#i KNOW I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER

[licorishh]

i love og soap too much. my stomach hurts. i don't feel good.

[stergeon]

Premise: Seventy years after the events of Silver Snow, Byleth and Claude reunite on a farm in Almyra.

Rating: Teen and Up (old man angst; language; Tense Situations)

Chapters: 4 of 7 (6 with an epilogue)

Words: 16k (53k cumulative)

Chapter Summary: In the wake of an assassination attempt on his son, the King of Almyra, Khalid does his best to keep up morale and maintain an air of normalcy. But between fears of a potential attack on the farm and the unrelenting rains that threaten to cause disaster for the nearby village, he's got his work cut out for him.

That's not to mention all of the strange happenings surrounding the professor recently. It makes sense that people would start asking questions when memories conflict with reality, or when age-old afflictions suddenly abate. Although they aren't demanding them yet, they'll want answers soon, but how can Khalid tell them the truth when he doesn't know it himself?

The professor is changing, too, and as much as Khalid hates to admit it, he's growing afraid of who she's becoming—or whatever it is she's been this whole time.

[another-clive-blog]

I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

[verfound]

MINIFIC: Oct. 23: Day 24: You as a Ghost (MLB, Lukanette, DLM AU)

So.  The past week has been…not so great, and not a lot of writing was getting done.  We lost my dog, and I’ve been handling it about as well as can be expected.  I was also struggling with how to make this prompt work, so that didn’t help.  This was a cracky idea that isn’t technically part of the AU?  Canon Lukanette meeting DLM AU Lukanette.

For @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers October Minific Challenge 2023.

Read on Ao3

To Feel Alive Again: Ch24: You as a Ghost

“Ladybug, watch out!”

She barely heard him over the akuma’s screech, but that hardly seemed to matter.  She had just started to turn when Viperion was crashing into her, wrapping his arms around her protectively as he tried to shield her from the akuma’s attack.  She’d have to have words with him about that later.  She had thought he’d gotten over that ridiculous habit years ago, but what with their current…situation…well.  She couldn’t entirely blame him for getting a little more overprotective than usual.

Still.

She’d been doing this long enough – longer than him!  He didn’t have to baby her.

He grunted as the akuma hit them, and she barely had a chance to open her mouth to ask if he was all right when light exploded around them.  There was a great force – a great suction – and then she was being ripped from his arms.

“Lu-!” she started to scream, even as he shouted “Marine-!”

The roaring wind carried the names away as if they’d never been spoken.

She felt his arms slip down hers until just their fingertips were locked tight.

And then he let go.

Ladybug’s vision went black as the wind roared past her ears, but that could have been because she had closed her eyes.  Her stomach churned with the long-familiar feeling of a freefall, until moments later gravity reasserted itself and she was plummeting down, down, until she landed with a thud and a groan in something…smelly.

Soft, or…soft-ish, but…smelly.

She pushed herself up with another groan and looked around, wincing as she rubbed at her back.  She had landed in a pile of bin bags scattered next to a dumpster.  She frowned, glancing a bit more around the alley she was now in.  It seemed fairly standard, as alleys went, but…something felt wrong.  She pushed herself up from the garbage and reached behind her to dust herself off, but she paused when her hands touched her butt.

They were bare.

The gloves that normally covered her hands while transformed were missing.  And her butt was much softer than the magical, protective fabric of her suit.  She looked down, dread pooling in her stomach, and sucked in a breath.  She wasn’t wearing her suit: she was wearing the fuzzy pink swing coat she had picked up a few weeks ago, when it had first started getting colder and she had realized she would soon be showing too much for her old coat to fit.  A shaking hand reached up to touch her ears, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not to feel the familiar studs still there.

She could still feel their magic – still feel Tikki – pulsing within, but she felt…distant.  Out of reach.

“T…Tikki?” she called, her voice cracking on the name.  There was no answer.  She looked around, a second name dying on her lips as she realized something else.

Luka was missing.

She was alone.

Her hand dropped to her stomach as panic started to creep up her spine.  It…it was fine.  This was fine.  He was…he was fine.  He had to be nearby, right?  They had been in the same blast.  He had to have landed nearby, right?  It was fine.  It was…

“Fuuuuck,” she heard him groan a short distance away, and she looked up with a start to see him hopping away from the wall a short distance from the entrance of the alley, shaking his foot.  He wasn’t transformed, either, and…what was he wearing???  She had never seen that coat before, and she knew all of his coats.  She had made them, after all.

And as much as she tried to honor his own personal style, she had always made sure he looked presentable.  Not…like he’d just crawled out of the discard pile of a second-hand shop.

“Luka!” she called, and he looked up at her voice.  She was already running towards him, and before he could answer she had crashed into him.  She tucked her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing him tight.  She took a deep breath to calm herself and paused, her nose wrinkling as a strange smell hit her.  Why did he smell…weird?  Almost sour?  Not…not like Luka.

It was also strong enough to trigger her already-sensitive stomach.

“…move!” she barely managed to get out before she shoved him away and spun, bracing a hand on the wall as she threw up the meager breakfast she’d picked at that morning.  The sour smell lingered even after her stomach was empty, and she stood there for a moment retching.  She felt a nervous hand on her shoulder, and she reached back to swat at him.  “St…stay back.  God, you stink.”

“…it’s an alley, Marinette,” he said, sounding a little offended.  “We’re surrounded by trash.  I’m pretty sure I just stepped in piss.  What did you expect when you…why are you down here, anyway?”

“Very funny,” she groaned as she pushed away from the wall.  She wiped at her mouth and tipped her head back, swallowing against the bitter taste in her mouth and wishing for a water bottle.  She put her hands on her stomach and tried to take a few steady, calming breaths.  Tikki was missing, they were God-knew-where, and their little one was currently trying to shove her stomach through her throat.  Now was not the time to panic.  “I know what the doctor said, and I know how much we both hate lying, but right now I need you to lie to me and say this is going to pass soon.  Can you do that for me, Luka?”

“That what is going to…what the fuck is that?” his voice had jumped an entire octave on the end of that question, and Marinette tipped her head down to look at him with a furrowed brow,.  He was staring with wide, panicked eyes at her stomach – more specifically, at the slight bump the sleep shirt she was still wearing under her coat did nothing to hide.  Which, honestly.  Rude.  She had been self-conscious about the bump, sure, but he’d been ecstatic when her slight frame had started showing early.

“You’ve never been more beautiful, darning,” he’d said as he’d dropped to his knees before her, peppering little kisses along her stomach.  “Hello, little one.  You just can’t wait to meet us, can you?”

…Luka had been ecstatic about this baby from day one – even before she had been, back when she was still panicking about missing Miraculous and akuma fights and how can we have a baby now, Lu?  Where the hell did he get off freaking out about her bump now?

“What the fuck is what, Luka?” she asked, frowning.  She groaned as her stomach twisted again, and she rubbed a soothing hand over her belly as she made soothing, shushing sounds.  “It’s ok, sweetie.  Maman’s queasy, too.  Luka, why are you looking at me like that?  It’s not like this is anything new.”

“The hell it isn’t!  You weren’t pregnant an hour ago, Marinette!  You were…how the fuck did this even happen?” he asked, and her eyes popped open as he gestured at her middle.  “You shouldn’t be able to…you can’t…”

“…that’s not funny, Luka,” she said, stepping closer.  She reached out and brushed his bangs back, her thumb rubbing between his eyebrows in a soothing gesture.  He swallowed thickly, and the eyes that flicked up to her were definitely mid-panic spiral.  She reached out for his hand and placed it on her stomach, smiling encouragingly at him.  “You know who this is.  You helped make them.”

“No, I don’t think he did,” another voice came from behind them.  She turned, her brow furrowing, and her eyes widened as she saw Luka walking towards them.  Dressed as she had seen him when he’d left their flat that morning, in his black jacket and with the pink scarf he’d stolen from her a few winters ago sticking out.  The one he liked wearing because it smelled like her.  She glanced back at the…other Luka?  The one beside her, who, now that she got a better look at him…definitely didn’t…well.  He looked like Luka.  He was Luka.  But he looked…

Well.

Like Jagged, she supposed, without the money for Botox or cosmetic surgery.

“Who…what…” he was stammering, his eyes wide and locked on her Luka.  She stepped back, quickly going to Luka’s arms when he held a hand out for her.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, bringing a hand up to rub his thumb along the apple of her cheek.  He glanced down at her stomach, the nerves clear on his face.  “Are you both all right?”

“We’re fine,” she said, reaching up to hold his hand to her cheek.  He leaned in for a kiss, and she scrunched her face as she leaned back.  “Mm, no.  The smell here was enough to get me sick again.  No kisses until I can wash my mouth out.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said, pecking his lips against hers.  She kept her lips pursed, and he hummed as he rubbed her cheek again.  “This is why I didn’t want you in the field anymore.  You took ten years off my life when you let go, darning.”

“Excuse me?  You let go,” she pouted, and he chuckled as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Never,” he murmured.  “I don’t break my vows, Marinette.  I never let go of you.”

“…fine,” she huffed, flicking his chest.  “We both lost our grip.”

“Fair,” he sighed.  “I don’t like this.  I think we’re in Paris, but it all feels…wrong.  I can’t find Sass.  I can feel him – I still have my bangle – but –”

“Same with Tikki,” she said.  “Parallel world?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he sighed, glancing around her to eye the other him.  “At least I’m not a preppy ass in this one.”

“Hey,” she giggled, “he wasn’t that bad.”

“Sweater vests, Mari,” he said, shivering at the memory.  “And loafers.”

“…can one of you please tell me what the fuck is going on here?” the other him called, an uneasy edge to his voice.  “Like why the fuck are there two of me, and how did a reaper get knocked up?”

“A what?” she asked, the same time Luka said, “The usual way, with many failed attempts and many celebratory tries at repeating the process.”  She slapped his chest, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Luka!”

“What?” he asked.  “You know you enjoyed it.”

She could feel the heat crawling up her neck.  He wasn’t wrong, but Other Him was essentially a stranger and didn’t…wait.

He had known her.

Which meant he had a Marinette.

…why was any of this a surprise to him?  Weren’t they busy working on their own...failed attempts?

“Luka…” she started, and when her Luka hummed she batted his arm.  “Not you.  The other you.  Him.”

She gestured to the man standing a few paces away, who had shifted from...dumbfounded curiosity to a more defensive stance.  He had taken a step back, holding himself away from her.  Like he was about to run if she didn’t say something he liked.  She frowned and took a step closer, holding her hands up in a placating manner.  Like she was trying to calm a caged animal.

“Easy,” she said softly, her eyes staying focused on his.  They looked so…old.  Her Luka got that look sometimes, the one of too many Second Chances and timelines best left forgotten, but never to that extent.  What had this Luka seen?  What had he done?  “Luka, you…do you have a Miraculous?”

“…a what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.  She reached up to touch her earrings, and he frowned.  He reached up and flicked his earlobe, gesturing to the black stud that looked so similar to her own Luka’s.  “Not much of a surprise.  You’ve seen them before.”

“No, Luka, not…your bangle,” she said.  His frown deepened.

“I haven’t worn bracelets in a long time,” he said.  “Not since I died.  You…wouldn’t know that.  You’ve never seen me in bracelets.  Why are you asking about bracelets?”

“Mari,” her Luka said, reaching out to touch her shoulder.  “I don’t…I don’t think they have kwamis here.  I think that’s why Sass and Tikki are…I think they’re confined to our Miraculous until we figure out a way home.”

“That would make sense,” she murmured, half-listening to him.  Something about what the other him had said…  “What…what do you mean, since you died?”

His shoulders slumped a little, his expression softening.

“…Marinette,” he said, taking a hesitant step towards her.  “Come on.  Isn’t it a bit late in the game for this denial shit?”

“She’s not your Marinette,” her Luka said, his grip tightening on her shoulder.  “We’re not…from here, Luka.  We were attacked by…something that could create rifts between worlds.”

“…you’re not dead?” the other Luka asked, his eyes widening.  His eyes dropped to her belly.  She had only just started showing a few weeks ago, and she hadn’t gotten anything bigger yet.  Her shirt was tighter than she normally wore, but when the akuma alert had sounded…she had rushed out, barely thinking to toss her new coat over the comfy pajamas she’d been lounging in most of the day.  The other Luka’s eyes were burning, something akin to fear – to hope – shining in them.  “You…you’re together?  And having a baby?  You’re not dead?”

“…n-no.  I mean…yes, we’re married.  We’re expecting.  But…no, we’re not…dead,” she said, the word feeling heavy – wrong – on her tongue after so many years and too many akumas.  She swallowed, reaching up to hold onto Luka’s hand on her shoulder.  She held on tightly, just as she always had.  “Are…are you?”

[galmiahthepigeon]

Okay guys I saw the thumbnail and there is no "Season Finale" or "Part One" anywhere in the title do I need to start killing?

[coquelicoq]

i think of all the books i've ever read, le père goriot takes the prize for taking the longest to get interesting, as it doesn't happen until the very last sentence. i'm just bopping along for over 400 pages of whatever and then he slaps me in the face with the last sentence and immediately peaces out. okay you got my attention, just in time to throw it away. respect.

[proveagain]

i am Constantly thinking about the end of season 4... about the fact that by the end of the second all-valley, the main 3 miyagi-fangs (miguel, sam, eli) showing the proof that the merger worked despite daniel and johnny fighting it the entire time. but while sam and eli showed it mainly in the sense of mixing their own fighting styles... miguel having a couple extra scenes in 4x10 hear me out... walking back out from the medic room to the mat. everyone starts losing their shit because they think miguel's gonna fight again. but he walks Right Over to the sidelines, and slots in with the other miyagi-fangs that have already started merging from their separate sides to a sea of red and white. the ref looks at him and he just shakes his head, smiling over at eli and giving him their lil bestie handshake.

miguel choosing to let eli take over because that's what the merger was supposed to be. it wasn't letting one side win over the other, it wasn't swallowing the lesser dojo into the stronger one. it was two separate, smaller dojos, coming Together to take down the stronger one. where he very well would have fought past the pain in s3 and most of s4 (and probs ending up in a situation similar or worse than 2x10) .. him Trusting in eli and in miyagi-do... being part of the proof that the merger worked even though the adults spent the whole time rehashing the same decades-old drama for the fourth time in a year thank you for coming to my ted talk

[zukkaoru]

as much as it emotionally destroyed me, i do have to say those last two pages of bsd 109 are like. the perfect cliffhanger. and i'm kind of super glad bsd releases monthly rather than weekly so it can actually hold the weight it was given

[abstractgart]

"knockout!", Thursday, ‎14 ‎July ‎2022, ‏‎11:29PM

now you might look at this and think "this is just a bunch of shapes made using the Ms Paint shapes tool!" and you would be correct. that is what this is. however i dunno i still like it, i mean sure it's just shapes in black and white but there's something about it. like wow. those Sure Are shapes Huh. it's titled knockout! because it reminded me of the way cartoon characters see stars flying around their heads when they get dizzy, except if that cartoon character had just been put in the femur breaker or something. also had the cuphead voice clip stuck in my head i think.

[nostalgia-tblr]

Today I wrote about 900 words \o/ But only 100 of those were in the thing I wanted to add words to :( And most of them are in the wrong chapter. :( :(

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part I

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: this shit has zero smut, angst angst angst, did i say angst?, this is so dramatic i'm sorry, expletives, a bit of fluff, pregnancy, cliff hanger, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 8k 

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: You are now entering angst town, please buckle your seatbelts and try to enjoy the ride. Jokes aside, GUYS. This chapter…is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written. I’m excited and nervous, and everything in between. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I just hope to Eywa that I’ve written it in a way that flows and is easy to follow. I’ve had this idea brewing for months, it feels. Now…this shit was over 20,000 words long. That is a personal record and I will not be subjecting you guys to such a monstrosity. Therefore, this is part one of (at the moment) three. I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger, hehe. Also, welcome to my brain, because idk how I came up with this shit. 

Synopsis: You didn’t foresee this, Ralak kept you in the dark for the sake of you and your baby’s safety. But now the time has come, it’s all too overwhelming for you to process. 

<- Previous-> Next

Ralak never shared more than he needed to when it came to his duties with Tonowari. No matter how much you vowed to keep it confidential. He’s a man of few words, but when it came to his business he kept them fewer.

As much as you knew, his trips inland consisted of hunting and gathering bigger game that most warriors struggled to handle.

There's a few times you can count on one hand that he's come home a little more worn down. Each time you cursed Tonowari under your breath as you helped your mate unwind. You’d insist on knowing what the olo’eyktan had him doing to be so spent and why he had not entirely fulfilled his promise to lighten Ralak of his duties since the mating.

Ralak would be quick to shut you down in the most gentle way despite feeling irritable and sombre. It was always something along the lines of, ‘it keeps you safe, and that is my duty’, and that he’ll ‘discuss it when the time comes’.

It seems the time has come. 

Another gloomy night, rain and thunder tear through the sky. These storms are more frequent in this season, as it’s Ewyas way of keeping the balance with the freshwater and seawater ratio for the mangroves.

But tonight it’s torrential. You’re in full bloom, ready to step into your new chapter of motherhood at any moment. The babe sits low in your womb and you’re swollen from what feels like head to toe. The rain isn’t helping with the soreness in your joints. 

Ralak is seated next to the crackling firepit, stirring the bubbling stew with one hand and mindlessly rubbing your swollen ankles with the other. Meanwhile you lay snuggled in bed, wrapped comfortably in the thick shawl as you listen to the pitter-patter. It’s peaceful, despite the dull ache in your lower back. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad, after all. 

Ta-toom!

The low-pitched sound of the war horn has Ralak's full attention, shredding him of whatever serenity he had in his being. Moving hastily, he stands and darts over to the marui door, slipping into his gear and fixing his largest spear on his back.

The scene unfolding before your eyes is a rare one. You’d only seen him in full gear on the day you first laid eyes on him. The day you arrived here in Awa’atlu. And it brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

“Ralak… what was that?” You ask nervously.

You watch him aggressively tighten the strap of his tstalsena [knife sheathe; carrier] and chuck a bucket of water in the fire—killing the flame. A precautionary measure. He knows the time has come. He hears your voice but he also hears Tonowari's...

'When the horn sounds… you come. And that…is an order.'

In his head, he’s going through an array of possible responses but there’s simply no time for any of them. Using the frame of the bed to pull yourself up, you slowly come to your feet and waddle towards him.

“Ralak. What is going on?” You ask a little louder, a hand gripping his wrist. 

Turning to face you, his hands fly to support your stomach as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Then he kisses you with purpose. Pressing his lips into yours like it would be the last time, forcing himself to pull away to briefly glance down at his unborn.

It catches you by surprise, leaving you looking up at him open mouthed. Now you’re really scared. It feels like he’s being plucked away from your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Ralak—”

“I will explain when I am back. All of it.” He already sounds out of breath, fixing the shawl over your shoulders. “You stay here. Stay warm. Do not leave. Do not answer to anyone. Understand?” 

Your forehead wrinkles as you try to process this all. 

Don’t answer to anyone? To whom? Why did he put out the fire? Why is he in full gear? What the fuck is going on right now? He said he’d be back…right?

“Y/n.” He booms your name, yet his tone remains steady and calm. “Understand?”

You nod hurriedly, “Yes. Yes.” 

“I will be back soon.” He fixes your shawl a last time before stepping back and bolting through the door.

You follow behind him, keeping the marui flap open to watch him click for his skimwing. He makes the bond and mounts the beast hastily, and is airborne soaring towards the mainland at full tilt. 

Befuddled, you waddle back inside, your back slamming into the marui stilt as you huff and puff to catch your breath. You nervously check the stew, and see that it’s almost done. The glowing charcoal should be enough to finish it off, so you opt to leave it covered and fidget with the prrsmung [baby carrier] you've weaving for the past couple days. 

Anything to keep you busy. 

——

Ralak effortlessly dismounts his tsurak, letting it glide past him in the water as he climbs up to the communal pod. This is a gathering place for important meetings and announcements to the clan. He watches as others assemble under the larger, woven marui, drenched with the water of the sea and sky. It’s clear that this was a signal for the warriors of the clan, from the elite, to the former. The young and the old. 

Even Zu’té is present, standing lone far off in the corner.

War horn in hand, the olo’eyktan makes his presence known as he stands on the highest part of the pod. His mate, the tsahìk, stands next to him with her chest high and their children next to her.

Jake and Neytiri, along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, group together behind them at the back of the pod, observing the unfolding scene. The warriors begin to chant, defensively positioned with their tongues on display. They’re all armed and ready to protect their own from whatever the impending threat is. Ralak takes his place next to Tonowari, standing tall and still. He observes the uproar before him, his mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face. 

“Mawey. Mawey. [Calm. Calm.]” Ronal speaks loudly over the heavy rain, hands splayed out in front of her. 

But it makes no difference. 

The uproar is growing even louder than the downpour. It was rare to hear this particular horn. It’s been years, ten, to be exact. And those who know exactly what it means are up in arms. Ralak knew this day would soon come, but he was hoping to Eywa that it would be after the birth of his son. Tonowari lets loose a throaty ‘gwah’, driving the butt of his spear into the ground. The crowd hushes down into a dead silence, acknowledging their leader.

“Warriors of Awa’atlu. I summon you for good reason. Ten years have passed and it is time to meet with the ash people once more.” Tonowari begins, only for the younger warriors to mumble among themselves, some of who are unaware of who the ash people are. 

“Tìfnu! [silence!]” Ralak snaps through his teeth, “…the olo’eyktan speaks.” Tonowari nods to Ralak. 

“The treaty has ended. We meet with them far inland to discuss the terms of a new treaty.” Tonowari’s eyes bounce among the sea of na’vi. “It will be no easy or short journey. We must make the trek by foot. Tonight.” 

A few male na’vi are unable to keep their excitement to a minimum and siren a few calls, smacking their strakes together. Neytiri snakes her arm around Jake's upper bicep, tucked under his wing. Neteyam and Lo’ak listen intently, their heads tilted down as they grip their bows firmly. 

“Not all will come. I have chosen a few to be at my side.” Tonowari glances at Ralak, and then the Sullys before continuing, “The rest must stay and protect the clan if needed.” 

Ronal interjects, speaking of the ash na’vi and their horrid way of living—from their occasionally cannibalistic diet to their view of Eywa and the balance. She further reminds the people of the treaty, and that its tenets include immunity from their ‘hunting practices’ in exchange for a resource only attainable on the reef. The treaty is valid for a decade and then the terms are subject to negotiation based on the two tribe’s needs. She commences it by announcing the names of those who have been chosen by Tonowari.

“I need you by my side, Ralak.”

It was a direct order, and Ralak knows that. He knows that no matter what he says, the olo’eyktan’s order must be obeyed. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

“She is due any day now. You know that.” Ralak speaks crystal clear, stating exactly what his concerns are.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone, especially so heavy and full with his firstborn, who will come at any moment. Every bone in his body is telling him it’s the wrong move. But Tonowari glances at his own wife who is swollen with his fourth child.

“I know. I know, Tak. But we must do what we need. For the people.” 

Ralak holds a stare with his superior—his father figure. He’s gritting his teeth to keep himself together, to keep his composure. To keep his thoughts just as his thoughts. The two communicate through facial expressions, and a quick tilt to Tonowari’s head has Ralak looking away in frustration. 

It’s final. 

“No.” Jake butts in, sharp and quick with his disapproval. “He gave me his word.” 

Alas, a moment where father and son in law are in favour of the same thing. 

“You have the sky people and we have the ash people. They demand his (Ralak’s) presence. If we fail in this, we will be at war. He comes with us.” Tonowari is stern with his tone, leaving no room for an argument. 

“Ma’ Jake.” Neytiri chimes in, fright evident in her voice. She is tired of the war. 

As a last resort, Ralak’s gaze shifts over to Zu’té. He knew Zu’té would also be chosen despite his...'retirement'. He was undoubtedly one of the best warriors the clan has ever had, wielding great strength and skill. Zu’té returns the stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks a brow. Their brothership had strengthened after Ralak sought help. 

Jake notices this, and shakes his head with his hands on his hips. “Nope. No. Who is that guy anyways?” 

“My brother.”  

“His brother.” 

The two taller na’vi speak at once. 

“Since when do you have a—You know what? I don’t care. Okay? You? I trust. Him? Not so much. I’d rather my boys stay with her.” Jake says sternly, glancing at Zu’té. “No offence, bud.” 

“Good thing I care not for your opinion, koaktan [old man].” 

“Zu’té.” Ralak whispers harshly, throwing a glare at his sibling. 

“Look, if you got a problem—”

“What about tuk?” Neytiri cuts her mate short, tugging at his arm to remind him of who is watching their youngest daughter. 

“Then they take turns or somethin’, I’m not havin’ one baby girl watched and not the other.” 

“Toruk makto.” Tonowari lays a heavy hand on the former olo’eyktan's shoulder, drawing him away to break the tension. “They cannot step foot on our land with the treaty. She will be safe. Trust me…” Their voices drown out from the pounding downpour. 

As they go back and forth, Ralak begins to process what Tonowari said.

‘They demand his presence’.

Tonowari had made this meeting the topic of conversation over the past few weeks, preparing him for this. But he never mentioned anything about them demanding his attendance in particular. The last meeting with the ash people happened when Ralak was a very young warrior, long before his iknimaya. 

Back then, Tonowari had a different warrior at his side—a different right hand. She was strong and well known for being patient with her students. It was a frequent story at family dinner when Tonowari and Ronal took Ralak under their wing. And as Ralak became Tonowari's right hand man, he was thrusted into enforcing the tenets of the treaty, going inland with Tonowari to uphold the clan's part.

Ralak has only caught a glimpse of them once after delivering the resource to the agreed spot. He had just started these excursions with Tonowari, and his curiosity got the best of him. He looked behind him for just a moment, and caught the sight of a curvy, grey woman hastily gathering and stuffing everything into a satchel of some sort. 

Her stripes were a deep, ashy blue, and her skin seemed almost scale-like. She was rid of any bioluminescence, as if the light within her was gone, and her hair was matted with what looked like burgundy clay. Tonowari then seized the back of Ralak’s neck and shoved him along, advising that he never looks. 

“It is decided. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Zu’té stay.” Tonowari announces as he and Jake rejoin the group, looking at those who are left—Tonowari, Neytiri and Ralak. “We leave soon, make your arrangements.” 

Ralak knew his last few words were directed to him. With that, Ralak strides towards Zu’té. “I know what I am asking of you, Zu’té—” 

“I will do this for you.” Zu’té turns to face Ralak, who’s undeniably uneasy and concerned. 

“Protect her.” 

“You protect her. Get in and get out of there, baby brother.” Zu’té speaks, extending his hand out to Ralak. Ralak nods firmly. He’s right, your safety, along with the rest of the clan’s, depends on how this all plays out. 

“Oe irayo si ngaru [I give thanks to you].” Ralak's hand meets Zu’té’s forearm with a smack. They tug back and forth a bit, silently wishing each other luck on their own endeavours before setting off on their skimwings. 

They arrive, walking with haste along the beach towards the stairs to Ralak’s marui pod in the pouring rain.

“That’s...interesting.” Zu’té makes a comment about the railings for the stairs. 

“She has a hard time without it.” Ralak responds, stopping at the bottom step, coming to the quick realisation that this man will essentially be replacing him for the next few eclipses. “She may need help using them.” 

Zu’té nods, understanding what he really means. “Do not fret, brother. I will take care of your mate.” 

Ralak releases a shaky breath as they make their way to the patio, finding shelter from the rain. 

“Wait here.” Ralak speaks with his back turned, “I must speak with her first.”  

——

A torturous hour has passed, and you’ve burned circles into your marui floor from pacing so much. He’s taking longer than you’d expected, and worry is really starting to set in now. 

What’s going on? What did that sound mean? Why did he leave in such a rush? With all his gear, too? 

You gnaw at the calloused piece of skin on your thumb, keeping a warm comforting hand on your bump to keep your kicking babe calm. Regardless, he continues doing somersaults in your womb.

Fuck it. 

You rush towards the marui door where your gear hangs, and fight with the strap of your chest piece to slip it on you. It won’t fasten and it’s simply too tight to fit your body right now, but you continue to grapple with the stupid strap with shaky hands. 

“Tanhì.” Ralak’s voice is rough and he sounds winded. “What are you doing?” He rushes over to you and quickly removes the piece off your chest. 

“Ralak—oh, thank Eywa.” Your voice is shaky, but thick with relief. “I’m sorry, I just got s-so worried.”

“We must speak. Time is going.” Ralak carefully ushers you over to the bed, and assists you in sitting down, holding your swollen belly along the way. He takes note of his active child, feeling his little kicks and pokes. He comforts his young with a few strokes to your stomach. “Shh-shh, little one. Alright.”

He knows this whole ordeal must be stressing you both, and he’s really regretting not telling you all of this sooner.

“What do you mean?” You ask, urgency thick in your voice.

Ralaks demeanour is nothing short of solemn, tensed jaw and tightened lips. It seems serious, and this man is no person to jest on such matters.

"Ralak...What is happening?"

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze fixed on his hand that still lays firmly on your stomach. He then looks up at you, concern etched into his features. “It is time to speak about… my duties with Tonowari.” 

You feel your heart thud against your ribcage, your eyes widen at the words. You’ve been eager to know, but now that he’s telling you, it implies that everything isn’t alright. It implies… the safety of your unborn is compromised. You nod slowly, trying to remain calm for the sake of your son. 

“We reef people hold a peace treaty with another clan…” the giant begins, slipping his hand from your stomach to clasp yours tightly. “…the ash people.” 

“Ash people?” Your voice is less than a whisper, tiny and croaky.

“They are a horrible people, tanhì. Truly wicked. Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted]. Much like the sky people.” He shakes his head as he mutters the words, not even wanting to go into any more detail. He didn’t want to taint your innocence. To stress your mind. Especially now that you’re heavy with his child. “The treaty keeps them off this land. It keeps you safe.” 

“Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted].” You repeat through a gasp. 

“To them, Eywa is nothing. Tsaheylu [the bond] is for control. Their diet…” Ralak catches himself, bringing his words to a halt.

“Their diet…?” Your bottom lip trembles. 

Ralak just shakes his head, taking your other hand with his. “The treaty will soon end. I must go. Tonight.”

“What?!” You shout, wrenching your hands from his grasp to quickly stand up. A shooting pain sears up the side of your stomach, and your hand flies to clutch it. Ralak rushes to steady you.

“Careful, y/n.” He snaps, high strung and tense. “I will be back in a few eclipses.” 

“What? No! No, no. It’s too dangerous.” You protest, gripping his wrists to stay standing.  

“It is the olo’eyktan’s orders. I must.” He’s quick to respond to you. 

This quietens you. Does Tonowari not know that you’re due any day? Or perhaps he doesn’t care. How could he rip your mate away from you at this time? Especially for something so…risky. You feel your fear bubble into something more hot. 

Anger. 

“Then I’m coming.” You announce, dropping your hands from his wrists to waddle over to your gear once more. Ralak stands in front of you, hands on your stomach to stop you. 

“No. You're staying here.” Ralak orders sternly, backing you up to sit back on the bed. 

“No. I’m coming. I’m safer with you.” You resist his pushes, trying to stand firm.

“You are heavy with child.” He grits his teeth, giving you another light push, “I cannot protect you there. You—agh—you are safer here.”

Ralak makes the confession, feeling like he’s failing at his duty as your mate. He shouldn’t even be leaving you, not when you're this far along. He should be by your side, tending to your every need. 

“What? By myself? What if—what if something happens? What if the baby—” You’re cut short by the sound of Zu’té’s not-so-reserved entrance. He yanks the marui flap to the side, ducking under it and standing tall behind Ralak, by just a couple inches. He, too, is fully equipped with his gear and weapons. 

“Brother. I can hear the war party.” Zu’té speaks with haste, keeping his eyes locked onto Ralak. 

'Brother?' Your eyes snap back to Ralak, beady and full of tears. “You didn’t.”

It quickly dawns on you that Ralak had planned this out. Made these arrangements in anticipation things went south and he had no say in the matter. To ensure your safety, and the safety of your unborn by going to the greatest length of rekindling a flame that had been extinct for twelve years. Ralak has spoken casually of his brother before, but never in any great detail. 

“Y/n. This is Zu’té, my brother. He will keep you safe.” Ralak speaks with shame in his voice, knowing this must be way too overwhelming for you. He hadn’t planned for it to go like this. 

Zu’té finally allows his eyes to wander over to you. They widen when they get their first proper look of you, darting all over your body to take in your foreign features.

He caught a glimpse when your family first arrived in Awa’atlu, but never this close. His eyes land on your bulging stomach, lingering a second too long to make even himself a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and looks back at Ralak.

You look at Zu’té with anger in your eyes, and then back at Ralak as they begin to swell with hot tears. Zu’té tries to make himself smaller, feeling the thickness of the air now. He backs up into the marui flap, tempted to lift it and walk himself outside to relieve some of the pressure. 

“How long did you say this would be f-for? What if I go into labour? Will you really allow another man to deliver our son?” 

Zu’té quickly but silently excuses himself from the room, taking a spot on the patio with his arms crossed over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Toto. What have you gotten yourself into?’

Angry, you shot the words like an arrow and they pierced your mate’s chest with ease. He grimaces, as if he were actually in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” You sob the apology, burying your hot face into your hands. 

Ralak embraces you, wrapping his large arms around your body, hugging you close and tight. He sways a little with you, humming deep in his chest. “‘ts alright. You’re okay. Take a breath. I know this is frightening.” 

He understands—it is not uncommon for a navi pair to remain close during the final weeks of pregnancy. It’s an unconscious mechanism, keeping them together for the birth of their offspring. Ralak feels it just as much as you but in order to truly protect you he must go— another thing that he understands. 

“You c-come back to me, o-okay?” Your breath won’t stop hitching. “Come as s-soon as y-you can.” 

“I will, I will. ” He coos, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Mawey, tanhì. Strong heart. For our baby.” 

You nod, lifting your head to look up at him. He sees the terror in your eyes and his heart breaks with guilt. He gently presses his forehead against yours, slowly stroking your back. 

“Nga yawne lu oer, nga yawne lu oer. [I love you, I love you]” He whispers longingly as he closes the distance between your mouths. 

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]. S-So much.” You sputter, lips trembling against his.

He kisses you with force, pressing his lips into yours until it almost hurts. You both linger there, not wanting to part ways. But you feel him pulling away, knowing there wasn’t much time left. Instinctively, cling onto him when his lips leave yours. 

“Please don’t go.” You mumble into his chest, knowing that he has no choice.

“I have to, my tanhì.” He mutters as he begins to pull away before letting go completely. 

You follow behind him, thumb in your mouth as you nibble at the skin, hand resting on top of your bump. You watch him call for his tsurak for a second time tonight, and look back at you for a moment. He takes in the sight of you standing next to his older brother, trying to find comfort in knowing that you’re in safe hands. Ralak gives him a nod and mounts the beast, taking off towards the war party.

Leaving you in the presence of Zu’té. 

“Y/n, is it?” Zu’té asks, already knowing the answer.

It’s awkward and he doesn’t do well in these types of situations. He knows comfort is what you need right now, considering you’re now sobbing into your hands again. You’re worried sick. Literally. It’s all making you feel woozy and lightheaded. 

“Listen...” He goes to rest a hand on your upper back, but he hesitates, leaving his hand to hover. He retracts it completely, allowing it to fall back to his side. He sighs, droopy ears and tensed brows. “He will return soon.”

Among all the emotions that cloud you at once, anger still remains roaring at the forefront. You find yourself turning your heel and ignoring his presence, waddling away as fast as your swollen feet will allow it. 

“Leave m-me be.” You spit between hitched breaths, ensuring the flap of the marui door shuts harshly behind you. 

Despite feeling sympathy for you, Zu’té stands outside, finding solace in being alone. He chooses the driest spot, and sets himself up on the patio, getting ready for the stormy night ahead. 

You waddle in to bed, wrapping yourself in the thick shawl that smells like your mate, and lay next to the prrsmung [baby carrier] you still have yet to finish. Feeling defeated and empty, you lay on your side in bed as you process everything, letting silent tears crash onto your bed.

——

You’re not entirely sure at what point in the night that you drifted to sleep, but you wake up in a groggy state. Dried tears make it hard to open your eyes, and your hair sticks to your face. You look around in a daze and realise that it’s still dark outside. 

The pang in your bladder keeps you awake and forces you out of bed, making you wobble to the curtain. You pull it back and are met with the sight of Zu’té sleeping propped up against the marui wall with his spear tucked to his chest. 

Seeing him painfully reminds you of the heart wrenching events of last night. That even though you were hoping and praying to Eywa for it all to be a bad dream—it was all very real. 

An icy cold breeze gusts by, making you shiver under your shawl and Zu’té shift in his sleep. The rain had eased off into a light, continuous drizzle some time during the night. 

Your ears droop with guilt for leaving him out here in the cold, damp night. You let out a sigh and grip the railing to the marui stairs, turning your body sideways to take your first step down. The wood squeaks when it takes your weight, Ralaks usual tell tale sign that you’re sneaking out at night without his help. 

It seems to work for Zu’té too because by the time you reach the second step you hear a raspy voice.  

“I was told you need help with these.” Zu’té offers his hand. You let out a sigh and take his arm. 

 You’ll admit, his helping hand is actually helping, especially now that you’re so far along. 

“Irayo [thank you].” You mutter, holding on tightly as you make your way to the bottom step. Zu’té leans against the railing, waiting for you to finish your business. 

You don’t take long, most trips recently have been false alarms—just the baby pushing on your bladder because he’s so low down. As you make your way back to the stairs, your lower back begins to warm up. It radiates to your upper and inner thighs, making them ache as you walk. 

It’s nothing new, aches and pains are becoming more frequent as the days pass, and the cold certainly isn’t helping. Zu’té meets you at the bottom step with an extended elbow, and you take his arm without a second thought. 

It starts to rain again, hard. The temperature easily falls by a few degrees and all you want is to be inside the warmth of your bed right now. Your feet move at a quicker pace and as much as Zu’té tries to be gentle as he can, his grip tightens. 

“Take your time.” He says, keeping you steady as you reach the top step. 

Once you get to the door, he immediately lets go of you, stepping aside to take his spot on the patio for the remainder of the night. You pull back the marui flap but find yourself hesitating to step inside. You look over your shoulder, watching Zu’té tuck his spear close to his chest and prop himself against the wall.

“Zu’té.” You say. He looks at you, brows raised as he listens. “It’s cold out here. You should come—” 

“Don’t worry about me.” He cuts you short, closing his eyes. 

“I’m not.” Your words are quick and almost defensive. 

Zu’té chuckles a bit, if you could even call it that. “Sounds like you are.” 

You sigh, getting a little irritated. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be alright out here.” He says nonchalantly, opening his eyes to look directly at you. Your heart skips a beat and you feel the blood drain from your face. You thought Ralak was intimidating, but this guy is something else. 

“Sure.” It’s awkward, but a good awkward…if that were a thing. “Night.”

“Wake me if you need me. No more sneaky shit.” He’s muttering now, ready to go back to sleep. “And get some rest.”

You hold back your laugh, a little amused by the stark difference in his personality and Ralaks. How are they brothers? Or related, even? 

“Will do, sir.” You match his sarcastic tone, entering the marui and laying down in bed, hoping to Eywa that sleep will find you soon. 

——

Village life continues despite Ralak and the others' absence. You wake up earlier than usual, despite the exhausting circumstances. Your baby moves, letting you know he’s awake too. 

“Daddy will be home soon.” You reassure your babe, gently rubbing your stomach. 

Perhaps you were also reassuring yourself. 

You feel empty, and numb. And as much as you want to lay in bed all day and wait for your mates return, you still have a few things left to do before your son’s arrival. 

First thing being, getting some food in your system. 

You get ready, and walk outside, noticing that Zu’té is no longer in his spot. 

He wakes early. 

Looking out into the distance, you catch sight of Zu’té crouching next to a small flame, cooking what seems to be squid. It’s hard to be sure of what it is—the sun hasn’t fully bloomed, and though the rain has stopped it’s still a bit gloomy. You make your way over to him, taking extra care when going down the stairs.

“Morning.” You say nonchalantly. 

Zu’té’s ears spring up and he looks behind him—behind you—directly at the stairs. His brows lower and he sighs quickly, knowing there’s no point in making the comment. He looks back at his task, turning the slightly charred squid impaled by a sharpened branch. 

“You’re up early.” The giant states, back turned to you to reveal his insanely intricate tattoo. 

“Same to you.” You respond, staring at his back hard enough to burn holes into it. You see some scarring and thickened skin, presumably from his days as a warrior. That much you knew because of Ralak. 

“Squid. Help yourself.” Zu’té says, handing you a stick of burnt squid. 

Taking it from him, you hold it in front of your face, a little baffled at how he seemingly saw nothing wrong with it. 

“Hm…thanks. Looks…well done.” You try to force a smile, to no avail. 

You try to take a seat next to him, struggling to keep your balance as you lower yourself to your knees. His ears lay flat and he instinctively springs to his feet, helping you sit down. He didn’t think you’d join him here. 

It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. And awkward. You keep your extremities close and your tail closer, curled up in on yourself to remain as small as you can. Although, in comparison to your mate's brother, you were tiny. 

He’s not taller by much, but still taller nonetheless. It really makes you wonder how their parents looked for them to turn out this way. 

Zu’té eats hastily, shovelling the squid in his mouth as if it had the ability to slither away. It makes you look back at your own serving and suddenly your nerves go haywire. You didn’t want to risk getting sick, your bedside bucket is too far away to fetch. But you didn’t want to be rude—he’d obviously woken up early to make this for you. 

You take an experimental bite and fight for your life to keep a straight face. You exaggerate a nod and cover your mouth with your hand, hiding the way you're smacking away at this blubbery piece of meat. 

“Mm. Mhm.” You grunt, forcing it down and clearing your throat. “It’s—uhm, it’s not—”

“I am no ‘emyu [cooker].” He says, chucking his cleared stick into the fire. 

“Ahem—yeah. Yup.” You twirl the stick between your pointer finger and thumb, bringing his attention to your five fingered hand. His eyes widen a bit before quickly looking away, and you tuck them back in between your thighs. 

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sleep well?” 

You both speak at the same time, unintentionally clearing the tension in the air. 

“I suppose, all things considered.” You try to speak lightheartedly. “And you? Did any part of you freeze?” 

Zu’té laughs and shakes his head. “No, not quite.” 

“Well, that’s good.” You say, looking out at sea to witness the sun's emergence. It casts an orange hue over the water, illuminating the ripples of the oncoming waves. 

He’s watching it too. 

“Your tattoo.” You speak softly, witnessing his ears flutter. “…on your back.” 

“Ah. What of it?” 

“What does it mean? I mean—” You stutter, still adapting to the idea of inking being a symbolic statement. “What’s the story behind that?” 

The story replays in his head—the death of the spirit brothers and family. It flashes before him, as if he were in that moment again. The guilt and pain inside him is eternal, something that’s never left him since. He’s never spoken of it, not even to the person he hurt the most through it all—Ralak. 

His ears pin back and his jaw tightens. He shrugs his shoulders and mutters, “Felt like it.” 

“So…you’re telling me you did that, for fun?” The surprise is evident in your voice as you look at the tattoo again. His skin is raised and it spans the entirety of his upper back. “That must have been really painful. Ralak did mine and it took days.” 

“Didn’t hurt.” Zu’té says, turning his body to you yet keeping his eyes on the sun. But it did. It hurt—a lot. Self inflicted pain, to symbolise the pain he inflicted on others, even if it weren’t his intention. 

Maybe they are brothers. You think.

“You going to eat that?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, pointing at your squid on a stick. 

“Uhh—I’m going to pass.” You answer, offering it to him, “…sorry.” 

“Again. Not a ‘emyu [cooker]” He takes it gladly, biting off a decent chunk and chewing at it unbothered with a deadpan expression.

Nevermind. 

Now the silence isn’t as awkward. You choose to sit here a while longer, enjoying this moment as much as you can before coming back to reality. The reality that there may be a war brewing. That—

Ralak isn’t here. 

Well, that didn’t last long. 

Sadness washes over you, making your ears droop and your tail heavy. Your baby gives you a sudden, hard kick in the ribs, as if he were telling his mummy to cheer up. You uncross your legs and shift your weight to the one side, getting ready to get up and be productive.

 Zu’té seems to take note of that. 

“Need to get up?” He asks, chucking yet another stick into the fire. 

“I got it.” You grunt, shuffling to your knees.

Zu’té lets out a displeased grumble, understanding what his brother meant when he said you have a stubborn streak. He goes to help you anyways, supporting you by the elbow. 

You’re just about standing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back. It makes you jolt and grab onto Zu’té, whose slight irritation instantly turns into concern. 

“Y/n.” 

“I’m good, I’m good.” You repeat out of breath, steadying yourself before letting go. He seemed unsure if you really were okay. “Really. Happens all the time now.” 

Zu’té nods, letting go and giving you a little more space. “Alright.” 

——

The meeting spot is no other than the ‘head quarters’ of the ash people. It is only on this occasion that another clan may step foot on their land and walk away with a beating heart. That is, if all goes well. Tonowari is confident, however, knowing that the resource they provide the ash people is sufficient enough to prolong the treaty for many decades to come. 

It is an ore that forms deep underwater, and can only be extracted by the most skilled divers. Divers that can hold their breath for up to half an hour. The use of this ore remains unknown to the reef people, but the ash people are quick to seize it almost instantaneously at the drop off point. The ore is plentiful among the reef, renewing itself as it is harvested—the act of the great mother restoring balance as needed.

Truth be told, although the reef people are a peaceful people, it is no secret that they hold some of the strongest warriors on Pandora. They are proud of their home, and will fight to protect it at all costs. Even the ash people know this. Which is the reason for their agreement on something as laughable as a ‘peace’ treaty.

Otherwise, what’s really to stop them from annihilating the reef people and taking the ore themselves?  

Ralak meets with the others—Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal. They all set off far inland to the place the two clans met ten years ago. The trek is long and tiresome, leaving Ronal winded and in need of a couple breaks along the way. She is, too, heavy with child, but as tsahìk, she perseveres. Tonowari had tried to convince her several times to stay home, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“We are here.” Tonowari announces as the group nears the settlement of their natural enemy. It’s a rocky environment, much like the reef but with plenty of soil and clay. “Heads straight. Ignore them.”

——

Zu’té stays nearby the marui as he tends to some of Ralak’s duties, keeping an eye on you from afar. You sit comfortably on the bottom step of the marui stairs, concentrating on finishing your baby’s sling. Your fingers are a little swollen, making it more difficult to weave. Frustrated, you plop the sling to your side and bury your face into your hands. 

Everything is just too overwhelming right now. 

“Your technique is poor.” Zu’té’s voice booms over you. 

You look up, seeing this tall man with his hands on his hips tower over you, shading you from the sun. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I have plenty of knowledge on—” 

“This is a prrsmung [baby carrier], yes?” Zu’té picks up the sling and sits himself next to you, searching for the point in which you left off.

You watch intently, intrigued to know his next move. He carefully unravels all the wefts you’ve managed to do since sitting on this damned step. 

“What are you doing? Stop!” 

Zu’té sighs and demonstrates a weaving technique you’ve never seen before, entwining and knitting the fabric until it comes together in an even neater fashion. You look at him in awe, dumbstruck that he was able to do that. Ralak dislikes weaving, in fact, he loathes it. 

“Try it.” He says, plucking the fabric away from itself to unravel it once more before handing it back to you. You hesitate to take it, caught off guard from his unexpected, skilled movements. 

“My fingers are swollen.” You say, feeling defeated and a little embarrassed. He looks down, noticing your five-fingered hand again, not nearly surprised as last time. 

“Not as big as mine.” He tries to hand you the sling again. “You got it.” 

Reluctantly, you take the sling and slowly mirror his movements, replicating the technique perfectly. 

“See?” Zu’té sounds pleased with himself. Looking down at the sling, it dawns on you.

“So, you’re a weaver?” You ask the question as if you had just struck gold. “Usually the women take on that role.” 

“Not here, forest girl.” Zu’té defends his role proudly, “But yes, I am.” 

“Nice. It is good to see that. My grandmother is a great weaver, she taught me all I know.” You begin. 

For as long as your body would allow it, you and Zu’té sat on that step and wove together. You wove the sling and he went to fetch his satchel to work on a piece of his own. Though you did most of the talking, and found yourself dodging one too many snarky remarks, a bond formed on that step. 

You told him about your past at hometree, your reason for seeking uturu to begin with. 

The sky people. 

The words wouldn’t stop flowing, especially when you got onto the topic of how you met his brother. You explained that Ralak was your karyu [teacher] and how that quickly morphed into something much more beautiful. How you broke past his walls—took off his mask of indifference. 

But then that awkward silence came again. The silence that reminded you why this stranger was in your home to begin with. That he was playing watchdog because your mate had to leave your side whilst being heavily pregnant. 

“I lied.” Zu’té fills the silence. It has your ears perked up and your full attention on him. Your heart picked up speed, almost expecting something bad. “About?”

“That tattoo hurt like a kalweyaveng [son of a bitch].” 

His confession has you bellowing out in laughter, clutching your stomach to keep you from shaking up your baby. 

“I knew it.” You finally say once you calm down from a much needed laugh. “No good comes from trying to pretend that things don’t hurt, you know.” 

Little did you know these words weighed heavy on him. Heavier than you meant for them to. He falls silent, contemplating if he should say what he’s about to. The real confession. The real reason behind the tattoo. 

“I killed our spirit brothers.” He blurts out, astonished by his own voice. 

Did I really just say that? Shit.

“What?” You exhale, your heart now galloping in your chest.

“It was twelve years ago. I was…seventeen. Sent out to war. I had to keep Ralak out of it. I went alone…lead a group of warriors to protect the tulkun.” His voice seizes up, as if his throat were closing. He looks away, fixing his gaze to his feet. “I was still learning. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. The sky people…they slaughtered them all.” 

“Hey, hey. That’s not your fault, Zu’té. You didn’t kill them. The sky people did.” You rest your hand on his back, feeling how raised and toughened the skin where his inking lay deep.

Zu’té just looks at you, eyes trembling with vulnerability. It’s the first someone outside of the family has ever told him that. It’s something that he needed to hear. 

“Is that why you fled? Ralak told me you left him.” 

Zu’té nods, looking away in shame once more. “I abandoned him.”

You shake your head, knowing now that Ralak has healed and no longer feels this way. “He has healed Zu’té. And now it is your turn.” 

Zu’té only nods, allowing the silence to fill the space again. This time it’s needed. 

Until it's broken by a familiar voice. 

“Sister.” Neteyam greets you at the bottom step, throwing a smile your way, then to your stomach. “Little one.” 

He’s checking on you per your fathers request. Of course he wanted to ensure you were okay, too. 

“Tey.” You smile big, happy to see such a familiar, comforting face. “I thought you went.”

You reach out for the railing to pull yourself up, and both Neteyam and Zu’té go to help you get up. You side-hug Neteyam, finding comfort in your brother. It’s been a hectic night. 

“No, someone’s got to watch Tuk…and you.” Neteyam chuckles. As you let go, your glances at Ralak’s brother. “Neteyam, this is Ralak’s brother. Zu’té.” You introduce the two properly. 

Taught manners from a young age, Neteyam gestures ‘I see you’ to the former warrior, and he returns the sign. 

“Uncle TeyTey’s got you guys for the day.” Neteyam coos at your tummy, and then offers you his arm. 

“Right...Dads orders?” You ask, happy to go with him. 

“Dads orders.” Neteyam nods firmly, looking at Zu’té to relay the message. Zu’té returns the nod, being present to hear your fathers concerns about the entire arrangement. Besides, it’ll give him time to hunt for something proper for dinner. 

“C’mon guys!” Lo’ak shouts from the ocean, mounted on his skimwing with Tuk behind him. 

“See you. Think about what I said.” You say to Zu’té, prompting him to wave goodbye. Neteyam walks you to his tsurak, helping you to get on. You had retired your tsurak for the time being, finding it hard to ride with your back pain. 

“Hey Lo’. Tuk-Tuk.” You say with relief in your voice, finding comfort in the company of your family. 

——

The ash people are impudent to say the least. They follow behind the five na’vi weaving their way through the growing crowd, right on their tails as they try to get a better look at them. They are particularly interested in Jake and Neytiri, seeing the forest people for the first time. But most haven’t even gotten a look at the reef people yet, despite having the agreement with them for so many decades already. 

Some even dare to poke and prod, tugging at their tails and their hair to get a feel or whiff of their scents. Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri and Ralak walk in a formation that allows Ronal to be in the centre, safe guarded from any pointed fingernails or astray noses. Ralak is on edge, but one could never tell by a glance. His appearance is intimidating, a stature so tall he and Tonowari tower over the crowd. 

“I do the talking.” Tonowari says discreetly as they near the entrance of the hut. 

The room is made of some sort of red clay substance, seemingly burnt to a char until it has been hardened into what feels like rock. This one in particular is large, containing smaller sectioned off rooms, partitioned with thick leather curtains. It's all very bleak, rid of liveliness and colour. 

As they enter the hut, two bigger ash na’vi guard the door on either side, blocking and guarding the entrance behind them. Two more ash na’vi lead the group with spears to their backs to a large curtain, and shove them towards it with a few harsh jabs to Jake’s and Ralak’s spines. Jake snaps around, throwing them a dirty look. Whilst Ralak keeps his gaze fixed to his feet. He feels deep in his gut that something isn’t right. 

Whether it be here, or back home. 

With each step he takes, the sense of impending doom only worsens. He has no desire to be here but he recognizes that this is what is necessary. Yet, he can’t help the way he feels. And when he finally raises his head all the pieces link together. It all makes sense. 

Before them are five na’vi in total. Two women and three men. Four ash na’vi and one…reef na’vi. A female, reef na’vi. Her face is unmistakable—unforgettable. It’s been seared into his mind since he was a young boy.

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished. 

His karyu.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[arminsumi]

WHO IS SHE?

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A Kyoto student gives the Six Eyes a run for his money during the tournament. Are they really fighting or just flirting?

M.LIST

1.2k

Summary : during the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, a student Gojo encounters someone who can match his strength. It's not humbling. It hurts his pride. But neither of you can deny the tension between you two. You and him are just flirting back and forth like crazy, forming a lustful rivalry.

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : mature/18+ content, not proofread, blood, innuendos / suggestive jokes (use of daddy, kitten), sexual/romantic tension, rivalry, making a sexual bet (bj if gojo wins 🫡), cliffhanger ending ig

Note : ayo... AYOOOOOOO!!! i found this idea in the drafts from 3 months ago and wrote smth for it... LET ME KNOW IF U WANT MORE??? bc there's more content for it... hehe 🤭💗 it's got that rivals that wanna fuck type beat ig

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

There's crimson blood dribbling out his nose, and he wipes it away in amazement.

What the hell just hit me?

"Heyyy Six Eyes~!" you smile, split-sitting on a branch.

Gojo Satoru rears his head up at you and squints from the sun. He makes out your figure, hears your voice, and feels this sense of mortality. It gives him a rush.

Fuck. Who is she...? That Kyoto student?

"Oh. Hey Kyoto Princess." He returns condescendingly. He sinks his hands in his pockets to look at ease, though he's anything but in your presence right now. You really shook him up there.

"The blood looks hot on you." you flirt and cause his heartbeat to accelerate.

"Uh-huh... you gonna stay up there like a scaredy cat or you gonna come down here and show me those claws again, kitten?"

He's trying so hard to scramble up those words. He's trying so hard to seem intimidating. To stand his ground against you. He's trying so very, very hard. He's straining himself. Neck tendons pronouncing with his hard swallow. Sweat beading off his forehead.

Damn the summer sun. It makes the tournament so much harder. Though admittedly, he'd be startled by your technique during any season.

You lean down and make a feline movement that makes something click in the horny region of his brain.

"Nah, I like the view from up here... why don't you climb up 'n come give me kitty cuddles?" you say.

Ooh. That voice is chilling. I like it.

"No fucking way." he laughs incredulously. "You can come."

"Oh is daddy giving his kitten permission to cum?" you play.

His eyes go wide. "What the fu—"

There's a rush of wind, your friend interrupts the awkward flirting and comes to your side and asks you what the situation is.

"Why the hold up? You said you'd come 'round again, I was waiting for you. That bangs guy is kind of a menace... 'coulda used your help."

"Sorry..." you smile and maintain this electric eye contact with Gojo. "I got a bit infatuated with Mister Six Eyes over there. He's quite the cutie pie."

Gojo's heart flutters... and he hates it. He feels boyish because of you. Like he's just some dumb teenager with a crush on the hot girl who gave him a nosebleed. Literally, in this case.

"Uh... okay...? Sheesh. Were you trying to fight him or cause deforestation?" your friend grimaces at the splintered and split trees. "Um... anyways... can we go, or are you two still busy flirting?"

"I'm coming, alright." you wink at Gojo.

"What the fu— SUGURU."

Oh, such good timing. Bangs guy appears.

"What's the hold up?" Suguru asks.

Your friend chimes, "That's what I was asking! These two are fucking flirting!"

"Haha, what? Oh Satoru... why is your nose all bloody?" Suguru asks nonchalantly.

"A cat scratched me."

"...? What? What happened?"

"She happened." Gojo glares at you.

You wave at him. He wishes he could bite you, but he's not ready just yet to approach you.

Suguru looks at his friend, then at you, then at the damaged trees, and his features grow both impressed and confused.

"You're telling me... a tiny thing like her did all this?"

Gojo shrugs funnily, "Yeah, she's pretty romantic, isn't she?"

You wink at him. He feels a pang in his chest and furrows his brows.

"Okay. Yeah. Sam, I see what you mean about them flirting."

"Right?"

You giggle. Gojo groans.

There's an auditory announcement echoing through the forest.

Today's event is ending, please return to the starting point.

"Aw, playtime is over. See you next time, Six Eyes."

"Keep callin' me Six eyes, princess, I fucking dare you." Gojo seethes.

All four of you trek back to the starting point. Gojo is stealing hot glances of you, looking grumpy but feeling his pants tighten. You're sweating from the heat. So is he.

I can make you weak for me. Just you wait.

"Satoru, tell me all about it. I want the details." Suguru leans close and asks in a hushed tone. You're busy talking to your friend, outright humiliating poor Mister Six Eyes to her.

"She's too damn fast." he grumbles, rubbing his neck to get the tension out. You really gave his poor body a beating back there. "Like a flicker in my vision... uh, but the main reason she was a challenge was because of all that flirting, of course."

"Oh, yeah right..." Suguru rolls his eyes, then leans even closer, "Was she really flirting with you?"

"Yeah..."

"Lucky."

"What the hell, Suguru." Gojo laughs.

"You should make a move. I'm sure she's got a thing for you. She keeps looking over." Suguru encourages.

"Are you high? She really fucked me up back there. Anyways... I think her flirting was condescending. That's why I flirted condescendingly back. Shit what if she was actually flirtin' with me..."

Satoru and Suguru look at you. And you look back. Your friend is snickering and it bothers Satoru.

But nothing bothers him more than that smug face of yours. He marches right up to you in the corridors later, when it's just you and him.

He pins you right against the wall and you giggle, letting him show off his strength and height.

His breath tickles your face, his eyes threaten to burn your soul.

"Next time, I'll win." he seethes in a deep voice. He notes how you squeeze your thighs together.

"Wanna bet?" you smile seductively.

"Sure. If I win, you have to tell all your cute little friends about how Mister Six Eyes is stronger than you." he says.

"Okay. Whatever. If I win..."

He listens intently.

"... I get to suck your dick."

He blushes. Stutters. Brain freezes. Malfunctions.

Wow. What. Huh?

"Haha, you're cute. Have you never received head before?" you ask forwardly.

His conscious skips beats, words tumble out.

"I — uh... y-yeah of course I have!" he lies.

"Sure you have, big boy." you bring your lips closer and he dissolves. He's so fucked. He's so turned on by you it's actually pissing him off.

He doesn't move away, just lets you graze your lips over his own. You make him shudder. Make his cock start to strain against his tight uniform pants.

"So... are we taking this bet then?"

"Y-yeah... yes. Um. Yes. Absolutely. Please."

"Haha... okay then. See you tomorrow... Satoru~"

Wow. You just broke him there. He doesn't move or speak, just stands motionlessly blinking at the wall as you slip away out of his pinning grip.

He thinks to himself;

Nah. I don't think I care about winning anymore. Screw pride.

But then comes the next morning and... he swells with pride.

Nah. Screw her. I don't need to feel her lips wrapping around my dick.

"Hey, Six Eyes." you greet him at the tournament grounds, flirting so unashamedly that you earn a very disapproving looks from the teachers.

"Hey, Kyoto Princess." he greets back, "flirting" too. His stomach flips when you lick your lips suggestively, as a callback to the bet you made with him.

"Wish ya luck." you tell him.

"I don't need it." he retaliates.

Suguru and your friend just distantly watch, snickering, at the sexual tension between you and Gojo Satoru;

Your natural rival. When he was born, so were you, meant to exist as the only thing that could weaken the Six Eyes.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[dandylovesturtles]

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |