clan to assist in the development, and yes they were troublesome.

But Never

EVER

Been around one as difficult as Amir-

He was a stubborn, clever little youngling that wanted to get into everything-

'Maybe it's the ooman blood'

He grumbled, seated against the wall of the ship currently throwing a homemade fabric ball and watching Amir crawl towards it to grab and either bring it back to him or try to throw it at his head- whatever he felt like at that very moment it seemed...

Then-

Amir yawned and rubbed his palm onto his face a bit.

Ci'tde saw his way out-

Sitting up a bit straighter as he realized that Amir was tired..

Which ment Amir would sleep..

Standing up calmly walked over to Amir.

'Time to Sleep-'

Ci'tde explained calmly. However the moment Ci'tde picked up Amir and started to head to put him to bed- Amir saw the bed, made the connection of.

This is Bedtime

He.

Lost.

His.

Shit!

Amir threw the tantrum of a lifetime as Ci'tde set him on the den and rushed out. Amir however flopped himself out and crawled out after Ci'tde not wanting to go to sleep.

Ci'tde now repeating the process as Amir continued to throw his fit. Not wanting to sleep despite being tired..

He looked up to the ceiling of his ship as he held Amir who was slouching in his arms screaming in protest to sleep.

'I will definitely need to apologize..'

Tag List (Since this is a Extra of Nurture Vs Nature)

The jungle felt as if it was pressing in on all sides. The air was thick with humidity that clung to your skin, soaking your clothes. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth and rot, and every sound—every buzz of an insect, every distant cry of something unseen—felt magnified beneath the choking canopy.

You trailed a few paces behind the others, silent, your eyes downcast but alert. Compared to the hardened soldiers, cartel enforcers, death-row inmates, and professional killers that made up the group, you looked out of place. Fragile. Docile.

And they noticed that right away. 

Stans had been the first to speak up. “What’s this? They start droppin’ cheerleaders in now?” His grin split wide beneath the grime streaking his face, feral and amused. “Lucky me. Haven’t had a woman around in a long time.”

Cuchillo chuckled low in his throat, flicking open one of his blades with an audible click, as though steel would give weight to his words. “Maybe she’s just bait, man. Soft skin, innocent—meant to make us forget where we are.” His gaze dragged across you, sharp and unashamed, before he gave a low whistle. “Not bad bait though, eh?”

You didn’t answer. You refused to give them the satisfaction.

From ahead, Royce’s voice cut through the exchange, cold and clipped. “Focus. Keep moving.” He didn’t raise his tone, but the warning was clear.

Stans wasn’t deterred. He slowed his stride until he was beside you, elbow nudging against your arm as if to test how far he could push. “Hey, sweetheart. You stick with me, huh? I’ll keep you real safe.” His smile was all teeth, his breath sour with the rank staleness of gum chewed far too long.

From behind, Nikolai muttered something sharp in Russian, the weight of his glare enough to freeze a braver man. Stans only snorted, but he shifted away all the same.

Isabelle’s eyes flicked toward you, her jaw tightening as though she wanted to intervene but chose not to. She said nothing, though her discomfort was clear.

You lowered your head and walked on, refusing to let their words rattle you. Instead, you made sure to drift closer to where Royce, Isabelle, and Nikolai moved, safer with them where the worst of them wouldn’t dare push too far.

Your eyes shifted upward, toward the dense canopy. For a moment you could have sworn something moved—an unnatural ripple swayed the leaves.

“Everything okay?” Isabelle’s voice cut quietly through the silence beside you.

You blinked, forcing your expression into something calm before giving a small nod. “Yeah… yeah. I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

She snorted, the sound edged with dark humour. “You and everyone else in this little circus.”

You tilted your chin toward the left, studying the ground. “We should head this way. The soil’s damp. There’s got to be water nearby.”

Royce stopped, his sharp gaze following where you pointed. After a beat, he gave a single approving nod. “Good eye.”

Somehow, you and Royce had fallen into the role of navigating—picking paths through the choking wilderness, marking subtle shifts in terrain that might lead to shelter or resources. Hours seemed to blur together beneath the oppressive canopy as you pressed forward, the air growing thicker, heavier.

Yet something shifted, the jungle had changed. The sound seemed to have bled away the constant chorus of insects and distant cries of unseen creatures bled away, leaving only the heavy thud of boots and the ragged rhythm of breath. You froze, instincts clawing up your spine. A jungle never went quiet without reason. Silence meant one thing—there was a predator near.

“Anyone else notice that?” Mombasa whispered, slowing his pace.

The answer came a heartbeat later. A sharp crack split the air, followed by a streak of blue fire. It screamed across the clearing and tore through Cuchillo chest, dropping him where he stood. The stench of scorched flesh hit you even before his body finished collapsing.

Everyone scattered.

Stans swore, dragging his weapon free and bolting for cover. Hanzō vanished into the undergrowth, his katana flashing as if it could do a damn thing against whatever unseen predator was out there. Isabelle dropped to her stomach, aiming up through her scope, her jaw tight.

You ran with them at first, heart pounding, lungs straining. But then the earth beside you exploded, dirt and fire swallowing you whole. The blast knocked the breath from your lungs, sent you sprawling into the muck. Ears ringing, vision blurred, you gasped against the choking soil.

You tried to push yourself up, coughing, but the others were already retreating. You saw their backs vanish into the foliage—saw the moment they chose to leave you.

“Leave her!” Stans barked in panic. “She’s dead weight anyway.”

Royce didn’t argue. None of them did.

You stayed down, pressing yourself into the dirt, every instinct screaming at you to remain still. The shouts of the others faded into the distance, swallowed by the jungle until only silence remained. The sudden silence seemed to grow thicker before it was broken by a low, guttural growl that rolled through the air, vibrating in your chest. The sound was primal, and it sent a shiver down your spine. Heavy measured footfalls followed, drawing closer through the undergrowth. Every muscle in your body tightened as the brush parted before you.

Black armour caught the fractured light beneath the canopy, its surface dull yet menacing, etched with wear from countless hunts. A mask, cruelly carved with savage lines, concealed the creature’s face, as his gaze swept over you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You and the hunter simply stared at one another before  your lips split into a grin. With a soft groan you pushed yourself upright, every muscle aching from the blast, but your eyes never left him.

“How did I do?” you asked cheekily, reaching out a hand.

His clawed grasp met yours. Despite its size, his touch was careful as he easily hauled you to your feet before brushing the leaves and soil from your hair with a strange gentleness that only you had ever witnessed. A sigh slipped past your lips as you pressed your palm against the black plates of his chest armour, feeling the low rumble of his approving growl resonate beneath your skin.

With his other hand he reached up to remove his mask and your gaze softened at the sight of him.

“They suspect nothing of the part I played,” you murmured, lips grazing the alien ridges of his mandible as you leaned closer, your voice silk against the steel of him. “They’ll be exactly where you want them soon enough.”

His mandibles flared, a softer purr in his throat, that told you he approved and was proud of your success. He pulled you into him with sudden force, and your body melted against his. His towering frame engulfed yours, his arms an unyielding cage that somehow made you feel safe. The scent of earth and blood clung to him, the familiar scent of him had your body relaxing.

The humans had been all too oblivious to the true monster in their midst. You had played your part beautifully, leading them by the nose, herding them like cattle toward the slaughter. You knew the layout of this jungle far better than they ever could. The terrain was a map you had walked a hundred times before, your body remembering the unspoken routes your mate had shown you.

The Berserker.

Your Berserker.

The humans called him a monster, a devil cloaked in steel and shadows. His true name—T’varak, “Black Fang” in the guttural rhythm of his language. He was one of the strongest war-leader’s of his kind. Towering over most and brutal by even their standards. He was the one that others, even his own kind feared. But to you, he was far more dangerous than any monster they could imagine. He was yours. Your mate. Your love.

The camp was deeper in the jungle. You followed T’varak through the undergrowth, his towering frame clearing the path without effort.

Two figures waited at the edge of the clearing—hulking, armoured, just as fearsome in their silence. Tracker stood first, the beast at his side shifting restlessly, its glowing eyes locking onto you. For a tense heartbeat the creature’s tusked maw parted in a low growl—then its massive head dipped, as it let out a yip of excitement.

A smile softened your face as you crouched low, extending a hand. Your fingers brushed the ridged plates of its muzzle, the warmth beneath the armor thrumming into your palm. The hound rumbled deep in its chest, the sound almost pleased.

“Still a good boy, aren’t you?” you whispered fondly. The beast’s jaws snapped close to your hand in what passed for affection, sharp tusks flashing before retreating again. Tracker grunted, a short, rumbling sound that carried amusement.

You rose smoothly and turned to the other figure. Falconer’s mask tilted toward you, his head bowing in a mocking flourish as the sleek shape of his drone circled high above the treetops. He had always been the quieter of the two, sharper and more calculating, yet his mandibles flared slightly when he saw you—his equivalent of a smile.

“Falconer,” you greeted, inclining your head with equal mockery. “Still sending your bird to do the hard work for you?”

A rattling click escaped him, his version of a chuckle. Tracker growled something back in their language, teasing, and for a moment the three of you bantered like soldiers reunited after a long campaign. You were not an outsider here—you were family. 

The humans had given them their human names—Tracker, Falconer, Berserker. Titles born of ignorance, stripped down to the barest function and appearance. Yet the nicknames lingered, in a fond joke between you all.

But then T’varak’s shadow fell across you, blotting out the firelight as he loomed. His massive hand slid across your waist in a silent claim. The air seemed to shift with it, the easy camaraderie dissolving in an instant as the others recognized their leader’s need for his mate.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice a rolling thunder that filled the clearing.

Tracker and Falconer exchanged a brief glance before stepping back, their silence respectful, unquestioning. Without protest, they drifted toward the campfire, leaving the two of you alone beneath the canopy’s shroud.

Your mate guided you  toward his shelter, where a nest of furs lay piled high. The walls bore the weight of his trophies—bones, hides, skulls, remnants of kills long past—all woven into a testament of his legacy. The air thick with the musk of him. 

You stripped without hesitation, shedding the thin remnants of clothing until nothing stood between you and the heat of his gaze. When he drew you down into the nest, you went willingly, your body curling into the furs as you watched him strip away his armour piece by piece. Each discarded plate of black metal thudded against the ground until only the gleam of his steel neck plate remained, framing the scarred, brutal expanse of his skin.

Crooking a finger, you sighed in contentment when he finally lowered himself beside you, his weight sinking around you. His mandibles brushed against your throat, grazing over the scar carved there—the mark of his claim.

Your fingers rose, cupping his face, tracing the harsh ridges and lines of him with a tenderness that belonged to no one else. You had memorized every edge, every texture, long ago.

“You hunted well today,” you murmured, though he had not yet spilled blood. Not directly. It was all part of the greater game—the elaborate trap the four of you had woven together through years of practice and perfected deception.

His growl vibrated low against your chest, words torn through the distortion of his broken, guttural voice. “You deceived well.” His head dipped, mandibles ghosting once more across the scar at your throat. The faintest brush of them against your skin made heat stir beneath the surface, and you all but preened under the attention—his focus on you rather than the hunt.

“Mine,” he growled, deeper now, resonant. “Always mine.”

The words were not tender, not in the way humans understood tenderness, but you felt the truth of them in every rumble of his chest, in every careful way his massive hands cradled you. His kind had no need for poetry. Love was not spoken; it was carved into action—in the way he shielded you with his body, in the knowledge that he would slaughter entire worlds if it meant keeping you safe.

Your lips brushed the line of his mandible, and he let out a sound that was not quite a growl, not quite a purr—something that would only ever be meant for you, his mate. The jungle howled outside, alive with the screams of prey and the echo of beasts, but here in the heart of the camp, you curled into him, wrapped in the heat and scent of your mate.

“Take me, mate,” you whispered. “It’s been too long since I’ve felt the pleasure of your touch.”

T’varak let out a low growl as his weight shifted. You whimpered in need when his massive length brushed against your weeping pussy, your body aching to be filled by him.

“Please,” you begged, voice breaking.

“Patience, mate,” he chided, his voice a dark rumble. “Must make sure you are prepared.”

And he did. One long, thick finger slipped down to stroke your folds before pressing carefully into your heat. A sigh escaped your lips as he slowly pumped the digit in and out, mindful of his claws. Soon a second finger joined the first, stretching you further, and by the time a third slid inside you, you were already a trembling mess—whimpering, pleading for his cock.

The sounds filling the tent were obscene, wet squelches with every thrust of his fingers, your breath breaking into desperate gasps. When he finally withdrew, the emptiness made you ache, a hollow burn that had you clenching around nothing. Your gaze snapped to his, transfixed as he brought his slick fingers to his mouth, mandibles twitching as he tasted you. A low rumble rolled through his chest, thick with satisfaction at your flavour.

“You are ready.”

It was the only warning you had before he thrust forward, burying himself inside you in one smooth stroke.

A cry tore from your throat, nails digging into the hard planes of his shoulder as he drove into you, rough and unrelenting. He dominated you in every sense—your body, your breath, your very being. You were certain you were loud enough that Tracker and Falconer could hear every cry and every sharp slap of flesh, but you didn’t care. They would guard the camp, protect the perimeter, while your mate claimed you.

It had been far too long since you’d last had him, longer than you could bear, and the reunion was overwhelming. He felt too good, too deep, every thrust grinding against the place that made your vision blur. Your body trembled as it hovered over the edge, before finally breaking out into violent shudders as you shattered beneath him—screaming your release as pleasure tore through you.

T’varak kept moving, prolonging your orgasm with deep, powerful thrusts, forcing every last ripple of ecstasy from your body. Only when you sagged against him, spent and quivering, did he finally slow—his chest rumbling as he held you close.

Your body lay limp and sated, every muscle relaxed against the furs, but a thought tugged through the haze of pleasure. Your brows furrowed, and you lifted your head to look at him.

“You didn’t finish.”

T’varak gave a low grunt, his hand brushing over your thigh. “You need rest, mate.”

You pushed yourself up, stubborn fire sparking in your chest, and met his gaze with a glare. “I want you. I want you to feel good too.”

“Your pleasure is enough,” he rumbled.

You huffed at his stubbornness. Before he could stop you, you slid down the line of his body until you were face to face with his cock. The sheer size of him never failed to make you hesitate—thick, ridged, and massive compared to anything a human could handle. But tonight, you wanted to taste him. You wanted him undone.

“Please,” you whispered, flicking your gaze up at him with the look you knew he couldn’t refuse. Wide, pleading eyes—the one weakness of your warlord mate. He could command entire hunts, slaughter armies without flinching, but those doe-eyed stares of yours always made him cave.

His answering growl rolled low in his chest, a warning more to himself than to you. You smiled in triumph, your gaze dropping back to his swollen cock. A bead of precum glistened at the tip, and you darted your tongue out to taste it. The flavor was sharp, musky, intoxicating. His hips jerked involuntarily before he forced himself still.

“Do not tease,” he snarled, voice strained.

Your grin widened. And before he could react, you lunged forward, lips parting as you engulfed the tip of him. The stretch burned at first, but the reaction was worth every ache. His entire body went rigid, a shudder tearing through him as he fought the primal urge to thrust deeper into your mouth, to take what you were so freely offering.

Your tongue worked eagerly over the head and ridges of his shaft as you bobbed shallowly, whatever your mouth could not take you stroked with your hands. T’varak’s massive palm settled at the back of your head, his clawed fingers stroking through your hair with surprising gentleness. Low growls and rumbling purrs spilled from his chest, vibrations that told you just how much he relished this.

This ooman act was something he craved from you—something no Yautja female could or would give. He loved the feel of your tongue massaging his sensory bumps, the wet heat of your mouth wrapped around him, sucking greedily. This was not an act for breeding, not a ritual of duty. This was pure pleasure, and it belonged to the two of you.

You gagged slightly as you forced yourself to take him deeper, eyes watering. When you flicked your gaze upward to meet his, his mandibles twitched wide, and the approving purr that rumbled from him made your core clench. Spurred by his reaction, you pushed harder, working past your aching jaw and burning throat, desperate to please him.

You felt the tightening in his body, the subtle tremors that signalled how close he was. But just when you thought you might drive him over the edge, his hand tightened, pulling you off of him.

Any protest died in your throat as he dragged you up against him and, in one brutal motion, impaled you back onto his cock. Your mouth fell open on a sharp gasp, nails biting into his chest as he thrust into you with rough, unrelenting force. His thumb found your clit, circling it with the same brutal rhythm, demanding your release.

Your body broke quickly under him, trembling violently as your walls clamped down around his girth. Pleasure tore a cry from your lips, and the second you shattered, T’varak roared. His thrusts plunged deep as he finally spilled into you, hot and overwhelming, filling you with his release.

You collapsed against his chest, body limp and spent. His arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you close. He did not pull out. Instead, he kept himself buried inside you, plugging you with his cock as his load leaked around the edges of your connection. A content sigh escaped you, your cheek pressed against the broad expanse of his chest as his steady rumble soothed you.

“One day, you shall swell with my pups,” he growled lowly, giving a shallow thrust that forced his seed deeper into you, as though to seal the promise. You whimpered at the overwhelming fullness, but the sound melted into a soft sigh as you pressed a lingering kiss to the broad expanse of his chest.

“Soon,” you whispered, voice heavy with exhaustion and longing. “I missed you.”

“As did I, sweet one.” His reply vibrated through you, a deep, resonant purr as his massive body curved protectively around yours. His arms tightened, an unyielding wall of muscle enclosing you. “Sleep now. You are guarded by my brothers and I.”

You didn’t argue. Safe within the circle of him, you let your body relax, your breathing steady. Tomorrow the hunt would resume. Blood would spill, bones would snap, and the humans would finally learn the truth of what predator truly meant.

But tonight—you were home.

The next day, the hunt was on. Your mate had led you to a clearing where the earth was charred black, scarred by the echoes of old hunts. There, beneath the skeletal remains of twisted trees, he bound you against a thick trunk. The rope was looped haphazardly around your wrists and chest, just tight enough to look convincing, just loose enough that you could slip free in a heartbeat.

With one final purr and nuzzle, your mate vanished back into the jungle’s shadow. Tracker and Falconer melted with him, leaving you alone to play your part, the perfect lure.

An hour crawled by, the silence punctuated only by the distant cries of the jungle. Before you finally heard footsteps. Heavy, cautious, drawing nearer.

Royce and the others broke into the clearing.

Your head sagged forward as if you’d only just come to, hair hanging limp across your face. The sight of you stunned them into silence—several froze mid-step, disbelief written plain across their expressions.

“You—” Isabelle’s voice cracked, shock flaring in her eyes. “You’re alive.”

Nikolai muttered something under his breath, a hurried prayer, the barrel of his machine gun wavering.

But Royce didn’t move. His gaze locked onto you, cold calculation narrowing his eyes. “No,” he said flatly, as his gaze swept the area. “That’s too convenient.”

You raised your head slowly, letting your lashes flutter as though it cost you effort. You wove the ache of feigned exhaustion into every line of your face. “They took me,” you rasped, the hoarseness of your voice wasn’t something you needed to fake. “Dragged me off when everything went to hell. Please—help me.”

The lie lingered in the heavy air. Some of them wanted to believe it—you saw it in the softening of Nikolai’s stance, in the way Isabelle’s lips parted, desperate for hope. But not Royce. He wasn’t fooled. Suspicion burned heavy in his gaze.

“Funny,” he murmured, pacing closer, his boots crunching over brittle ash. “They kill everyone else on sight. But you? They tie up neatly and leave in the open.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing further. “Almost like bait.”

You let your bottom lip tremble, widened your eyes. “I don’t know—” Your voice cracked, raw and pleading. “Please. Please help me. I don’t want to die.”

“Royce—” Isabelle began, but he cut her off with a sharp flick of his hand.

“No.” His tone was steel, his stare never leaving yours. He stepped closer, looming now, voice dropping low. “All of us were sent here because we’re killers.” The words slid out like a blade. He leaned in, his breath hot with suspicion. “So tell me—who are you really? Because I’m not buying this scared little girl act.”

The others shifted uneasily.  Hanzō’s hand curled tighter around the hilt of his katana, knuckles white. Stans’ jaw flexed, his teeth grinding. Mombasa frowned, his eyes dark with conflict—hope fighting with the gnawing certainty that Royce might be right.

Finally, you sighed. A long, weary exhale that carried not fear, but inevitability.

“Always the smart one,” you murmured, your lips curving faintly. With a flick of your wrists, the ropes slipped free and you let them fall into the dirt at your feet.

The click of safeties echoed instantly. Half a dozen barrels levelled at you, all fingers twitching on triggers.

“Stay where you are,” Royce ordered.

You tilted your head, smirking. “You might want to reconsider that.”

Three crimson dots flared to life, steady against Royce’s chest. A heartbeat later, another found Isabelle. And then Nikolai. The three heaviest hitters of the group.

The air rippled with movement. One by one, colossal shapes broke free from the cloak of invisibility, dropping from the trees with bone-shaking thuds. Tracker emerged first, his beast padding at his side, tusked maw rumbling low. Falconer followed, his drone circling above with a predatory hum. And last came your mate—the Berserker.

Panic erupted. Shouts cracked through the clearing, boots scraping across ash. “Behind you! Move!” Stans roared, wild-eyed.

But you didn’t move.

You didn’t even flinch as T’varak’s shadow swallowed you whole. His arm coiled around your waist in a single, possessive sweep, pulling you flush against the black steel and heat of his body. Instinctively, without thought, you leaned into him. It was as natural as breathing.

A low rumble reverberated in his chest, a sound of possession, of triumph. Your hand lifted, brushing the alien ridges of his forearm, utterly unafraid. You nuzzled into him, earning another growl, softer this time, meant for you alone.

The humans froze. Their weapons trembled, but none fired. Confusion rippled across their faces, horror dawning slow and heavy as the truth began to take shape.

Royce’s voice finally cut through the silence, tight with fury. “You’ve been working for them.”

You smiled, it was cruel and wicked. You were a complete contrast to the docile girl they’d known. Tilting your head back against the towering frame at your back, you let your voice fall soft as silk. “Not for them,” you corrected. “…With them.”

Deep, sharp clicks rolled off of Uihoy’s tongue. The yellow of eyes glowing lightly in the dimmed room of the cockpit. A feeling of an insect crawling its way underneath his skin forced the male to shutter. The purple Yautja pulled his mandibles tight over his mouth and focused solely on a spot on the metal ground.

It’s just a hunt, he chanted over and over in his mind. They were solidifying plans for the moment. Any backup plans in case the hunt somehow turned for the worse. Retreating to live and fight another day.

Yet, Uihoy couldn’t get Vic’tao off of his mind. His thoughts were consumed by the yellow base and blue tinted Yautja. The way the male stood at the console, fingers gracefully typing away. His lethal, lean form stole his attention. Uihoy drew his mandibles tightly inward and gritted his jaw. The muscles that lined his neck flexing at the strain.

These two were brought up to despite the other, even challenge to the death. Except, they’ve gone against their upbringing to live amongst together on Uihoy’s ship. Uihoy could even say he enjoyed Vic’tao’s company. Even going to the fact he thought about wanting the younger male to be around more often than not.

Any opportunity to watch they male move with grace.

His purple scales shuddered. He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting away from the floor and up to Vic’tao. There was the yellow Yautja meeting his gaze all over again. Uihoy had to bite off a groan and clenched his hands into fists. Anything to stop himself from tearing about the console in front of him.

Something in the back of his mind clawed for the surface. A thought that made him turn it almost instantly down. This was enough he could do with right now. (Wanting to woo Vic’tao into mating with him)

A sigh sounded from Uihoy. Said male slipped out of his seat and marched straight out of the cockpit. He needed space, time, and fresh air before he did something he may regret later.

After the fifth time of meeting Uihoy’s bright yellow eyes, Vic’tao vowed to never look at him again. It’s not like Vic even liked Uihoy one bit. Everything he did irradiated him to the bone. It grated at his nerves watching the bulky, stout Yautja work the console like he was born with the knowledge. Muscle memory allowing Uihoy to glance over at Vic’tao’s staring self.

Each time, Vic was caught red handed. Both looking away at the same time. Not in a challenging way. All he wanted to do was admire Uihoy from a safe distance in a common area. Where he won’t be thought of as strange or rude for constantly finding his eyes on the older male. He didn’t think Uihoy would catch him every single time. The Yautja was good.

With a shake of his head, tresses swaying with the movement, Vic’tao refocused on the hologram in front of him. This was considered an average hunt for the average hunter.  At least, the prey was. But the lands weren’t something he was used to. Mountain terrain may drag his form down.

He may be lean and great at climbing towering, monstrous trees. These were a different obstacle to overcome. The face of the mountain terrain they were trekking through was like claws jutting out of the ground, tearing through the sky.

Many call it Paya’s hand. It wasn’t a place on Yautja Prime but a well known planet that those that decide to visit use it for training. The prey are well and plentiful, leaving a snack to a hungry, tired Yautja after a day full of training. Or to those looking to stock up for the next week.

Movement caught the yellow Yautjas attention. His head snapping over towards Uihoy. The male stomped his way out of the cockpit. Vic’tao furrowed his brow once the door slid shut behind Uihoy.

“What just happened?” he muttered to himself then shook his head. The mysterious ways of the homebound Yautjas will forever puzzle him. Mothership born are always much simpler.

That very next day, a pair of yellow and a pair of orange eyes found each other in the kitchen. Fresh meat stock the cooling box. Plenty to keep their bellies full for the next week. Vic’tao chirped quietly to himself, muscles freezing up. Not this again! The Yautja couldn’t believe it was happening all over again.

Vic’tao heavily ignore a burn that settled in the pit of his stomach. The logical sight of his brain shouting, demanding for Vic to take his life by the reins and actually do something!

In reality, the younger male continued to stand there. His feet felt rooted in the spot, molded into the  very metal floors they stand upon. All he was able to do was move his gaze down towards the ground at his feet. Focus on another else besides Uihoy. Don’t look at him. Vic’tao had to constantly remind himself. Uihoy distracted him. It’s all what he’s been doing every time they are near each other.

This time, Uihoy didn’t remove his eyes from avoiding Yautja. Actually, he narrowed his gaze and leaned forward on the kitchen island. Uihoy support more of his weight on his palms.

The small twitches of Vic’tao’s mandibles told Uihoy a wordless story. The younger male avoided his powerful, direct gaze. Uihoy even felt that he may have crossed into challenging territory but didn’t stop. Maybe, a small part of him wanted for Vic’tao to take up the challenge. What could possible turn out in the end one pins the other? Uihoy stood there, consumed by his thoughts for a few long seconds until he realized what had just pass through his mind.

His head jerked back, eyes wide and blinking more times than necessary. This time with Vic’tao… Being in the same ship for weeks upon a time. It as driving him insane! A mothership born and homebound can’t. It’s not logically possible. The differences in culture.

Let alone the thought process. Uihoy is used to nearly dying everyday from a predator on Yautja Prime. What did Vic’tao had to go through?

The anger he attempted to force into his system swiftly washed away. Uihoy rested back on his palms and let his head hang. What was he supposed to do in this situation? His hands curled into fists. This wasn’t the plan. Everything is jumbled mess of emotions he truly didn’t understand.

In his blood, his instinct, he wanted to tear apart the thing created all of these issues for him. It wasn’t the time for talk. There was no words in the moment to quell him. It was time for action.

“Uihoy, are you angry at the counter or something?” the youngster quipped with a short snort afterwards. The words snapped him out of his thoughts. His plan falling apart right before his eyes.

Uihoy raised his head and blinked a few times at the other male. Then, he finally found his voice. “No,” he drawled and tried to a reason from the depths of his mind. “I’m just… thinking.” If Uihoy could, he would’ve face palmed at the stupidity he just displayed.

“Huh. Well, what’s causing you to be upset?” he asked once more. Vic’tao had turned around to face Uihoy, head tilted fully to the side. The blue-gray, thin tresses falling off his shoulder. A singular brow was raised at Uihoy’s direction. “I can smell your anger from all the way over here, you know?”

Ah, there was no denying or hiding such a fact. Uihoy usually has a good control on his scent and emotions. Yet, this was new territory for him. A female… he could understand. The many children he’s sired are evident enough. With Vic’tao, Uihoy stumbled like the first time a combistick was thrust upon in his hands; told to fight for his life.

Was that what he was going? Trying to… mate with Vic’tao? Same sex isn’t seen normally. It does happen amongst Yautjas. At their base root, they must produce children for the next generation. So many don’t follow that route for a same sex mate. Some clans frown upon it, discouraging it for the next for the next generations.

Yet, all of this dancing, all of this toying, avoiding the issue has only caused more issues. The tension between them only building the longer either Yautja dismissed the feelings in their chests.

A snarl tore from the elder’s throat. Vic’s eyes jumped wide, mandibles twitching. His body reacted by preparing for a fight. Uihoy was on him in a flash, quicker than Vic’tao could comprehend. A mighty, purple hand wrapped around the taller, leaner male and held him against a wall. Vic’tao didn’t struggle. His eyes watched every twitch, every muscle that moved.

H'dui'se. Thick, heavy in the air. Both Yautjas tensed up, tongues darting out to taste each other’s scent in the air.

Nearly glowing eyes bored into the other. Uihoy could see it in Vic that he too struggled with these unknown emotions. Not unnatural… just new, unsure about how to feel. Uihoy was done fliting around.

“Strip. Now.” Deep from Uihoy’s voice came a sound that had Vic’tao’s scent doubling. It nearly made the older Yautja dizzy and lose his grip. He growled again and redoubled his firm grasp on Vic’s throat. The younger male didn’t move for a few, long seconds. Uihoy tightened his hand again. “Strip.” And he wouldn’t say it again. He would do it himself.

The seriousness in Uihoy’s eyes had the yellow Yautja undoing the knot on his pants in record time Neither looked away from each other. The clothe had been pulled off to reveal the entirety of Vic’tao’s well sculpted body. Uihoy laid a hand on Vic’tao’s chest and ran his lethal claws down to palm at his wet sheath. He toyed with it by running his thumb between the folds. Vic’tao keened and rutted his hips forward. His hands landed on Uihoy’s shoulders and gripped tightly.

“Don’t you pauk-de toy with me, home-world born,” he seethed and glared at Uihoy from underneath his brows. His hands twitched to turn the tables and pin Uihoy to the wall. Each touch on his sheath prevented him from committing to the thought. “Uihoy.”

Said male grinned wide, mandibles flared out in display and enjoyment. Able to knock the high and mighty youngster made his blood sing. “What was that?”

Sharp nails dug into Uihoy’s shoulders. Neon green blood began to drip freely from the new wounds. In a flash, Uihoy took Vic’tao down to the ground and placed a foot on the yellow Yautja’s chest. When Vic made a move to move, Uihoy added his weight. “Stay.” Vic’tao listened to the older male and watched as he stripped himself as well.

The little clothing he wore as well was discarded somewhere in the kitchen. Each male naked like the day they were born.

Uihoy lets his cock slip free from his sheath. A hand wraps around his girth and gives a few firm strokes. Underneath him, Vic’tao growled and tried to get up on an elbow. But, Uihoy bellowed a warning and verbally forced him to lay back down. Vic huffed and could only watch as the brightly colored shaft twitched against the older male’s hand.

Pleasure and need pooled at the base of Uihoy’s spine. The need to pin the other down was far too great for him to handle. With a snarl, Uihoy flips him around onto his belly and hikes his hips up. Vic’tao claws at the metal kitchen floors at the sudden change. His own cock slides out of its sheath and meets the warm air. It was already soaked and dripping onto the ground.

A thumbpad touched at his tight entrance. Vic tensed up with a yelp before getting a hold of his nerves. He didn’t care if he was on the receiving end. All he wanted was to be connected with Uihoy in some way or another. He shook his nerves off and rutted his hips back. Uihoy got the signal.

The pointed, wet tip was lined up. Uihoy didn’t waste a second on theoretics and shoved his hips forward. Pain and pleasure exploded inside of Vic. His claws tug into metal and scrapped against the floors. His eyes were screwed shut as he attempted to control his erratic breathing. Uihoy groaned at the feeling that ran up his spine.

He tugged his hips back in a fluid motion and rocked forward again. A steady, fast pace was set. All he wanted to do was take and take and take from Vic. Get all he could from the yellow Yautja. Uihoy wanted all of him. He needed all of Vic’tao as his own.

His mate.

As the thought hit him, he didn’t slow. He didn’t stutter. No, his pace increased. The fluid from his sheath aided him. Wet, obscene noises filled the open space. Every thought was consumed by the need to have this Yautja be filled with his essence. He wanted Vic’tao. He wanted his heart.

Once the pain quickly gave way to pleasure, Vic’tao reached for his aching shaft and wrapped a hand around it. “Pauk!” He toyed with the tip and pushed out more pre-cum to use it as lube. Then, Vic set the same pace as Uihoy the best he could. But the older Yautja was going wild, loosing himself in the pleasure and need.

Uihoy hunched over Vic’tao and locked his arms around the yellow Yautja’s waist. This anchored him to Vic’tao and let him keep the same pace. He was able to go harder. The stinging slaps of Uihoy’s thighs to Vic’tao’s butt and thighs only drowned the younger Yautja in more ecstasy.

“Mine. Pauk-de mine. My mate!” Uihoy declared with a roar. Vic’tao didn’t fully comprehend the purple yautja’s words and only went along with it. A heady whine left his throat as he could feel closing in fast.

Cum painted Vic’tao hand and the floor underneath him. He felt like he was bursting at the seams. The pleasure overwhelming to the point he couldn’t think or see straight. Vic’tao yelled out, hand squeezing his tip to push every drop out.

Each clench around his already sensitive cock sent the purple Yautja into overdrive. He didn’t care about the force or the speed of his thrust. He needed to knot him. All Uihoy could think about is marking the whining Yautja underneath him.

Uihoy’s eyes narrowed on the perfect place. Without another moment, Uihoy latched his fangs into Vic’tao’s exposed shoulder. Said male reared up with a cry of pain. Blood pooled around Uihoy’s teeth creating a scar that would bond the two of them. Vic’tao squirmed underneath him. Uihoy only tightened his jaw and mandibles with a thick growl.

It only took two more thrusts for the male’s knot to expand pass the stretch ring of muscles. Vic’tao sobbed into the floor. The ball of flesh pressing against a bundle of nerves inside of him. Uihoy continued to rock his hips the best he could, pouring what seed he could inside of his new mate.

Once the last of the buzzing of energy finally dispersed, Uihoy unlatched his teeth. Both of hands were on either side of Vic’tao’s head to lift most of his weight off of the limp male. Vic’tao was purring away, dazed and content. Uihoy snorted then used a hand brush away Vic’tao’s tress on his shoulder. His mate mark fresh and evident on the younger male’s shoulder. Uihoy couldn’t be prouder of himself at the sight. He could feel his cock twitch inside of Vic’tao.

He leaned down and nuzzled carefully above the wound on Vic’tao. “You did so well, mate. I’m gonna keep you. You’re mine now.” Uihoy purred his own tune to calm down Vic’tao’s wildly beating heart he could hear. One of his hands petted at Vic’tao’s side. “Stay with me, Vic. Please.” Yes, he could make all the demands he wanted but it all mattered to Vic’tao if he wanted to stay after this.

“As if I would pauk-de leave after such a dicking down,” Vic’tao mumbled underneath Uihoy. The purple Yautja couldn’t help but snort at his words.

The hand petting Vic’s side stopped at his hip. With an experimental tug, he was able to slip his knot out of Vic. Said Yautja groaned and tensed up. Cum oozes out of his stretched hole and leaked down onto his thighs then the floor. Uihoy tightened his hold Vic’tao for a moment at the beautiful, delicious sight. 

“Want another?” Uihoy toyed with him.

Like many of your sex, you were unsuccessful of gaining the favor of a female. A young, less scared male compared to those that have bested you in spars to near death. Anything to prove their worth for a chance to breed. Here you were, nursing your wounds, away from the dense population. There were a few others, scattered about like you, licking their wounds. You had chosen a high tree to pull yourself to the near top. From here, you could keep an eye on the crowd in the main square of the village.

Neon green blood dripped from wounds gained in battle against fierce opponents. As much as you hated to admit it, they were better, deserved whoever choose them after defeating you. Yes, there’s always next year for the season but only Cetanu could only tell if you would make it. Life was life. Death was death. You don’t know if you’ll be there to greet the next season.

Through it all, you caught a whiff of a scent that caused your blood to boil. Uihoy. The older Yautja was… arrogant in his own ways. Rude in others. Downright irritating if you must say. The male wasn’t one to mess with often. He did stick out like a sore thumb. His sexuality something that wasn’t popular among the Yautja kind. It did not produce offspring.

It is not frowned upon but discouraged. Yautjas were strong, mighty, and hunters. If males or females copulated with their own sex, the birth rate would decrease. Death was already high, especially for those that are young, learning.

Not that you had anything against mating with the same sex. No. But Uihoy was an icon for the village and he wasted his talents, his seed on something that wouldn’t produce anything. You scowled. How does a male like him not take pride in breeding with the females who are willing? You have to fight for your right while many females request him by name.

The tree shook from added weight. Your claws dug into the bark from the slight disturbance. Your head whipped down to find the face you wanted to cave in so badly closing in. Your jaw dropped behind closed mandibles at the sight. What the pauk is he doing? He knows I’m up here. This was purposeful.

Uihoy stopped to perch on a branch a foot above you, on the other side of the thick tree. A look of passiveness barely readable on his face. Not cocky. He knew his limits, where he stood on the chain of power within the village. Intelligent but respectful. He was about a hundred years from being deemed an elder. A title you believed he wouldn’t take. Not with the way he moves with ease.

Blazing eyes flicked between the cuts that marred your skin. You saw the way his chest rise with a deep breath. “Don’t speak,” you snapped at him and began to close up a cut along your thigh. The deepest, longest of any others. It required to be burned closed. You held your tongue when pain stung as the laser worked.

The purple Yautja snorted airily. “And why should I listen to you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you over a mandible while exposing his neck. Your eyes twitched at the sight before narrowing on form. The laser was forgotten about and drove off course. You snarled and turned off the damned thing. Your jaw and lower mandibles jerked at the unneeded pain. Yet, in the moment, you steel your facial expressions the best possible. Uihoy didn’t need to see you weak, weaker than he saw you as younger male.

A scoffed then light scratching from nails digging into bark filled your ears. Before you had a chance to take notice was happening, Uihoy hopped over onto your branch and knelt next to you. Uihoy snatched the laser from your hands. “Youngling, you must pay attention or else you risk injuring yourself more,” he scolded and began to work on the rest of the wound.

If you didn’t want the laser to stray from its path, you willed yourself not to jerk away from him. His touch was prominently warm on your thigh. The hand not holding the welder was resting right above the wound, close to the apex of your legs.

Instantly, you blamed the scents that filled the air for the feeling growing in your stomach, for the way your cock roused in its sheath. It was the pheromones that clouded your judgment. Your jaw was locked, throat closed to stop any sounds from escaping.

Then, his hand shifted higher. You had enough.

You shoved the bigger Yautja away from you then your feet were underneath you. A glare settled on Uihoy, ready pounce if it came to it.

Uihoy nearly slipped off of the branch he was perched on but easily corrected the unbalance. He stood a fair distance away from you with a large grin on his face, tongue flickering out to smell the air. C’jit. His head lowered just enough he stared from underneath his brows. C’jit.

A drop of freezing water dripped down the length of your spine, then Uihoy sprung. The older Yautja could move. Fast. Faster than you were expecting. His body slammed into yours. Claws dug into your shoulders as his weight throw you backwards. Off the edge of branch and heading towards the ground closing in quickly.

To save yourself from pain of a mild fall, you twisted your body and latched onto the nearest branch. Your shoulder jarred, nearly pulling out of the socket at the weight of not only you but Uihoy gripping onto you as well. You release a snarl and kicked out a knee at Uihoy. The male grunted yet took the hit. His talons dug into the flesh of your shoulders, deeper and drawing rivets of blood. You growled and attempted to throw him off. Your one handed grip was weakening.

Your other hand latched onto thick bark as you held on. The purple Yautja snickered and lifted himself up enough to hold onto the same branch. This was your opportunity to kick him, using his body as a spring board and land on another branch further down. The leaves rattled at your landing. You lowered yourself into a ready position as Uihoy lifted himself and crouched as well.

Cocky but not, Uihoy held an aura of confidence around him. His body was lax enough to let his guard down. He did have the high ground and left you at a disadvantage. You didn’t let him take any opportunities to attack though.

The trunk of the tree was used as a foothold to launched yourself high up, above Uihoy. His eyes watched your actions, body moving into a position to take anything you served.

The first punch of the day was thrown, right at Uihoy’s beautiful face; ready to send him flying off of the tree. But the male ducked and counterstruck with a fist straight to your stomach. It almost sent you careening off the edge once more. Your claws dug in to steady yourself once more.

He eyed you up and down, scanning for points of weaknesses. The same thing you returned for the shy moment given to the two of you before the giants clashed again. He came at you this time with claws. The skimmed acrossed your chest, drawing trickles of blood down your sweaty skin. You couldn’t help the keen before returning the same fire at him.

Unlike the purple Yautja, you weren’t as lucky to draw blood. Uihoy was pushing hard, fast, throwing things you hadn’t even trained about at you. At points, it was dizzying. Now, you were just trying not to fall off or perish to him. He had every right to do so. It wasn’t against the code.

Your foot takes a step back but the way the branch dips means this was the end. Anymore and you could meet the ground harshly. When Uihoy takes a swing at your face, you lower yourself down to a crouch. The fist flies milliseconds later over your head. You spring and pushed with all of your force backwards.

Midair, you arch your back and force all of your weight over yourself. Then, your feet touch down on a branch on a different tree. It wavers at the sudden, new weight added to it but held strong enough for you to back up away from the oncoming purple Yautja.

From one branch to other trees, the two of you dance for what felt like hours. Possibly could’ve been. You only come to release the overwhelming scent from the mating grounds is faint when Uihoy pins you to the trunk of a tree. A grunt surpasses your throat, eyes clued onto his burning ones. Filled with fire. A fire you didn’t know what sourced from.

A firm hand had found its way to your throat, encasing it and keeping you to the trunk. Instantly, your body went lax. Uihoy could snap your neck before you had a chance to even raise a hand.

It was a stern, mighty gasp that held you. Yet, you didn’t fear it. Anger filled your veins at the fact this pauk-de was taunting, teasing you like prey. You had little chance to win against. It was idiotic to challenge him in the first place. It won’t cost you your life. Not while that fire blazed in his orange eyes.

The male leaned in and let his breath fan over your features, eyes blinking slowly. Your scales prickled. His tongue flickered out and tasted upon your skin. His hand tightened. The other palmed along your hip, nails creating divots in the flesh there. “There has been something about that has intrigued me since I first laid eyes upon you,” Uihoy chitters lowly next to your ear. You shivered, throat bobbing from a heavy swallow.

That’s when you smelt it. Heavy, thick in the air yet sweet to draw you in. N’dui’se. You felt the blood in your body screeching to a halt and immediately rushing towards your core. Unsure, uncontrolled, your own musk entered the air. It swirled, combed with Uihoy’s as the Yautja grunt and pressed harder on your hip.

All of your muscles strained into action to pin the male down. Uihoy locked his own down and kept you there. The claws attacked to the hand around a vital part of your being dug into flesh. He released a chest rumbling bellow of a warning. He had you. You could only watch as the male leaned back enough to find your eyes.

The other limb skimmed down just a couple of inches then grabbed a fistful of cloth. Your waistband was promptly ripped off in one go and absentmindedly tossed to the side. Before you could even squeak something pathetic, warm flesh palmed at the wetting slit close to the apex of your thighs. Your head was thrown back, exposing your neck to the male before you. An action that could cost you your life if it was anyone else. Uihoy attacked.

Sharp, lethal teeth latched onto the flesh of your throat. Just enough pressure to warn you who had the cards in hand. Uihoy purred pleased and let his upper hand fall away rest on your hip. The other kept working away, causing more slick to build up.

His touch was driving you wild. He knew it. He was doing it on purpose. Your mandibles gritted together at the bubbling rage at him. Like a volcano with molten rock rising to the surface, ready to blow when the time was right. And you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of coaxing your cock out.

Gathering all of your energy, you shoved at Uihoy with everything you had. For once, you believed to caught the male off guard as he stumbled back, adding a fair amount of distance.

How wrong you were.

He was back on you in a split-second. Hands. Claws. Teeth. All seared across your scales until you were forced onto your front on the branch. Uihoy’s heavy weight draped over your back like shadows swallowing you whole. It was enough to keep you underneath him. A roaring bellow sounded from the Yautja as he made his claim vocal. “Ze-rei.” Fire. “You have fire that I want to consume.”

Despite Uihoy pinning you to the branch, you still wiggled and struggled. It wasn’t enough to throw the male off though.

All movements stopped at the feel of something blazing and wet resting against the tight ring of muscles behind your sack. Your eyes jerked wide open, head yanked up at the feeling. The head of your cock speared through your slit but didn’t move an inch more.

The body on top of you sat up. Hands grabbed at globes of your cheeks and spread them as far as possible. You squirmed this time uncomfortably at the fact he was putting you on display for him. Your claws dug into the bark underneath. “This is my new favorite sight,” Uihoy mumbled lowly to himself, a wide grin marking his face.

Then, the tip speared into you. Pain rocketed inside of you, eyes rolling back into their sockets at the feeling. Your mandibles flared open in a silent cry. But… you pushed back on Uihoy. More of his shaft disappeared inside of you, even if it was only an inch. Uihoy took the signal and thrusted his hips flush with your thighs.

Uihoy’s weight nearly collapsed on top of you as he struggled to stay upright. Something you never thought to see from the older Yautja. He tensed his muscles, talons prickling the skin along your cheeks and lower back. “I lied… this, this is my new favorite sight,” he growled before drawing his hips back.

The drag of each ridge and bump on the sides of his thick cock had you seeing stars already. All the way until just the tip was snug inside. Without warning, he forced his length back into you. The strength behind the thrust had you scrapping forward.

A low groan vibrated along Uihoy’s spine. “You’re so tight,” he stated like it was a fact. It was to be honest. You’ve never ventured outside to learn more about yourself. But after just the tiny taste, the littlest of drop from this, you’ll never be satisfied. “You’re going keep squeezing me out.” Uihoy bent at the waist. “Relax.” A hand placed next to your head while the other kept an even pressure on your shoulder blade. “I don’t know if you can even take my knot.”

Bark groaned as claws raked across the layer. You fantasized the thought of knotting another but never being knotted yourself. That ignited a hunger you never knew existed inside of you.

Fingers and claws ghosted down the length of your spine then diverted where your hip meets your thigh. Uihoy started a beginning pace to warm you up, to loosen up the muscles locked. Heat flared at the base of your spine as his touch palmed at the space below your slit. Your cock still barely peaking out. You weren’t going to give in easily. He had to take what he wanted.

The limb next to your head prevented you from slipping away from him, trapped under his thick body. His movements increased with speed but more importantly: harshness. Like any other male in the season, he was losing himself. His control slipping right of his fingers. There wasn’t a single thing he could do to stop it.

Thick finger grasped at what peaked out from between your legs. You gasped and rutted into the hand before a dark snarl had you stopping. The digits moved down where two rested apart from each other. They were in the space between your sack and slit, on either side of where your straining cock resided still inside of you. Uncomfortably. Very uncomfortably.

A single roll of his fingertips had you seeing stars. The rest of your length shot out like a plasma shot that it hurt at out fast it unsheathed. You choked out a harsh gasp and jerked back into the male controlling you. His hips went flush with yours while your muscles locked tight around his shaft. Uihoy roared. A hand flying to your hip while his claws dug into your flesh.

“Pauk!” he snarled into the tense air.

Something shifted in the air. You didn’t know what but could feel something change.

Uihoy reared his hips back just until the tip just sat inside. Without remorse, he bullied it back into you. This new pace was harsh, rough, uncaring. He was dominating you; taking what he wants and not caring about anything else. The only thing keeping you from sliding off the branch was the limb next to your head and his claws piercing your skin.

Your own talons dug into the bark, clawing away at the trees barrier for purchase. His thrusts are a driving force to reckon with. The ridges along his cock adding to the friction that winds you up. Pleasure growing at a rate you couldn’t fight, couldn’t stop if you wanted it.

His thick waist started to stutter, pace growing wary. The claws tearing into your flesh, drawing blood were pulled out. The pain in their wake was brushed off.

Between your trembling legs, your cock was painfully hard, weeping from the tip. As desperately as you wanted to reach underneath and touch yourself, Uihoy beat you to the punch.

A firm grip wrapped around your shaft. The pressure sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head, hips faltering on either to drive back or forward. Drool hung from your jaw. You were an utter mess of pre-cum, drool, and blood.

The grasp slipped down to your growing knot and squeezed. A vice grip. Stars exploded in your vision. You shattered like glass. Your cocked twitching wildly at each new pump of sperm staining the tree. His hand never relenting the pressure even as the overstimulation began to hurt.

He switched his other arm to wrap firmly around your torso and kept you flush to him. Snarls, growls, bellows poured from the male’s throat before he keened a high pitch. His hips slapped to yours. A pleasurable pain sprouted to life as you felt his knot inflate inside of you. The feeling completely foreign to you. You grunted and squirmed.

Uihoy snarled at you in warning. In reaction, you growled back at him.

Sharp teeth punctured the muscle that corded your shoulder. You choked on a gasped and went ridged underneath him. He had made his point and untangled his fangs from you. The Yautja leaned up, all he could do while tied to you.

“Look at that. You were able to take my knot,” he snarked down at you. You huffed. The energy once in your body was depleted for the moment. Yet, you could already feel your core filling the same need as before.

He was the Grendel King afterall- Even his status wouldn't exactly exempt him from the leers of his Clan members.

Oomans were too soft and weak to handle a Yautja pregnancy let alone from him, a potential weakness it could be seen- or worse he could just lose you..

All the females hed had younglings with they were always large and he was at least semi confident in their abilities, But even with them he'd experienced loss young..

So when you were discovered pregnant it had been a surprise for all parties and the clan as a whole.

You became excited after the surprise and the Warlord had decided silence would serve him better then if he voiced his actual feelings.

Sure the fluttering feeling of occassional happiness at you carrying his young was almost constantly interrupted by your suffering. You'd been painfully ill for this now way too short pregnancy.

Paired with the medics saying you were carrying a boy despite your strong protest of it being a girl. You'd been overall stubborn and far too cheerful for someone who looked like they were actively dying in slow motion before his eyes.

He feared he may have doomed you to a painful death from his own body and selfish nature to have you under him. Along with his softness for you in not telling the medics to take the child from your womb earlier on to preserve your life even if it meant losing the youngling.

Having been close a few weeks back to give that order- However it seemed fate had decided to mock him sending you into labor nearly 5 weeks earlier then anticipated.

'Not even born yet he both mocks me and almost kills his mother-'

He closed his eyes when he heard your scream through the Infirmary door.

They should have pumped your little ass with drugs.. but they wouldn't know the side effects so you refused.

Looking up to the ceiling he heard the sound of the Infirmary door finally open. The medic waving him inside-

'Both have lived'

Relief washed over him, However

A part of him was still annoyed..

His irritation he knew was irrational towards his own spawn but it couldn't be helped.

Walking into the room his arms crossed over his broad chest. Hesitant for a moment that he would walk into your crippled form there, fighting for life and writhing in agony.

But he actually paused.

He was used to the females that birthed his children to be all snarls from pain and almost aggressive protecting the youngling as if he would snatch them from them. He and all others were aware it was instinctual and a sign of a good mother for Yautja.

But instead he was met with a tender look on your face, one he grew to adore that seemed to be a unique quality to humans. That deep swirl of emotions that were foreign to him and love you all held in your gaze.

There laid on on your chest, screaming out into the air was the smallest little yautja hed ever seen. Making sure their presence was known to all around despite how small, Grendel thinking of how this was the loudest of his children.

You looking to him softly and gesturing with your head to come closer. Inviting him into your space.

"I told you she'd be a girl"

The warlord surprised that apparently his peoples advanced technology was nothing compared to a females intuition. But in truth his eyes were fixed on her in total confusion and concentration.

This little thing had caused all your suffering?

Had you vomiting out anything that touched your lips, making it so you were unable to sleep- All that trouble for this?

'She is.. small'

"Yes she's small, since she's so early"

He waved off the people in the room, wanting to have a moment of privacy with the three of you. Walking over to you now he seated next to were you laid.

He was silent as he just stared at the loud little being on your chest. Dressed simply in a the normal attire of wrapped clothes, all newborns wore. If not hers begins 3 sizes too big- paired with the adhesive monitors on her body to closely examine her health.

You watched the way he was turning his head to the side and then the other to scope out the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?"

You smiled widely as you saw the way his eyes flickered down to his own hands before going back on the screaming little girl on your chest.

His large almost 10ft frame, massive hands that could wrap around the head of a grown adult with ease. Vs a ooman sized newborn baby that was laid on your chest.

Yeah he didn't like that math at all.

'I can not-'

"Yes you can"

'I will not'

"Yes you will"

He growled at you lowly and you met him eyes. However he deflates with a huffed growl.

You giggle softly, shifting slightly to sit up more.

Grendel didn't know what to do- he actually didn't know what to do. Looking at you then glancing around the room as if someone had an answer and realizing he'd sent everyone away.

In a moment of internal panic he gently cupped his hands together like he was a begger and you laid your daughter in his waiting hands. He really really wanted to order you to take her back the moment he felt her weight in his hands, or the lack of one in his eyes-

Feeling in the middle of her being too weak and fragile to be laid in his hands or coming off as weak and fragile to not hold his own child.

His pride won on that debate so he continued to hold her. Just gazing at her now softly crying form now developing into fussing-

Growing a bit stressed at how she was easily fitting with plenty of room in his palms.

If he moved her he was confident she could fit in one hand if her head was at the base of were his claws connected to her fingers and her feet on his wrist.

For him it was odd

It had been a painfully long time since he'd felt.. awkward?

Possibly when he was a young blood- if not in training..

'She feels light'

He grumbled, Not taking his eyes off of the fussing little thing in his hands. You smiling softly.

"Well, she's a little early.. will need to pack in some meals going forward"

'Mm..'

He brought his hands closer to himself and higher, shifting to get a bit more comfortable in his seated position.

Just taking her in now more closely.

She was more pink? Sure she had a healthy mix of his coloration and the start of yours, But she was also covered in this light hue of pink? Even her tendril locs were just slightly lighter looking like a deep purple from the pink hue.

Already figuring she would most likely darken as she became less.. Squishy?

Her scent was also off to him- Used to the earthy musky smell of Yautja even at birth. But instead he was met with soft sweetness, powdery and light. He remembered you'd said a few weeks back how there is a 'newborn smell'.

Now he understood-

Too soft

He wanted to sneer at the little thing in his hands- the start of wanting to say that the only reason she is breathing still is due to his affection to you.

The thought was quickly lost when she shifted and yawned- her arms and legs stretching out as if claiming the surface of his hands all for herself making a loud noise as if demanding the thought to leave his head.

Her face scrunched up in a scowl like his own as her nubby little mandibles looked like she was ready to hiss at him.

Attitude this early it seemed.

A deep rumbling purr leaving him, but immediately stopped. He'd learned with all his other younglings when newborns they would get scared since it sounded too close to a growl.

He expected her to begin to cry once more but-

She didnt..

Instead she settled down, snuggling into his hands more as she curled up a bit and facing closer to his chest as if seeking out the source of the warmth and purrs with what he caught as the smallest lightest gurled start of a little purr in return. Having to bring his head closer to her to pick it up even but it was there..

'...'

Slowly very slowly he curling his fingers over her little body slightly, making sure his claws didn't get close as he carefully covered her as if he was shielding her from the outside world and everyone's view of her.

His warmth soothing her to sleep and seemingly feeling safe with his far too deep purs that usually rendered his newborn younglings screaming to return to their mothers.

'Zyrethi. Her name will be Zyrethi'

He said- absolute it seemed.

Mentally you thought over were you'd heard of that, If you remembered correctly it was the ultra value diamond like material that powered everything and was the main reason space travel was even possible.

Precious stone? Or To shine?

Something within those realms..

You smile a bit to yourself, closing your eyes as you knew immediately he was in love.

His hunched form over your little girl as if he was bowing down to her unknowingly and holding her close as if she was the most precious thing he'd ever held.

He was a bit disappointed by this days events- He had been one he expected to last the longest in truth.

However now he was curious who would actually remain..

'Father'

Glancing over he looks one of his older sons Dlek walking over calmly. Glancing down at the arena as well, The Recently Blooded having just returned from his first hunt and now seemingly just taking time to watch the events unfold-

The Warlord had many children.. 15 to be exact, it was a right he has as he had in his position. Creating more hunters like himself-

So yes while it was fun to have fun with having many females he could enjoy his time with.

His true interest was he actually enjoyed the rather large brood of children he had- He cared deeply for them all as they were his favorite part of his accomplishments. Especially with well being so talented. It was a true ego boost.

But

He would never speak it.. Out of the 15- he did have a favorite..

The youngest that be had born from a ooman no less.

You. Which many would also argue and you are also his favorite.

Sure he would scoff and say you were merely a pet, a concubine of his by chance. But this was in all truth complete horse shit.

He cherished you.. He spoiled you. It was simply fortunate no one minded since they got spoiled also just in their own way.

Grendel nodded for his older child to speak as he messed with the tail of his cape again now lazily watching the fight.

'Pebble ran off- Again'

He growled low in his voice and sighed subbing his face Dlek doing the same as his father in equal frustration. The older male glancing to the ship behind him seeing you and a few of the other kids looking around to find the missing youngling.

Zyrethi

Or has she is affectionately known as-

Pebble.

The said favorite- Her human blood having made her small for yautja but while most would assume it showed weakness. It had become her strength. With only being 5 years old she had learned to be stealthy, quick and hard to spot. A wonderful feat as a future hunter but a annoyance to her Father and family.

'Of course she has..'

He rolled up from his large seat, as he waved to Dlek to stay there in his place as he went to find his daughter before she got into something she wasn't suppose to.

Again.

There was a certain point were he was the only one able to find his little Pebble. Despite the bright blue beading they had sown into the back of all of her damn clothes and even brightly colored brackets with bells on them in all her locs to hopefully spot her before she got into shit. They failed.

Those added bits of security had just made her more clever with it.

It didn't take long to track her, despite it being tedious. Following the light trail to the back of the arena were the frozen warriors lay.

Different guards were around now confused why he was there, but he didn't expect any of them to know she was there.

His eyes sweeping the area spotting the flash of blue amongst the stark gray metal, her little self slipping into one of the fast moving elevators before it shot straight down.

He mentally sighed. She was going to the Armory of all places.

Easily following her down on his own Elevator now growing more and more impressed at her- seeing her dashing through the rows of far too advance weapons and armor seemingly searching for something specific.

Which she found and it almost made him laugh.

Creeping up behind her as he watched her reached out to an axe almost 4 times her size and weight incredibly similar to his own. He was grateful that the blade was down to the ground instead of hung up like it should be.. Especially as she stood so close

Pebble purring a little to herself she grabbed at the shoulder of the axe blade and pulled it towards her. Grendel feeling his heart almost fall from his ass.

'Pebble-!'

She jumped in surprise as Grendel reached over quickly grabbing the handle stopping the Axe from most likely injuring her.

Wide eyed now she went to bolt but he was fast picking her up by the back of the hide garments which made her little arms flail out the air prison. He held her up so they were eye to eye, meeting those pretty eyed she had inherited from you as he yelled in worried anger.

'That was Stupid!.. Why are you even here'

'..So I can get stuff so I can to go on a hunt with you'

He scoffed at this the anger disappearing as fast as it had been there by her meek voice, Glancing to the axe she couldn't lift and would have easily crushed her as he set it in its rightful place.

'No-'

He responded almost boredly as he set her on his shoulder beginning to walk out, growling annoyed under his breath. She knew the routine at this point as she couldn't jump down with him just catching her- So she enjoyed the ride seated on her father shoulder.

'Why not? My older siblings get to go'

'Because they are older-'

'But I am better then them I know it'

She mumbled, Messing with one of the metal brackets on the tendril loc. It had been one she had seen you put on for him.

'You are bold Pebble, but you are still too young. Besides-'

He glanced up at her as she messed with the loc.

'You must grow more. I've taken shits bigger then you'

Her little mandibles scrunched up in disgust at the comparison letting out that dark growl like chuckle.

'What can I do so I can go with you?'

'Get bigger- and stop running off'

'...Is there anything else?'

He shook his head, Walking back outside to the blazing sun as the two of them made there way back to his seat.

Pebble looked down at the fight still happening in the arena which made her eyes sparkle.

'What if I beat you in a fight?'

The Warlord actually paused at that- Non of his children had ever dared to challenge him. Now his smallest and youngest had.

Always something new with her...

'Oh?- You want to challenge me?'

'Mhm!'

Taking a seat again he looked to Dlek who stared at his sister mildly annoyed she had ran off again. Earning a flicking to her elongated forehead by the male and a whine from the little girl.

Grendel waving off his son for the action.

'Dlek did you hear? Your sister wishes to challenge me in a fight'

Dlek cocked his head to the side staring at the youngling before just turning and walking off silently. Clearly not even bothering to humor the either of them with this.

'Well then little one, Try'

He mused, Before feeling her start to pull on him in her little 'Battle' her tiny hands trying to yank on his top corner mandible however a fast flex of them rendered that useless. Aiming now for her to try and attack his locs and head.

Her little teeth while sharp didn't really do too a single thing for damn near fully calloused man.

'Tell me when you start this fight Pebble'

He teased. This earning a small growl from the girl as she tried harder this time. Unknowingly giving her father exactly what he wanted- Her tiring herself out.

No one really paid any mind to this as the Warlord was seated back, Messing with the tail of his cloak as his youngling was trying to bite and beat him up with tiny teeth and little fist.

You chuckle a bit to yourself as you watched for a moment before turning to head back into the ship shaking your head softly.