#(technically one of two or three people but the others are your younger sibling and cousin and you won’t put that on them)

[fore-seer]

insane about lucina today

[soleminisanction]

I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.

Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:

Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.

Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.

Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.

Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.

Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.

Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.

Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.

Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.

Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.

Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.

Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

As someone who has always loved siblings dynamics in fiction, I find it funny that almost every single member of the HoM team has siblings. Kim has two little brothers, Danny has an older sister, Jake has a little sister, Jenny has eight robot sisters, June has an older and a younger brother, Rex has an older brother, and Zak has three cryptid siblings. Ben and Randy are the only ones who are technically only children but Ben still at least has a cousin who he has a sibling dynamic with. I don't think Randy had anyone like that. (Although it's one of the few shows here that I didn't watch so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.) Any way, now Only Child Cunningham is being treated like the little brother by all of these experienced siblings and has no clue what to do and I find that funny.

(P.s. sorry about the long comment. This thought wouldn't leave me alone so I thought i should share it)

(P.p.s I love your HoM au and your art. Thank you for sharing it!)

Please, don't be sorry, this is like, one of my favorite asks about HoMies I ever got! And also thank you for your kind words! <3<3<3

I also adore sibling dynamics in fiction! It's one of the main reasons I don't want to put much focus on ships in this AU, like I mentioned before, there would be like one canon couple with one of HoMies, but otherwise everyone are sort of floating in nebulous single area, so I could focus better on their complicated friendships with a dash of found family/siblings dynamics!

(And your ask reminded me of a fanart I did a long time ago about Randy being the only child in Secret Trio. xD same brain anon!)

Also one can argue that Howard, Randy's best friend, could be considered sort of like a brother to him (they became friends at a very young age), but I personally view them more as Bros. (does it make sense, lol?)

But even if we count Howard, their dynamic would be more equal in older-younger sibling scale, while Randy indeed would be mostly treated as a younger sibling amongst HoMies and it would probably drive him insane!

Being the youngest and newest in their friend circle, he is like a new baby brother or a co-worker/young kohai (ye, cringe wording but terminology vibe aint wrong! xD) that others are prepared to protect and help, impart their wisdom on, but also tease! (and perhaps learn something from him in return! )

But Randy Only Child Cunningham, as an already seasoned, if a bit overconfident, hero would hate (just a little bit) being considered as less experienced (even if he technically is) than others, no matter how much he absolutely adores being in presence of all those cool people! At times it would feel condescending, but in reality others just want to support him the more they learn about how he came to be the Ninja.

After all they know what it felt like being that young, having that responsibility trust upon your shoulders and going through so much. Especially considering that among them, Randy perhaps had the least stable support during his hero-ing career. Sure, all of them had to go through some things alone, but there were family and friends that were there to help when it came to it. And, no offense to Howard, who does sometimes manages to get through for Randy, he is not the best at being the type of support Randy needs at times. And, Ninjanomicon? While incredibly useful for teaching moral lessons and art of being Ninja - is not exactly the most er, physically able in supporting Randy at time of crisis, being an inanimate object and all that, lol.

So yes, Randy-Only Child-Lone Ninja Hero-Cunningham sometimes doesn't know what to do with all those people who appeared in his life and treat him like a little bro! But sometimes, he enjoys it. ;)

(a little bit of random rambling beneath, feel free to ignore! haha)

Also random, and its not very obvious at all, but there is slightest differences amongst HoMies on how they view/regard him and behave with/around him, depending on their own experiences:

Kim and Jake, as older siblings through and through, tend to see him as a younger bro, like their own siblings who can be a handful and overzealous little hellions at times.

Danny, Rex, Jenny and Zak are a bit complicated. They all have siblings that are older than them, but they are also kind of younger in some sense (or in Danny's case an adopted younger sibling).

Danny and Rex would tend to be overprotective a little bit, as people who didnt have a younger sibling before (I mean, Danny does but she is so independant! Danny doesnt get to exercise his overprotectiveness on Danielle xD) so its a bit new to them. But they are also kind of dicks, and thats just the younger siblings in them talking, lol.

Jenny and Zak on the other hand, both have siblings that are very confusing from the age bracket view.

All ofJenny's siblings are older than her BUT their prototype AI and bodies make them behave younger than her, so she tends to view them as younger siblings. There is a constant argument amongst them about who is older-younger, but its all in good fun! (She also sometimes misses being the only child. xD)

Zak's siblings are all cryptids, and two of them are older than him in age (Fisk and Zon are definitily full grown and possibly more long-lived than humans, I still have questions about Komodo, but he is probably older than Zak in age just by a little bit), but their behaviour, as.... well, i don't want to say animals, because they are not mindless animals, but let's just say - their disregard to human behaviours and norms, as cryptids, make them behave in a way that could be considered irresponsible, thus making Zak often behave like a responsible older sibling, despite being younger than them.

So, Jenny and Zak tend to be as snooty and in 'charge' as an older sibling would, but also be mischevous little shits that is younger (sorta only) child behaviour.

Ben and Jun are sort of like the previous four, but they tend to view Randy on a more equal footing rather than just vacilate between older-younger types of behaviour.

Ben, is a single child, but he grew up pretty close to Gwen, since they were born on the same day. Sort of growing up twins but not kinda situation. They also have an older cousin/brother Ken, and they both adore him, but it is obvious that primarly those two grew up together and are equally annoyed with that, lol.

Jun is a middle child. (I kind of dont want to say anything else, because i feel like it explains everything. xD but-) She is independant, and is equally exasparated with her snooty older brother and her hellion of a younger brother. So, really, she just tends to be the most normal towards Randy in the end???

so, ye, of course in the end they treat him as just a new friend, this was just more of me trying to look into inner mind of sibling dynamics in a weird way haha

sorry about it, but if you got this far, hope you had an entertaining read! ;D

[bunni-v1]

Hi! For the 500 follower special, can I get L,O,Q and X from the sfw alphabet, for deuce, Lilia and malleus? Thank you <3

🍓I'm powering through the sfw requests, then I'll get nsfw, and then full lists in the same order. I'm so glad so many people requested, I just hope I don't let anyone down with my responses :/

I DROP MALLEUS LORE SPOILERS IN MALLEUS' OPEN PROMPT!!! (NOTHING BIG, BUT ITS MALLEUS LORE)

Deuce

L - Little Ones (how are they around children?): Oh, Deuce LOVES kids. He just thinks they're so cute and sweet and -- ugh, he wishes he had siblings to spoil. Equally, though, he's very nervous around them when he first meets a kid. I mean, they're so little? How are the so tiny and helpless? He just wants to smother them with affection, but he can't cause they might die if he does that.

O - Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves?): Deuce is a pretty open book from the start. He doesn't really have a reason to hide, and if you're his partner, why would he want to hide anything? So, you probably know most things about him before you even start dating, and then he tells you the more embarrassing things later down the line as you get more serious about each other.

Q - Quizzes (how much would they remember about you?): Listen, he's not good with the little things like favorite colors or what your favorite song is. But if you tell him what your favorite flower is, your favorite restaurant? He never forgets it. It goes in the long-term Deuce memory bank, forever categorized as incredibly important, but he has no idea why until he needs the information.

X - Xtra: Deuce is, surprisingly, very good with hair. He used to have to help his mom style hers, so he knows a ton of really cool tricks for styling it. Female, male, non-binary -- doesn't matter, he knows how to style your hair and it's going to feel like a GODSEND to your scalp.

Lilia

L - Little Ones: Lilia's favorite hobby is being a father of three, so it's safe to assume he loves kids. Just everything about them is so darn cute -- their stubby little arms and disproportionate bodies. Oh! He can't get enough. If he could raise a hundred more kids, he absolutely would love to!

O - Open: Lilia, unlike Deuce, is not open at all! He puts on this bright and cheery face so he can hide from his dark and fucked up past. You are the light of his life, his guiding start in the night sky -- he doesn't want you to know how much of a monster he is. It's not until you are WELL SETTLED in your relationship that he tells you about his painful past, the things he's done, and how badly he wishes he could take it all back.

Q - Quizzes: Oh, Lilia knows everything. His memory just seems endless, and no matter if you told him something today or years ago, he would remember it clear as day. Every little detail from the very basics to the intricate ways you go about doing different things, he knows and adores all of them.

X - Xtra: Lilia is very good at gambling -- just hear me out. He's incredibly observant and reads people better than they do themselves. Not only that, he's smart. He can sit down at any gambling game, any kind, even if he's a beginner, and walk away with as much money as he wants. He is a casinos worst nightmare.

Malleus

L - Little Ones: Children make Malleus... nervous. They're very little, and they seem very unaware of things around them, yet they have the confidence and demand of a well-established ruler. It's discomforting. Still, he did help raise (technically) two younger boys, so he does harbor some affection for children, he just has to get used to them for him to really enjoy them.

O - Open: It's not to say that Malleus is NOT open, it's just that he doesn't think to share things about himself. So he seems closed off, but really he's just thinking about gargoyles. He does this... thing, though, where he just... lore drops on you. Out of nowhere, he just "My mother died before I was born, and the love that Lilia gave me was enough to cause me to hatch, therefore, he is the closest thing to a father figure I will ever have." Kay... cool Malleus.

Q - Quizzes: He is so bad at keeping track of time, he will not remember 90% of the things about you. He will, however, remember the most random things. Like he doesn't remember what year you were born, but he knows your favorite character and all their lore. It's because he only cares about the things you care about a lot. If you talk about something frequently, he's going to go out of his way to learn more about it because it matters to you <3

X - Xtra: Malleus has an EXTENSIVE collection of Magic The Gathering Cards (or the test equivalent). He doesn't play the game, he has no idea how it works, but he really likes the collecting part of the whole thing. The art on the cards is pretty, and that was enough to fuel a whole collection.

[cordyce]

(we are written) in the sand and in the stars

Neteyam x Reader

Fic Summary: Sullys stick together. That is something you have heard since the beginning. But when you are forced to uproot and leave your home, it is something you must learn to fully take to heart. You are not technically a Sully, but you fight like one. And that in turn is enough to be shielded like one as well. There is no choice but to openly accept that this family, these Na’vi, are your fortress. It is perhaps harder, though, to accept that Neteyam has seemingly appointed himself as your personal guard.

༄ CHAPTER THREE: SHORELINES ON A STRING

Chapter Summary: There is no real time given for you and your family to settle into your new home; essentially, you’re thrown into the lion’s den of Metkayina training the very first day after you arrive. But even as you find yourself struggling, it seems like someone is always right there to step in to help. Someone exceedingly familiar and far too willing.

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Water lessons are set to begin the very next morning. The chief’s children–Tsireya and Ao’nung–are still holding true to their assignments as your trainers. Rotxo, who you have since learned is merely just a friend of the others and not actually their sibling, has apparently appointed himself as one of your trainers, as well.

If you had to give your honest opinion on the matter, you think being thrown headlong into Metkayina lifestyle training the first day after you arrived was rushing it, just the tiniest bit. But then again, no one did ask for your opinion–a seemingly recurring affair.

The Metkayinas are already waiting on the edge of your family’s bungalow by the time you and your siblings step out of it. Apart from a smile and wave from Tsireya (the only one who seems truly happy to be here) there is no greeting before the three of them turn and dive directly–gracefully, you must admit–into the water below.

So much for asking for pointers beforehand, you think.

You watch as Neteyam and Lo’ak smile at each other before Neteyam hits Lo’ak’s shoulder with a light “come on” and then they’re jumping right in too. Definitely not as graceful as the reef people before them and certainly nowhere near as well practiced.

(Personally, you think they look more like Na’vi being thrown off the backs of their ikrans as they flail into the water, but you choose not to voice that to save a bit of their pride).

Tuk does nothing to stave off her outward excitement, and her wide grin flashes to you and Kiri at the prospect of jumping in. It’s just the three of you left, and you know it will be easier if you all go together. But as you move forward with your sisters, it’s like there is a tether holding you to the makeshift dock that tugs you back as their momentum lets them jump forward.

You were hoping the prolonged amount of time flying over the open ocean would have solved this. If anything, you thought you could get over this unease if you just pushed yourself off and jumped straight in. That’s what your father would always tell you and your siblings when you were younger, anyway; that you can overcome any problem if you go at it head first.

Now, though, it seems like your head is what keeps causing this problem in the first place.

It makes you feel stupid, as your siblings slowly pop their heads back out of the water one by one to find you still standing there on the netting. You want to kick yourself for being so apprehensive when the chief’s children raise themselves above the surf just to give you questioning looks. Suddenly you feel two inches tall, and you wish you were so you could hide from their misty glances.

“What’s wrong, (Y/n)?” Tuk asks, eyes wide as she looks up at you from where she’s floating in the water.

She makes it look so easy, so manageable. And that makes you feel twice as stupid than you already do.

“I–”

“Don’t tell me you can’t swim.”

It’s Ao’nung, who asks it. Your gaze darts over to him and your stomach twists at the smirk on his face, the animosity in his eyes. Despite Tsireya slapping his arm, he doesn’t waver. Neteyam and Lo’ak whip their heads around to face him, both opening their mouths like they’re about to fire something off. Lo’ak may have just teased you for your fears all along the journey here, but you know he’d never let anyone else get away with doing such a thing.

“I can swim, thank you,” you counter in the same tone as your instigator before the two of them have the chance to mouth something off that you know will do nothing but get them into trouble. And it isn’t a lie. You can swim, it’s just..

“Then get in the water. We don’t have all day.” Ao’nung tips his head, raises his eyebrows expectantly, like he’s wanting you to give up just to give him the satisfaction of it.

You’d like to wipe that look right off of his haughty, patronizing face.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your gaze becomes downcast once more, pointed to the water below you. It isn’t deep but it is definitely extensive enough that you know it will be well above your head. Your hands feel sickeningly numb and a part of you is debating on whether or not to backtrack on your previous statement and simply pretend you can’t swim just to get out of this. Yet, just before you think of turning on your heel and walking off, Neteyam swims to the edge of the landing.

“If you jump in, I’ll catch you,” he offers as he raises his hands up in your direction. The look on his face is a complete contrast compared to Ao’nung’s. It’s steady, fervent. “It will be okay.”

It’s hard for you to tell if it’s his words or his actions that have you crouching lower on the edge of the platform, that have you trusting him and swallowing that first pebble of dread down your uncomfortably tight throat. Regardless of which one it is, your hands feel just a little less numb as you reach down for him too.

“You promise you won’t let me drown?” You implore quietly, where just the two of you can hear, and you laugh weakly in an attempt to appear just a smidgen unbothered. There’s a shake in your fingertips and a tremble in your deliverance that you try your best to hide; you wonder how well you do so.

He is just out of your reach, a few finger widths away from touching is all that separates the pair of you, and he nods.

“Pӓnutìng,” [“I Promise”] he heartens instantly, ardently.

So, you jump.

It lasts only for a split second, the dropping of your gut as your toes hit the water that has you sucking in a breath and wanting desperately to scramble backwards in an effort to grab onto any piece of the netted dock that your fingertips can cling to. But then you feel the grip of Neteyam’s hands just below your ribs, the security of his hold that softens your blow into the water and allows you to keep your head above it, just enough. Your breath trickles out of you like a stuttering faucet as the waves from your descent settle into their natural ripple once again, and you look to Neteyam who is already looking at you.

“See? No drowning,” he grins, a tilt of playfulness in his tone you know to be walking the line of teasing. You’re tempted to say something to level it, but he turns genuine again before you do. “Just stick beside me. We’ll do this together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe as everyone else dives under the water once again, “Irayo.” [ “Thanks.” ]

Neteyam releases his grip on you and takes in a deep breath before diving down, head disappearing out of your sight. Though your fingers are still twitching, your tail still quivering every other beat, you decide it is now or never. You suck in a deep breath of your own and force your head below the waves.

Nothing could have prepared you for just how beautiful life below sea level is. Even while being veiled with a tinge of crystal blue, everything is so vibrant, so effervescent. Life is bustling underwater–schools of fish part to swim around you and scatter as your hand slices past them, species you have never seen glide away elegantly like they’re merely floating. Nothing seems afraid of your presence, swayed by the addition of your group in their waters in the slightest.

It’s like it all simply accepts you, embraces you as a newfound part of the ecosystem it shall adapt around; flourish regardless.

Your eyes stay wide as you linger close to Neteyam’s side. You really are a perfectly fine swimmer, but it is clear each of you are greatly sub par when compared to the Metkayina people. Tsireya, swimming backwards, beckons for you all to follow, so you try your best to do so. Well, except for Kiri, who you notice exploring in her own direction, seemingly captivated. You don’t blame her. It’s hard not to get caught up in it all, being surrounded by such novel beauty has your mind reeling, and Kiri has always been so in tune with the life around her.

But your marveling is cut short once your chest starts to feel tight–in a way you know is not caused by your current bout of anxiety–so you tug on Neteyam’s arm and point up. He nods, taps Lo’ak, and the four of you swim to the top.

Each of you gasp in the salty air as you break out of the liquid confines of the ocean, giving your lungs a replenishing break. It is short lived, despite your wish that it wasn’t, as you dip your heads back under just to see Tsireya’s hand signal–which you can only assume means for all of you to follow her once more, because this kind of sign language is something none of you have ever been taught. You each suck in another cursory breath and attempt to dive again.

You are well aware that their anatomy is slightly different than yours, more suited (better adapted) for this terrain and aquatic life, but it still baffles you how much of an advantage they hold over each of your heads. They are lightyears better swimmers than you Sullys are, and a part of you knows no amount of training will ever change that. You could never dream of swimming with such ease, such inclination.

This dive is even shorter, lasting only a fraction of the time your first one did. Neteyam is the first to signal a need for breath now, but all four of you are in dire need of the air. You wonder if it’s because you dove deeper, if it was the pressure that made you need it that much faster. The pressure was definitely getting to you, in a more mental sense, so you were thankful as you swam for the surface regardless of the reason.

Turning to look at Tuk (because even if you personally are inclined to think you’re going to have a heart attack at any given second, you feel the need to ensure she’s alright) as you suck in a breath, you don’t notice how your hand instinctively grabs onto Neteyam’s arm to soothe yourself. That is, until he places his own hand on top of yours.

“You okay?”

Tipping your head, you mumble an affirmation. Inherently, you are okay. It feels like such a foolish and trivial thing, to be scared of something as plain as water, but then again it’s not really the water you’re scared of, is it?

“Are you alright?” Tsireya questions your group as the three of them rise above the tide.

“You’re too fast,” Tuk whines, voicing what all of you are thinking but being the only one you know could get away with such a straightforward grievance. “Wait for us!”

“Just breathe,” Tsireya soothes. “Breathe.”

“Easier said than done,” you mutter under your breath, fighting the roll of your eyes at such a statement from someone who appears to have the breath control of a fish. Or Lo’ak when he used to hold his breath as a threat to your parents as a child.

“You are not good divers,” Ao’nung smarts off. “Maybe good at swinging through trees, but..”

That earns him a smack to the back of his head from his sister and you don’t even try to hide your puff of a laugh at the sight. Well deserved, in your opinion. He maybe even needs another smack or two, the way you see it.

“C’mon bro,” Lo’ak wagers.

“We don’t speak this finger talk, you guys,” Neteyam voices, holding up his hand to poorly copy one of the signs Tsireya had been trying to show earlier. “We don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I will teach you,” Tsireya offers, ever the dutiful, generous girl she keeps proving herself to be. You wish some of that would rub off on her brother.

Before you can ask if there’s some sort of textbook on it, Rotxo speaks up for the first time today. “Where’s Kiri?

“Who?”

“Kiri,” he repeats. “Where is Kiri?”

“Did you see her?”

“Yeah, don’t–don’t worry,” you dismiss, and you think for a second as you see everyone’s eyes darting around frantically that your family is lucky to have at least one member who is halfway observant of everyone’s whereabouts. “I saw her swimming that other way earlier. She likes exploring things herself. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Everyone nods, though Tsireya and Rotxo give one last look in the direction you had motioned with your head, before you’re being told you can make your way back to the shallows for your next portion of training. You aren’t sure what it is, but you’re willing to paint on any face of excitement if it means your feet will be on solid ground again as you follow your escorts towards the shore, thankful to not be submerged any longer.

As Ao’nung calls out for the animals of which your next area of training will be revolving around, any trace of thankfulness drains from your body.

“These are ilus,” he states with a gesture of his hand to the creatures that have just swam up upon being summoned. “If you want to live here, you have to ride.”

As he is saying this, Tsireya is already leading Lo’ak over to his own ilu. You observe as he climbs onto it smoothly enough. It is a lot easier saddling onto the ilu than the ikran, you have deduced, but that does not mean you are willing to attempt it.

You listen in as Tsireya tries to give Lo’ak pointers, showing him where to hold on his ilu, how he should position himself. Then, you watch as he takes off into the water. Lo’ak has never been a particularly fast learner, so you partially expected it to go awry his first time, but it still makes you flinch when you see him fly off the back of his ilu within seconds of the ride.

The Metkayina people around laugh at his blunder (something you might have joined in on in any other circumstance at seeing your brother flounder like that), but now it simply has you wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” Ao’nung simpers as he turns around to face you, the same stupid, trying tilt of his lips from before. “Let’s see if you fly off faster than your brother.”

“Pass,” you respond instantly, stepping away from the ilu he calls up between the two of you.

“Pass?” He scrunches his brows at you, reaches over to tug on your arm to bring you closer to the ilu. “There’s no pass. You have to ride, you don’t have a choice.”

You jerk your arm out of his grasp and step back again. “I don’t want to.”

“Just try it!” It’s Tuk this time, who chimes in from where she’s standing in front of an ilu of her own that Tsireya has called up for her. She’s being supportive, you know this, but it does not dull the edge in your response.

“No, Tuk, I said I don’t want to,” you shake your head, but your eyes soften as you look at her hopeful face. “Mom isn’t learning so I shouldn’t be forced to, either.”

This seems to strike a nerve with the Metkayina boys standing around as you hear their grumbles and gripes. But it seems to especially unnerve Ao’nung, who takes a stride forward like he’s wanting to get up in your face.

“Now you listen here, forest girl–”

“It’s fine,” a voice cuts through just before Ao’nung gets too close. You both look over to see Neteyam, who has apparently already found his way onto an ilu by the help of Rotxo, who’s standing awkwardly nearby. “She can just ride with me. Or will that cause more problems, too?”

Neteyam’s smiling, but his eyes do not mirror that same warmth. Something inside you surges at the blunt proposition. You pass it off to be straight satisfaction, given you get to see how the ever so smug Ao’nung falters in expression before he whips himself around with a click against his teeth.

“Fine. But first learning to ride with two is harder. Do not complain to me when you can’t get the hang of it.”

He gives none of you the opportunity to reply before he’s stalking off, so you find your way over to Neteyam. Rotxo is giving him a run down on hand positions and how to hold his body underwater when you make it to his side. They both turn their attention to you as you step up next to them.

“Are you sure? About the riding with you thing?” you push, because the last thing you want to do is slow down everyone else’s adaptability because of your own (foolish) personal issues. Again. “I can just sneak off and let you do it on your own.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t,” he reaffirms, then turns back to Rotxo. “How will it be different for two?”

It takes a few minutes for Rotxo to tweak and try his explanations for riding with a passenger. It really doesn’t seem all that difficult, but then again you’re still above water, and you won’t be the one steering this thing. He instructs you to climb onto Neteyam’s ilu just behind him and you do as you’re told. It’s a bit awkward, figuring out the hand positions and how close you really need to be seated. Rotxo places your arms around Neteyam’s waist and directs you to lock your hands there. He explains that you can be more lenient with the hand placement when you get more comfortable riding, but for now the grip has to stay tight and secure.

As you feel Neteyam tense under your hands, ever so slightly, you wonder if maybe he’s nervous about this whole riding thing, too. You don’t get the chance to ask him before he takes off.

It’s rough the first few rides (and you aren’t sure who freaks out more when you and Neteyam fly off in separate directions underwater, you or him) but eventually it becomes a little easier. You feel guilty, deep in your gut, for tampering with Neteyam’s experience and hardening his learning curve. But you try to remind yourself as Tsireya and Rotxo guide your family away from the shallows that he was the one who offered, that it was his choice to volunteer himself.

It takes you a bit to actually find the courage to look around as you’re riding through the water instead of hiding your face in Neteyam’s shoulder (this is a lot faster than just swimming, after all), but when you do you find yourself at the same level of amazement you had been before. It really is extraordinary, life in the sea, and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that a part of you might like it here after all.

After seeing everyone is well adjusted enough on their ilus, Tsireya and Rotxo pull your family (minus Tuk) to the rocks for some breathing lessons. Having good breath control is one of the most vital components of being a successful diver, you’re told.

As far as you’re concerned, taking advice from people quite literally born in the water is pretty redundant, all things considered.

Tsireya and Rotxo (the latter, you’ve discovered, is far more willing to help with you newcomers than the Olo’eyktan’s own son) begin to lead your circle through various breathing exercises. The key is long, deep breaths, focusing to slow down your heart rate as much as possible. Keeping yourself calm, at peace.

Something you’ve never been particularly great at.

Tsireya tries to use Lo’ak to demonstrate this, who does alright on the breathing portion, but fails drastically (embarrassingly, more like) when she places her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat.

She tells him his heart is beating too fast and you nearly burst out laughing–Neteyam does, along with Rotxo, laugh under his breath when she says it, to which Kiri rolls her eyes. And you can tell by the look on Lo’ak’s face that he wants nothing more than the rocks beneath him to split open so he can have an early meeting with the great mother right about now.

You’re given a few more tips, some other concepts you can try in order to get your heart rate as slow as possible, before everyone starts to depart. Tsireya and Lo’ak split off, talking about diving lessons and giving incentive. Kiri wanders away to do what you can only assume will be more exploring, and you watch Rotxo venture towards the village center (probably to find that insufferable friend of his). Which leaves you and Neteyam, who apparently already has an idea in mind.

“Okay, breathe with me,” he instructs.

A huff blows past your lips. “This is stupid, Neteyam.”

You’re sitting directly across from him in water that comes just up to your chin. If you were standing, it would probably reach right above the middle of your thighs. It’s shallow enough, but you understand what he is getting at. Doesn’t mean you’re all too thrilled about it, though.

“It’s not stupid, you skxawng,” he deters, then promptly dodges the hand you swing at him at the name. He simpers at you and grabs your hand as you go to pull it back (like that fell right into his plans) and places it to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, the rhythmic pump of it under your palm. “Together. Breathe.”

“If you want to do this together then don’t you need to feel mine too?” You question, because isn’t that the point of all this?

Neteyam’s ears twitch at your query, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you’d felt his breath hitch. For what reason, you don’t know.

“Right. Yes,” he agrees and moves his hand through the water closer to you, but he falters.

You furrow your brows at that, jut out your lip, because if he’s forcing you to do all this then the least he can do is cooperate right along with you. Sighing, you grab his hand and place it to your chest, palm to heart just like you are to him. The only difference is his hand has one finger less than you, a fact that mentally makes you grimace. A reminder that will ever be engraved in your soul.

He nods to you after sitting in this fixed position for a moment before he begins to suck in a breath. You mirror him directly, correspond with his inspirations and let your chest rise as you feel his do so beneath your palm. You’re doing well on that aspect, matching him breath for breath. It’s such an easy thing when your head’s above water, you wish it would translate just as well when it’s below.

“Okay,” Neteyam speaks up after a few minutes, “Now, try it with your head under.”

You’re a little apprehensive at the suggestion despite being at the shallow end of shore where you can simply stand up whenever you feel like it, and the trepidation must relay wholly on your face, because Neteyam squeezes the hand you still have placed to his chest.

“I’ll do it with you. It will be easy.”

“Ha, easy,” you mumble, let your eyes roll at his valor. Everything is just so easy for everyone else, isn’t it. “Right.”

But still, you find yourself taking in deeper breaths right along with him as you get ready to dip your head below the tide, trusting Neteyam with anything he extends to you. Because he’s never given you a reason not to, has he? He’s always made sure to do his best to keep you out of risky situations, or do everything he can to get you out of them when you found yourself to venture into one unknowingly.

You trust him because he’s proven to you over and over again that he’ll do nothing but look out for you, and a part of you thinks that’s a rather frightening prospect all on its own.

There’s a moment of shared eye contact, an understanding as each of you take one more breath, then you lower your head and allow yourself to be enveloped fully by the ocean. You’d think after diving and riding on the backs of ilus you’d feel more at ease already, have less anxiety about it all. But your chest still hurts just as much now as it ever has, and every second you spend below water has you reeling.

You know when it’s getting the best of you not by feeling it yourself, but by the tapping of Neteyam’s fingers against your chest as he points out your heart rate. It needs to be slow, you know this. It needs to match his, you’re aware.

But it’s hard. It’s hard for you to overcome this and no one seems to be getting that. It’s a feeling that closes in on you and suffocates you–literally and figuratively. You want to just get over it but you can’t. You can’t.

“I can’t do this,” you assert as you break out of the water with a sharp inhale and rise onto your feet. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Neteyam reaches for your arm as he stands up himself, water dripping down his face. “You can–“

“No I can’t, Neteyam!” You bite back. “You don’t understand, it’s too much. I can’t do it.”

Suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, turning you around and forcing you to meet his eyes. He holds you steady, keeps you rooted as you catch the breath you hadn’t even realized you were actually gasping for. The waves slosh against your legs and you focus on the pale green flecks in Neteyam’s irises in an attempt to calm yourself down. They remind you of the petals on the outlandish flowers from the forest; from home. Something about that helps to level you.

“You can,” he expounds, gives you no gateway to disagree. “You can do this. We can do this. Together.”

Together, he says. Hand in hand, step by step–he is always so insistent on it being together. So adamant that you are not set aside, left to your own devices in an off chance of.. what, exactly? Does he persist on such an ideal so one does not merely feel alone, or is it solely to put his own mind at ease, allow his own soul to rest easy at the proclamation.

Perhaps, you think, your father has done too well on pushing that morale onto his eldest son. Together, he inclines. Together, he reiterates. Like it’s vital you remember it, you embrace it, welcome it. Does he feel such a devotion to the cause for everyone? Or, you wonder..

Your breathing, slowly but surely, begins to settle into normal intakes once again. Your heart rate draws back on its racing in your chest. You let Neteyam’s hands slide from your shoulders to your palms, let him glide his fingertips over your own until he’s leading you back from the step away you had taken.

“One more try, alright?”

And as he pulls you down to where you’re seated once again with your chin being licked by the salty tide, you nod.

You trust him, and you try again.

After what you can only describe as endless hours of grueling water exposure training at the hands of an overtly cruel Neteyam (which really translates to just over an hour of him gently coaxing you to stay longer and longer underwater until you feel somewhat comfortable with the idea), you find yourself sitting with Tsireya along the shore.

She’s teaching you their sign language, the signals and gestures you’ll need to know in order to be able to communicate while underwater most effectively. You’d like to think of yourself as a relatively receptive person, but you must admit the whole learning a new language thing really proves itself to be considerably tricky.

Rotxo is a few yards away teaching the boys the signs. You aren’t sure if Neteyam proposed that idea just to watch Lo’ak suffer from not getting to be around Tsireya, or if it was because he actually wanted his younger brother to retain some real information instead of gawk, but a part of you is thankful for some form of girl time; even if it comes in the shape of a lesson.

The two of you are taking a break as you try to recall different signs on your own when you catch Tsireya staring at Lo’ak from afar. You’re partially thankful his back is to the two of you so you aren’t having to watch them drool back and forth, but you can’t lie and say that you don’t think it’s rather endearing that they’ve taken such an interest already.

“Lo’ak is sweet,” Tsireya says, out of the blue. And as you look over to her and catch her gaze, it almost appears as if she’s surprised herself at saying the thought out loud.

You smile warmly at her, because seeing her embarrassed is not something you’d really wish for. “Maybe to you,” you chuckle, shifting your regard down to the sand as you drag your finger through it. “He’s a pest.”

Her lips stretch widely at that, eyes crinkling gleefully at the corners. “In your eyes, I suppose I could see that.” Then she hums, looks to Lo’ak once more before directing her observance elsewhere. “He seems very curious. Willing to learn.”

Something churns in your gut. Guilt, maybe. Possibly conviction. You just nod your head at her statement.

“He’s willing to do a lot of things,” you abhor, though you don’t mean to sound so harsh. “He feels he doesn’t have a choice.” You lift your head to see the resignation on Tsireya’s face and instantly backpedal. “But with you it’s different. I can tell he likes learning all the things you teach us. You make him excited. To do things. You know.”

You hold your breath as you wait for her reaction and let it all whoosh out of you like a popped balloon when the smile cuts across her glowing face once more. When you notice the mood has once again lightened, you go back to drawing in the sand.

Tsireya hums again, and what leaves her saccharine lips next has you snapping your head up so fast you think you might have given yourself a mild case of whiplash.

“You think Neteyam is sweet, too. Do you not?”

You shift a little in the sand, crinkle your brows a bit at her statement. “I’m.. not sure what you mean.”

Neteyam is sweet, sure. He is nice, the most respectful Na’vi you know by a landslide. Sincere, bona fide; loyal through and through.

“Well, he has been helping you so frequently. Each time you are struggling he is always the first to step in, and you coordinate so well with one another. Harmonize so naturally. So I thought–“ As she takes in your confused expression, her eyes widen and she raises her hand to her mouth as if to stop herself. “Oh, I am so sorry, I seem to have misinterpreted. I didn’t mean to overstep, I–“

“It’s okay,” you wave her off, showcase an easy smile to put her worries to rest even as heat starts to pool into the apples of your cheeks. “Don’t even worry about it.”

She offers up an apologetic smile of her own before turning her attention back to the sand to draw another motion that you can add to your silent vocabulary, getting back to the lesson to steer from the awkwardness–a safe bet. But you find your eyes drifting over to the boy who’s just been brought into question.

Neteyam has always been in your corner, by your side, just as you’ve been with him. He has always been your favorite person to be around, that you are willing to admit readily. That is something easy to confirm the sentiment of.

But as he catches you staring, flashes you a lopsided grin before he’s getting scolded to focus by Rotxo, something new flips in your gut that you try your very best to ignore.

Something rippling.

When you want to clear your head, you always find yourself going directly to Kiri.

It doesn’t even need to involve talking or venting to her about what has you on edge (though both of you do your fair share of that, as well), but simply being in her presence has a way of putting you at ease. Relaxing your mind in a way that you will always welcome.

This time is no different. The two of you may not have your own secret hideout carved into the side of a hollow tree trunk anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find your own place here.

You’re on a semi-secluded strip of the beach. It’s calming, sitting in the water and letting it lap across your thighs and against your waist as you watch Kiri float near the surface. She likes it here, or at the very least likes seeing all the wonders the ocean can hold. It does your heart well, being able to witness her finding a bit of happiness, a morsel of contentment in a time such as this.

She’s probably the only one who you think matches your level of irritability about the situation you’ve all been thrown in, even if you haven’t directly voiced it. And you know very well she is the only one who comes even remotely close to feeling the heartache you harbor over the capture of your brother.

The two of you have always been easy to connect on things like that, and for that you are forever grateful. Besides, if you yourself cannot find comfort, you’re glad she seems to be able to seek it out wherever she goes, even if it’s for just a few moments.

Which is evidently all you’re destined for–a few moments–as drifting voices approach you that do not sound the least bit pleasant.

“What is she doing?” There’s laughs, snickers, and you shoot a look over your shoulder to see Ao’nung with his little group of cronies approaching the two of you. Distaste pools on the tip of your tongue, unease bubbling up your throat.

You keep your eyes on them as you try to warn your sister. “Kiri, get up.”

They’re closer now, practically standing over the top of you, their shadows dimming the warmth of the sun you were just enjoying in peace a moment ago. “She’s just looking at the sand,” one of them belittles, pokes fun. Your jaw clenches.

This time, you reach for Kiri as you address her, pull at her arm so she’s aware of what looms over her, because like hell are you going to let her sit here and be a victim to whatever immature charade these guys are playing at.

“Huh?” She asks as she raises up out of the water, wiping at her eyes and blinking to clear her vision. “What’d you say?”

You open your mouth to speak, tell her the two of you should just go find somewhere else to hang out, but you don’t get the chance to voice that.

“Are you some kind of..” Ao’nung falters, pretends to be thinking, then practically lets his intention drip off his tongue like venom. “Freak?”

And his friend doesn’t miss a beat, tittering as he joins in. “He asked if you are a freak.”

Pulling Kiri up as you stand yourself, a sneer carves its way into the mold of your lips. She scoffs lightly and rolls her eyes. “No,” she grumbles at the connotation, letting you lead her through a gap in the group to walk away.

But it seems all for naught, as they simply step right into your path once again to block you from going anywhere. You’re growing more and more irritated by the second because, honestly, if they can’t stand your family so much, why don’t they just leave you alone?

“Are you sure?” Ao’nung presses, getting right in her face. “I mean, you’re not even real Na’vi.” He grabs at her hands before she can move away, holds them disparagingly, a derisive expression painted across his features. “Look at these hands. I mean look at them.”

The hiss that shrieks through your fangs is instant as you step between them, pry Kiri’s hands out of his slimy grasp and try your hardest to halfway shield her behind you. (Not that that is really an exceedent help, given you’re currently surrounded). Spewing sordid insults out at you and your family is one thing, though you want to wring his scaly little neck for that alone, but physically laying his hands on your sister?

You’ve done your best to try to keep peace, be good for your parents’ sake–bite your tongue and fold your hands like a proper daughter should. But you think you might be reaching your limit.

You’re about to attempt to brush past them one last time–your last stitch effort to break away from this idiotic ambush once and for all to get you and your sister some privacy, but something jerks at you. There are hands wrapped around your tail, tugging at it as guffaws sound around you, like it’s all just some kind of game. You realize to them, it is.

“Ha! Look at her little baby tail.”

“Get your hands off of me,” you bark at the culprit, shove at him and yank your tail out of his grasp. It isn’t a pleasant feeling, being prodded like this, being goaded. It feels invasive, violating. You hate this so much and you just want them to leave you alone.

You don’t understand their wish for a feud when a feud is the last thing you and your family want. Bickering and fighting and being at odds will solve nothing. In fact, all it will do is get you in trouble during the one time where you’re already walking on eggshells every single day as is. Do they not understand how hard this is on your family? Do they not care?

Is belligerence the only thing they are capable of?

“Hey!” It’s Lo’ak, who tears the scrutiny off you and your sister as he strides over, right up to Ao’nung in order to get him away from the both of you. “Back off fish legs.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, levels your brother with a look. “Another four fingered freak.”

His friends push and jab at him, causing him to wheel in all directions to shove them away too. “Don’t touch me,” he warns, wavers. You’re so over this.

Kiri arbitrates, but they don’t listen. “Leave us alone.” It falls on deaf ears.

“Get away from us!” you call out; more forward, less refined. You figure you can leave the diplomacy to your sister, since you find it hard not to be blunt in situations such as this where the offending party can’t seem to get the hint through their overly thick skulls.

You’re still doing your best to shield Kiri with an arm out in front of her–in any other situation you might have laughed at how you’re currently standing like your mother. Now though, nothing about this is funny. Just as you’re about to reach for Lo’ak in an attempt to get him away from their bullying too, Neteyam comes to the scene.

He looks pissed, braids swinging with every stomp of his feet as he stalks up and abruptly shoves Ao’nung back away from the three of you. “You heard what they said. Leave them alone,” he snaps before he’s getting closer, finger pointed at Ao’nung threateningly enough it even has you on edge. He pokes him in the chest, punctuates his demands. “Back. Off. Now.”

The air turns static, and to your surprise, Ao’nung listens. He holds his hands up in faux style surrender, and though he still has a mocking look on his face, it is clear he’s heeding directly to Neteyam’s commands. A part of you wonders if it’s simply because Neteyam is the oldest, if he chooses to resonate with him on that because he used to once be an heir himself. But mostly you think it’s just because Ao’nung is actually scared shitless of him, which you find twice as enjoyable.

“Smart choice,” Neteyam acknowledges as the chief’s son takes a step back, sends a warning look across the entire group. “And from now on, I need you to respect my family.”

One of Ao’nung’s friends hisses before getting signaled back by the former. You roll your eyes at the shrill and Kiri sticks out tongue.

“Let’s go,” Neteyam mutters, redirects Lo’ak with a hand to the head and Kiri with a nudge to the shoulders.

You can still hear them all behind you, snickering to themselves and making demeaning comments about the lot of you as Neteyam places his hand on your back to guide you away with the rest of them. You’re more than willing to just drop it, ignore them and swallow down the hurt their words and actions caused like you have always done, like it was nothing more than a bite of tart fruit. Just another tally to the list of your flaws.

But Lo’ak seems to not share that mindset with you.

His faltering to a stop has you doing the same, turning your attention to him and attempting to step over and reach for his arm to continue tugging him along. Before you can, though, he’s already turning right around. Walking right back to the group you were just saved from.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam calls after him, his tone dripping in apprehension.

Lo’ak raises a calming hand to the three of you. “I got this, bro,” he reassures, but it does nothing to ease the pins and needles you suddenly feel in the soles of your feet. He steps right up to Ao’nung and holds up his hand, like he’s putting it on display. “I know this hand is funny. Look, I’m a freak. Alien.”

The group laughs under their breaths at him, sharing judging looks with each other. You don’t understand why you have such an odd feeling about this, and you have no idea what he’s getting at by subjecting himself to it.

“But it can do something really cool. Watch,” he instructs, and to your surprise Ao’nung actually has his full attention on your brother’s hand. “First, I ball it up real tight like this, okay? Then–”

In the split second that you blink, there’s a crack, a grunt. Your mouth drops open as you see Lo’ak’s fist come in contact directly with Ao’nung’s face. But it isn’t just once, or twice. Lo’ak gets three solid hits in before Ao’nung falls back on his ass into the water.

“It’s called a punch, bitch!” Lo’ak spits. “Don’t ever touch my sisters again.”

After that, all hell breaks loose. Ao’nung surges forward and tackles Lo’ak to the ground. They immediately start scrapping, throwing each other on and off and swinging at whatever they can get into contact with. The other boys jump in, all target locked on your brother. You’re contemplating stepping in and breaking it up somehow.

You look to Neteyam to see if he’s thinking the same, if he’s running through ways to possibly diffuse the situation as well. But as soon as you glance up and catch sight of the fed up slant to his lips, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, your stomach drops.

“Neteyam don’t,” you plead, attempting to pull him back to stop him but he just barely weasels out of your grasp. Voice straining with frustration, you shout after him. “Neteyam!”

He throws himself into the fight head on, socking the first guy who tries to come at him and instantly kneeing the next. Your hands fly to your face, dragging down it as you think to yourself that this literally cannot possibly be happening right now. Stupid, stupid boys.

“Stop it,” Kiri groans at your side, “Stop it! You’re so stupid.”

“This is so childish!” You yell, too–reiterating her point. “You’re all gonna get in trouble.”

The pair of you watch, exasperated. There’s nothing you can do (because you sure as hell aren’t jumping in the middle of that just to get a black eye) so you turn to your sister. You stare at each other for a moment, hear the cries and complaints of your brother and his rivals, and suddenly laughs are bubbling out of each of your lips at the bewilderment of it all.

The two of you simply stand there and wait, snickering at the idiotic display while you wait for the trouble you warned them of to inevitably come.

And come the trouble does.

You follow at a safe distance as Jake ushers his two slightly beaten and busted up sons to your family’s home. He shoves them inside and you wait outside, leaning against the side of the hut just out of sight as you listen in. You hear him begin to scold them, ask them what his one wish was on the matter of coming here.

Guilt pools deep in your gut as most of the heat is directed to Lo’ak, despite Neteyam’s (unsuccessful) effort to take the blame off his brother’s shoulders. You listen as your brother justifies himself, tells Jake he was simply standing up for you and Kiri, explains what Ao’nung and his friends were saying about you.

Irritation seeps into your skin when you hear your father tell him to go apologize. You don’t think it’s fair–he did nothing wrong, he isn’t the one at fault here. If anything, Ao’nung should be apologizing to him, not the other way around. You watch as Lo’ak storms out of the hut, sparing you a glimpse as he passes, but offering nothing else. You want to apologize to him, you can’t help but feel he deserves that. But you have a bone to pick first.

Neteyam’s footsteps sound close to the exit, so you get ready to move. Before he steps out, though, your father stops him. “Hey,” and it’s softer, than his tone was just moments ago, “So, what’d the other guys look like?”

You want to scoff at the question. Or maybe the audacity of it, given the circumstances.

“Worse,” Neteyam answers him quietly, truthfully.

There’s a pause. You can’t see your father’s face but you can imagine the look he’s giving right now. “That’s good,” he affirms.

Neteyam seems to pick up on the approval in his timbre, because you hear a breathy laugh from him before he adds, “A lot worse.”

He’s told to get out at that, Jake’s way of telling him not to push his luck, if you had to guess. He seems so preoccupied that he doesn’t even register you standing by the entrance, walking right past you. So, you take quick steps forward to follow him.

“A lot worse,” you copy him, hoping the mockery comes across as heavy as you want it to. His focus flits to you, eyes a little wide as if you caught him the slightest bit off guard. You couldn’t care less about that. “Do you know how dumb that sounds?”

“What?” he asks, stops walking to face you as his brows (or the shape of what brows would be) knead together. “What do you mean?”

Conflicted, that’s how you’d describe yourself right now. Maybe it’s because you’re still cut open from what Ao’nung and his friends had said, maybe it’s the guilt eating away at you from indirectly being the reason Lo’ak has to apologize to them. Whatever it is, it has you acting a little arbitrary.

“You shouldn’t have jumped in the fight, Neteyam,” you state–scold, in a haphazard sense. And it’s something you’d feel the need to say even without being at war with yourself. “It was stupid.”

“Stupid?” He levels you with a look, disbelieving, almost. You don’t like the way it makes you feel. “I was standing up for my family. For you.”

“I can stand up for myself,” you retort, and it tastes bitter on your tongue. This wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to shift, you weren’t meaning to sound so vindictive. You blow out a breath. “Besides, it’s not like I’m not used to it. I can handle it.”

And Neteyam, despite your enmity, drops every bit of his guard. “But you shouldn’t–”

“It’s fine,” you intervene before he can finish, because pity is not what you were trying to get out of this. You just want him to be aware, that he doesn’t have to fight and get himself in trouble for the sake of you. Studying his face for a moment, you sigh. “Anyways, you should probably go get something for your lip.”

Before he can say anything else you avert your eyes and walk off, mind already reeling.

Your fingers hurt.

This has taken you far longer than you thought it would and you’re thankful you’re on the last bead because the sun is merely a sliver over the horizon now, meaning you’re running out of light to see since your foolish self did not bring a source with you. Something about the sea beads on hand here feel different to work with compared to the wooden ones you’re used to. The change in texture is obvious, but it’s like using these is more taxing than the ones from home. You’re grateful to Tsireya for giving them to you, yet you still wish you had packed some before you’d left. It’s too late to have remorse over something like that, though, so you push the thought from your mind.

There is one thought that you can’t seem to shake, however.

Guilt has a funny way of trying to swallow you whole. It has you locked in its jaws even now, as you tie off the piece you are creating and hold it up to admire your handiwork. The very cause for the making of this necklace in the first place is guilt, followed ever so closely by gratitude. You hope it conveys that, proves to mean that much when it’s out of your hands and in the ones of whom it’s intended to belong.

It’s a highly acknowledged value in Na’vi culture that making one's own jewelry and clothing, or gifting such things to others directly, is an.. intimate gesture. Not necessarily in the definitive sense, but more so in the meaning that it is just not something one takes lightly, not a sentiment meant to be discarded.

You must respect the things people gift unto you that they have made with their own hands; may Eywa bless their labor. Neytiri taught you that when you were young, when she gave you your first bracelet. You still have it, even now, because such a thing does not leave you in your first lifetime or the next. Hope creeps into your bones that it holds up for you now.

A light sweeps over you from behind, a narrow beam that has you squinting as you look over your shoulder. The only people here who would have a flashlight would be your family, and given the lack of taunting or lecturing accompanying it, there’s just one person who it could be.

“Should you have that? You’d get in trouble if you got caught, you know,” you tell him as you turn back around, stare at the star sprinkled ocean.

“Ah, srankehe,” [“more or less”] Neteyam waves off as he sits down about a foot away from you. You can feel his eyes on you, hear the smile in his voice. “How much more trouble could I get in after today?”

“Right,” you respond with a ghost of a chuckle. You turn to him, peer at him through the blanketed dark. “How’s your lip?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” His tone takes a dip, and for a second you grow concerned. “They said I have to get them cut off, they’re unsalvageable. Yes, completely busted up to shreds. Shame.”

Every drop of worry rushes out of your body instantly and you reach across the small distance separating the two of you. He laughs as you shove him, flashes the light in your face as a little bit of payback. Then, the light drifts over your hand, goes back and does a double sweep, only stopping once it’s pointed directly on what you almost forgot you were still holding in it.

“What’s this?” Neteyam asks, immediately scooting closer and cautiously reaching for the necklace. He holds it in his hand so delicately, runs his fingers over the beads like it’s the most fragile thing he’s ever seen. “Did you make this?”

The building anxiety becomes just a smidgen too much as he looks over at you, so you turn your attention down to the beaded item in his hand.

“Yeah,” you nod, bite the inside of your cheek as you brush your finger against the accent shell you placed in the middle. “Yeah, it’s for you.”

That seems to take him aback, has him pausing for a moment. “You made it for me?”

You nod again. Your tongue suddenly feels like lead in the bottom of your mouth. You feel stupid, this seems silly. Part of you wants to yank it out of his hands and yell just kidding! before you risk embarrassing yourself within the next few moments. You try to choose your words wisely.

“I wanted to say sorry, for earlier. I shouldn’t have told you not to fight, that’s not my place. And I really am grateful for you standing up for me. I just.. I don’t want you getting scolded because of me. I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble. So, I’m sorry, Neteyam. Ngaytxoa.” [“My deepest apologies.”]

He’s looking at you again, you can tell. There’s an odd bevel in his tone when he queries, “So you made this as an apology? Because you feel guilty?”

“Yes,” you confirm, verify as you find the courage to meet his gaze, but you redial too, “Well, and as a thank you.”

“A thank you?” He tips his head like he’s truly perplexed, and you wonder how he doesn’t already know why you’re grateful for him, why you’ve used every ounce of your appreciation in the fashioning of this lavalliere.

“You deserve one.” A knot slides up into your throat, chokes you up as you address him now. You do your best to work past it. “You’ve helped me through so much since coming here. You’ve been patient with me and–and you’ve stepped in whenever I needed you. You’ve done everything you can to help me. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am for that. How grateful I am for you.”

That last part slips out of you before you can think much about it, but once it rolls off your tongue you can’t help but realize just how true it is. You are exceedingly thankful for Neteyam not just for what he’s done, but for who he is. Your heart holds a permanent room for him, and you think he has the right to know that.

For a few painstaking moments, Netayam just looks at you. Like he’s mulling over everything you’ve just said, like he’s processing it to the utmost ability. You’re almost on the verge of regret, thinking maybe you’ve crossed some line drawn in the sand that you were not previously aware of. That is, until there’s a twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Do I have to put it on myself?”

The smile that starts to mirror from his face to yours is inevitable, but you hook your fang on the corner of your lip in a sorry attempt to not beam so widely anyways. You raise onto your knees as you take the necklace from him, to make it easier to face him. Neteyam’s eyes never leave your face as you focus on gently looping the necklace over his head. Once it’s on, you slide your fingers behind his neck–delicately, carefully–lifting his braids out of the way so that it can fall properly into place. You’re slow on pulling away, drifting your fingers down the slick, sea glass beadwork until they find the middle shell. You take this time to straighten it, make sure it’s laying properly against his chest.

Just as you go to pull your hands away, Neteyam’s own come up to keep them held to his chest. Your gaze flits up, dares to meet his. On your knees like this you’re looking down on him, an occurrence that usually is the other way around. His eyes are glistening, shining. There are constellations illuminated across his cheeks, his nose. You think you’d like to map them.

“Irayo fìxtan,” [“Thank you so much.”] he murmurs, soft and low as his thumb rubs over your knuckles. His expression is so warm, so earnest. It suddenly feels very hard to breathe, and that feeling from before, when you were with Tsireya, is happening again. “Irayo fìxtan, Ma (Y/n).”

There’s a shift, a tilt of an axis. Something changes, in this very moment; something far from trivial but so close to uncharted. It is unknown to you what this all means, what this entails.

What changes?

You open your mouth to speak, but even you aren’t sure what you will say. Part of you wants to change the subject, nerves tend to plague you and make you want to veer from such things, but the rest of you, well. You think you might have truly settled on something to say, something to voice, now.

But someone’s hesitant footsteps approaching has your attention faltering, causes you to look to your left where you find Ao’nung walking up with a look on his face that has your stomach twisting. And when you thought that was bad enough, the words that leave his lips make you forget anything you were planning to mutter.

“There’s a problem.. with Lo’ak.”

[serpentface]

Does Tigran pull his weight in the trio or does he delegate all the bitch work to Palo?

Either way, I don't see Couya doing anything that doesn't involve shooting a hole into someone or something

Oh yeah you got the gist of it, Tigran has been basically assigned as Palo's mentor in spite of being a good deal younger and dumber than him (as he has been a galenii monk since childhood, and Palo was initiated recently and as an adult). Being placed as a mentor is basically the first position of power he has had in his entire life and he's very eager to exert it.

Palo isn't a pushover and is very resentful of being lorded over (especially given his former high social status), and Tigran's power is very limited (while he is a mentor he doesn't actually Outrank him) so he can't actually force him into all the bitch work and they ultimately both have to pull their weight. It ends up mostly being a lot of whinging (ie "When I was an initiate I had to haul shields behind marching soldiers for 50 miles uphill BOTH WAYS, and here you are complaining that I won't help you fetch water, in my darkest hour, when my ankle is so sore, possibly sprained...").

Palo is also dealing with the trauma of recently being made a eunuch (technically willingly, but as a lesser of two bad options), and part of it manifests in coping with like 'at least I'm not like him' (Tigran was castrated before puberty, him being a eunuch is more immediately apparent and he is more heavily Othered in this society) and Tigran turns it around on him and plays on his insecurities like "Oh if I'm so weak and effeminate surely you're much more capable than me? Surely you don't need a prissy little gelding to do your work for you?". They're both assholes but Tigran is more manipulative about it.

These guys never have a beautiful loving friendship but they go through a lot of shit together and do eventually gain a great deal of respect for one another and a lot of these behaviors are diminished (instead of throwing each other under the bus, they find OTHER PEOPLE to throw under the bus!).

Couya is actually very eager to do certain tasks that would not be expected of a woman of her stature and to put on an air of self sufficiency (partly out of disdain for her own family, she sees her siblings as coddled and weak), but still is utterly of her upper class upbringing and delegates any work she sees as specifically Beneath her to whoever ranks lowest in her command, which is Tigran and Palo for a very long stretch. This gets worse the more convinced she is that she is God's chosen, and starts treating the two of them like Acolytes instead of their actual role as attendants.

Also: Premise of the story below the cut for anyone unfamiliar because it's been a while

A devastating multi year drought hits the lands of Wardin coincidentally after the previous Odomache was murdered, it's determined that the face of God incarnate being so defiled is the cause, the world might be ending, and that this must be rectified via a reenactment of creation via the sacrifice of 7 great beasts and a new Odomache being crowned. A bunch of monks, priestesses, and soldiers go on a massive pilgrimage to the believed site of creation to Do That. This is framed as a quest to Save The World but it is ultimately highly political imperial maneuvering.

Tigran and Palo (galenii monks) and Couya (odonii priestess) are assigned stewardship of the sacrificial white calf and travel together. Couya believes she is God's chosen and is on a warpath for apotheosis, Tigran and Palo just want to like, not die. The three get separated from their entourage for a while, shenanigans ensue, etc)

[edgessunflower]

Hi, I got a request if you're willing to write.

Jason with a touch starved, maltreated fem!s/o. I'm thinking: she crave his touch but at the same time, the smallest of it makes her tremble and her mind spinning back to past violence against her. All in all he's just trying to patient with her (but it;s still Jace with the hell of his own traumatic past experience and a bit of anger issues, so .....) Make it whatever you want, fluff, angst, I'm taking everything from you).

TY :)

Omg of course he deserves better 🥹

I understand you

Pairing:Jason Todd x Fem reader

Description:You and Jason fall in love while dealing with your past traumas together

You felt at peace for the first time in your life laying in bed with Jason's arms wrapped around you feeling safe for once in your life. You had been through a lot in life from growing up in a very poor family, being homeless for most of your life, raising three of your younger siblings, and ending up with Fibromyalgia at 15 didn't help what you had been through and trying to slowly get on your feet away from your family. Jason related to that not really having anyone losing his parents, technically dying by the joker, having multiple near death experiences, and not really trusting anyone at all until he met you and wanted to trust you while gaining your trust. Over time you became one of the few people he trusted other than his friends Kori and Roy who he truly trusted with his life and he treated you the same as them.but he felt different about you over time and knew he was in love hoping you felt the same. He noticed that when he touched you even accidentally you would jump and flinch which he knew was from your past traumas so he always tried to make sure not to touch you a lot or in a way that made you feel scared but overtime you slowly felt safe and truly loved for once in your life and the two of you slowly took the walls down. The two of you were watching movies sharing a kiss that soon led to being lifted in his arms, going in the bedroom, hands roaming and touching, mouths caressing and kissing, and lots of different words being said that were never said before "I understand you...I love you much" soon the both of you were molded together under the covers asleep. Coming back out of your thoughts you smile at the events from hours ago as you turn laying your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso while he gently squeezes you to him in his sleep smiling as you fall back asleep feeling the safest and cared for than you have ever been.

[hermannsthumb]

omg could we see #62 from the winter prompts list?

62. you’re my college roommate’s sibling/best friend and you’ve come to visit for a week since you’re done school but unlike some people, I have three more finals to study for so kindly fuck off

from winter writing prompts here

stuck on some of my other wips so i'm digging back through my old unfilled winter prompts!! from. well. 2018. can you believe i've been writing fic this long. insane.

enjoy some dumb (sort of?) college boys newmann! I decided to cheat with the prompt a little (a lot) so I could work it to be conceivably not an AU but instead set pre-canon, though I realize it techhhhnically screws around with the newt/herm penpal backstory just a tiny little bit....

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To be honest Newt’s probably paying more for year-round university housing then he would be in rent at an actual apartment at this point, but details like that get a little screwy when you start college significantly before your eighteenth birthday and grow up on campus. His dorm holds more sentimental value than his childhood home at this point. I mean, it technically is his childhood home. Newt did try the spring of his twenty-first birthday to finally move out, but he spent exactly two minutes poking through a Cambridge housing group on Facebook before it made him want to die and he gave up. At least this way he doesn't have to buy new furniture.

He has enough good will left with administration despite all the shit he's pulled to leverage certain things like that in his favor, and he struck a deal to keep his dorm in exchange for letting campus housing utilize it as an actual dorm from time to time. (Which is to say, Newt is kind of broke and needs to save money from his stipend every now and then for, you know, groceries, so he can grit his teeth and deal with a roommate when the time comes.)

His roommate at the moment is a German exchange student (maybe one or two years younger than Newt) who’s currently enrolled in a year-long study abroad program to mess around with electrical engineering—interesting enough guy with just enough neuroses and weird family issues to make Newt feel like the most well-adjusted twentysomething in the world. It's a great ego boost.

Anyway, it’s convenient. There are like three Dunks of varying quality to choose from at any given moment, and Newt only has to walk ten minutes max to any lecture hall to give class. This is especially nice on stupidly cold and snowy days like today where even a ten minute walk feels like too much.

The door to Newt’s dorm is slightly ajar when he finally gets home. In normal circumstances this would make Newt pause and think for a few seconds before stomping inside—rules of horror movies or whatever—because if his roommate is anything, it’s particular with things like that. Shoes off at the door, dishes left in the sink on a firm one-day-max limit, doors very much locked when they leave to protect all their super important possessions from being stolen, like the refurbished Playstation 2 Newt got off eBay or the Brita filter Newt also got off eBay. Very luxurious stuff.

But Newt’s cold and hungry, so he stomps inside anyway. He does kick his boots off, though—just because some people decided to stop following the dorm rules doesn’t mean Newt will—and makes sure to click the door shut behind him carefully. “Hey, dude, you home?” he calls down the hallway. Nothing. His roommate, Bastien, is usually in class at this time of the day, but finals have turned their schedules upside down, so who knows. He wiggles out of his winter coat and hangs it next to an unfamiliar green parka on the wall hooks (maybe Bastien went on a shopping spree?) and tries a second time. “Uh, you know you left the door open?”

Newt's glasses are splattered with melted snow, and he dries them on the hem of his sweater as he fumbles with the door to their room—and is more than a little surprised when he sees the blurry shape of Bastien sitting primly on the edge of his bed, smoothing out his clothing like he’s just woken up from a nap. His bed as in Newt’s bed. Newt startles backwards. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Hey?” Has he fucked up? Are they having a roommate talk about something? …Preceded by Bastien inexplicably taking a nap in his bed?

He pushes his glasses back on. The dark-haired blur on his bed comes into focus, and though the sharp angles, bad haircut, and vaguely sickly pale flush are reminiscent of Newt’s roommate, everything else about him is different, from the brown eyes to the wide frown. It’s a Gottlieb, no question, but which one Newt’s not sure. He knows there are at least three more of them, a concept which has always struck fear into Newt’s heart each time Bastien alludes to having siblings. “Hello,” the guy on Newt’s bed says. He nods. Very proper. “You’re Newton.”

“…Yeah?” Newt says.

The mysterious Gottlieb is kind of hot, which is the worst part. The whole stern professor look he’s rocking—big glasses, knit sweatervest, slightly too-big loafers—is doing him plenty of favors. Normal circumstances, Newt thinks again, coming home to a hot nerd lounging in your bed? It might almost make him believe in a higher power. It’s taking a significant amount of effort to not start flirting. Then again, he is in Newt's bed, and has been clearly been sleeping in Newt's bed, which feels like a flirtation in and of itself.

“Hermann Gottlieb,” the professor-dude says. He gets to his feet with the aid of a cane, which he’d hooked on one of Newt’s bedposts and offers a hand out to Newt like they’re both eighty years old. Mildly bewildered, Newt takes it. He's treated to a firm handshake. “I assume my brother told you to expect me? I let myself in. I hope that’s not too rude of me, but it was rather cold out.”

“Uh,” Newt says again. He’s a lot more…British than Newt expected. Very posh BBC-miniseries about posh English people with large country estates. Especially compared to Bastien, whose first language is clearly German and is very much not British—it’s just not exactly what Newt was expecting. “I mean—he didn’t totally tell me you were coming. Or, at all.” Hermann drops his hand. “I guess he could’ve mentioned it and I just forgot.” This is probably what happened. Newt’s been a little busy lately.

He decides to address the elephant in the room next, the bed thing, and determine if it was a deliberate choice or not. Maybe Bastien has made Newt out to be so irresistible in whatever he’s reported back to the Gottlieb family that Hermann decided to try his luck. This is definitely not the case, but Newt can pretend. “You’re on my bed,” he continues, and points across the room. “Bastien’s is that one.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. He looks mortified in a properly stiff-lipped way and almost trips over himself to cross the tiny dorm room, and for a split second Newt sees a different Hermann behind the dress shoes and exaggerated formalities: an awkward twentysomething probably barely older than Newt playing dress-up to be taken seriously. The belt he’s cinched to the last notch around the oversized waist of his tweed pants is stiff and cracked in places. Bastien mentioned once that one of his brothers is a math whiz who’s followed an accelerated academic path not entirely unlike Newt’s, and Newt suddenly has a strong hunch he’s looking right at him. “I’m—I’m very sorry. I didn’t realize. My flight only just got in, and the time zones—I was a bit tired.”

“No worries, man,” Newt says. He tosses his tote bag onto the Hermann-sized indentation in his bedspread and kicks his docs off one at a time, while across the room Hermann twists the handle of his cane between his hands. “You want some coffee or something? Bastien is usually out until late on Thursdays, so it might just be us for a while, sorry.” He pulls the sweatshirt he’d slung on his desk chair that morning down over his head and straightens out his glasses.

The offer for coffee is a somewhat-pitying lifeline Newt is decent enough to throw out, which he has a feeling both of them understand. Hermann seizes it desperately. “Coffee would be nice,” he says.

He trails after Newt into the kitchen. Apartment-style or not, it’s still a campus dorm, and the kitchen space is cozy at best and cramped at worst. Hermann plasters himself against a row of cabinets in a heroic effort to stay out of Newt’s way as Newt dumps some coffee grounds and water into his cheap pot and digs two mugs out of the cupboard. They avoid making eye contact at all costs while it percolates. “We have, like,” Newt gestures vaguely at the doorway, “a couch? If you wanted to sit? And not stand here?”

“I don’t mind,” Hermann says.

Newt kind of minds, but whatever, he can deal. He pours soy milk into one mug in preparation and offers some to Hermann, who shakes his head. The coffee drips slowly into the pot. Newt thinks about the stack of ungraded finals tucked into a binder in his tote bag, the other stack waiting on his desk, and the final final he still has to proofread and send off to Copytech for, like, seventy copies by tomorrow. “So, Hermann,” Newt says, and tries to think of a polite way to ask why exactly are you in my apartment during finals week? Does the guy not also have finals in England or wherever? “Are you just visiting your bro for fun, or…?”

Hermann’s face twists with a sour expression. “For a week,” he says. “Not all that willingly. I’m in town for a conference and I won’t have my hotel room until tomorrow morning. Bastien offered to let me use his couch for the night.” He adds hesitantly, “I’m due to give a presentation on Tuesday.”

A lecture: almost definitely the math whiz, then, unless overachieving is a family trait. Newt will circle back to that later. He’s not exactly a math expert, but you kinda can’t really pick up that many STEM doctorates without having at least a basic (or, you know, decently advanced) understanding of, uh, everything about math, and he’s keen to hear what Hermann plans to lecture on. “I’ll try to stay out of your hair,” Hermann adds quickly. “I know you’re busy with final exams and whatnot.”

“Ugh, no kidding,” Newt says. The coffee finally finishes with a few rattling huffs, and Newt carefully pours it into their mugs and shoves the less-chipped one over to Hermann. “I still have another left to go,” he continues. “I got stuck with three whole sections this semester, it sucks. I think they just wanted to get back at me for—well, um, I caused a minor fire in the lab last year and they had to evacuate a few buildings, and I put it out right away because I'm the king of lab safety, but whatever, everyone lost their shit anyway. It’s going to take me forever to grade everything.”

Hermann frowns at him, and Newt wonders exactly how much Bastien has shared about his American roommate—or in this case how little. “Not a student,” he explains. “Dr. Geiszler, technically, but do not call me that. I managed to convince the biology department head to convince student life to let me keep living on campus after I—well, I guess I technically graduated undergrad a while ago. After I wrapped up my first PhD?”

“Ah,” Hermann says, and the edges of his sharp cheekbones going the faintest shade of pink. “I’d assumed—Bastien didn’t mention that, is all.” His eyes flick over Newt twice, scrutinizing him and lingering on his oversized hoodie, a DIY screen-print job bearing the latest logo for Newt’s band that he tried valiantly to sell at their last show. “First PhD? Exactly how old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” Newt says. “I skipped a grade. Or ten. Would not recommend it. Anyway, Hermann, you’re some sort of super-genius, right? You were doing calculus in your crib or something?”

If Newt’s right about which brother Hermann is, that means—compared to the rest of his family—Bastien has alluded to Hermann’s existence in all but name three whole times. By familial standards Newt can only assume that means they’re practically BFFs and probably send each other birthday cards every year. If possible Hermann might be even more reserved than Bastien, though, and it’s making Newt want very badly to prod him a little more just to see what happens. Get him to poke his head out of his shell or something. “That’s pretty impressive, you know,” he adds.

Hermann flushes pink for real this time, obviously pleased with the compliment, and Newt’s equally pleased to see him hold his head a little higher. They’re getting somewhere. “It’s not precisely that dramatic,” Hermann says. “But, yes, er—I started university at a rather young age. Comparatively. Before that, my father sent me abroad when I was eight for my schooling. I’d shown a knack, I suppose, for mathematics, and…”

Abroad—Newt guesses that explains the different accent. Not unlike Newt himself. He wonders if Hermann’s family ribs him for the lapses in his German the way Newt’s family does (America is rotting your brain, Newt!), though maybe somewhat less gently. “And?”

“I’ll finish my doctorate in the spring,” Hermann finishes, with a small smile.

“Dr. Gottlieb,” Newt says. “Nice. I like the sound of that.”

Hermann suddenly spills a large amount of coffee down the front of his sweater. He doesn’t seem to notice, though his ears (which stick out just a little) do go red, so Newt doesn’t say anything.

It’s unfortunate how cute Hermann is. Newt briefly debates the ethics of hitting on your roommate’s hot British brother and whether or not it breaches some sort of sacred roommate code. On the one hand, Hermann is only here for a week, so it’s not like they can get up to too much, and Bastien himself will be packing everything back up for Germany in like, six months tops when his study abroad program ends in the spring anyway. And besides, it’s not like Newt and Bastien are tight or anything like that. On the other hand—I mean, that would be weird, right? You can’t just hit on your roommate’s hot British brother, especially not when he's sleeping on your couch for the night.

Newt has over a hundred final exams to grade, and a suitcase to pack for his own trip (albeit one that’s a maybe-thirty minute ride on the commuter rail) out to his dad’s for the break. He kinda wants to hit on Hermann.

He’s going to hit on Hermann.

“Sooooo,” he begins, “you got any plans, or—?”

And it’s then that Hermann’s cell phone begins to buzz in his pocket. “Ah,” Hermann says. “One moment—apologies.” He pulls out a battered flip phone that looks like it’s been passed down from at least two other people and squints at the screen. “My brother,” he explains, “at last. He’s finishing up at the library and wants to meet for dinner.”

“Oh, right,” Newt says. “Of course. Duh.”

Hermann closes his phone slowly and hazards a small, but considering, glance at Newt, and Newt has a fleeting suspicion he’s not the only one weighing the pros and cons of risky flirting. He might just be flattering himself, though. “…Would you like to join us?” Hermann says. “I’m sure Bastien wouldn’t mind. It might be…” He works his jaw a few times. It’s incredibly cute. He’s clean-shaven in a way Newt hasn’t managed to be since he turned seventeen (the Geiszlerian curse of thick facial hair whether you want it or not), and it makes him look even more like a weird kid trying very hard to be an adult. “Fun.”

It's a bad idea. Hermann’s only here for a week, and he’ll clearly be busy with his conference and his big talk and all that, and then they’ll be back on opposite sides of the Atlantic probably forever—Newt would just be setting himself up for heartbreak. And six months of awkwardly dodging his roommate, which is possibly worse. Ugh. Being responsible sucks. “I shouldn’t,” he finally sighs. “I have to finish—”

“—your finals. Of course,” Hermann says. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll let you be.” He sets his mug on the counter by the sink. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Sure, dude,” Newt says.

Hermann works his jaw again, chewing at his lower lip, and then says so quickly Newt almost misses it “If you’re around next Tuesday, perhaps you would like to see my talk?”

Newt tries very hard to be chill. “Yeah, totally,” he says. “That would be awesome. I think I can make it.”

Hermann nods solemnly. “Excellent. I’ll ask Bastien to give you the details later.”

He finally begins to dot at the coffee stain on his sweater with a handkerchief he pulls from a different pocket, and Newt squeezes past him to rinse their mugs out. (No dishes in the sink overnight.) His elbow brushes against Hermann’s as he dries them with a dishtowel. Hermann makes no effort to move away from him, and this close he smells like stale cigarette smoke. Newt can imagine him standing out in the rain in a dreary English landscape somewhere, maybe in the oversized coat he saw hanging by the door, scowling and crushing cigarette filters beneath his cane.

There’s something strangely magnetic about Hermann.

“Hey, listen,” Newt says. He dries his hands off on his pants. Hermann looks at him, abandoning his efforts to clean himself up. “You wanna swap emails or anything…? Maybe we could talk. Collaborate on, uh, something.” He has absolutely zero idea of Hermann’s subfield so he doesn’t know exactly what they’ll collaborate on just yet, but he’ll think of something. Make some notes during the Tuesday lecture. Newt has three PhDs and counting, he can come up with an excuse to talk to a cute boy, okay, he’s not twelve. He’d ask for Hermann’s number like a normal human being if he could dream of affording the international texting rate.

Hermann gives him another stiff nod and the shadow of a smile, which Newt hopes means an enthusiastic yes, Newt, I’d love to be your penpal!, so Newt fishes a pad of paper and a pencil out from the kitchen junk drawer and they take turns printing their emails out as neatly as possible. Hermann folds the slip of paper with Newt’s in half and slips it into his top pocket. “It was very good to meet you, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann says, and he offers Newt a parting handshake.

What the hell, Newt thinks, and takes it.

It takes ten months and a split in reality at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean for Hermann to get around to emailing Newt. Newt expects they’ll have a lot to collaborate on in the near future.

[unnervinglyferal]

Hello !!

I saw a lot of people telling you that having two kids so close together was inherently a bad idea, so I just wanted to balance it and tell you from experience it isn't a done deal. My sister and I are one year apart almost exactly, and while it wasn't smooth sailing all the time (and our teenage years were probably nightmarish for our parents, though mostly because of my at-the-time undiagnosed mental health issues), I love her to death and would not trade her for the world. Obviously our situation was very different, our parents were in their early thirties with good finances, but I believe the most important thing in a child's life is stability and love. I absolutely loved being an older sister (still do but like I meant as a kid) and most of our fights stemed from jealousy over our different characters and talents, not our parents' attention (which was technically divided in four). I think that with you being a full time dad and your (soon to be) wife and you having a relatively good familial support she'd be able to have a good enough equilibrium to still go through gymnasium and university. On the other hand my mom will absolutely tell you that the jump from one to two kids is not double the work, it's three to four times the work, especially if the oldest isn't weaned or potty trained, and it will definitely strain your finances too.

Also I feel sorry for you, yeah most doctors are bad at really explaining sexual health and efficient contraception.

Whatever you end up doing I just hope you have the emotional support to feel safe and confident in your home !

Yeah, her family is prickly but they do offer a lot of support otherwise, my girlfriend had a hard time with them growing up since she was raised to be a people-pleaser and with these people you have to bite somebody every once in a while (not literally) to have your boundaries respected.

She is also the oldest daughter out of all her own siblings, but they are all several years younger than her. It's comforting to know that being the eldest at such short rate isn't inherently doomed.

[bitterkarmaa]

*KICKS DOWN YOUR DOOR* HI I HAVE MORE RAYS RAMBLES TO SHARE.

I hope i'm not bothering with more ramble because this boy gives me so many brain worms you have no idea- ANYWAY full disclaimer this is all headcanon i've got for him AND IF YOU DEEM IT NON-CANON THAT IS FINE 100% I AM FINE WITH IT! PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CORRECT ANY MISINTERPRETATIONS I'VE MADE!

SO-

I've made some slight hints toward it in my writing already and have only now worked up the courage to share it in full hjdkfg so- I'm kinda playing on a general DCA headcanon i have that DCA models mainly Sun and Moon ones need counterparts in order to basically function. Because that is how they were designed, two halves of a whole that were made to exist together.

So a Sun needs their Moon and a Moon their Sun. Or a Moon their Moon or a Sun their Sun. Eclipse's included! The main point is there's gotta be two (or more) DCA models who are 'imprinted' or 'bonded' in order to properly function (Ruin would be mostly exempt ofc due to the two being one)

NOW WHERE DOES RAYS COME INTO PLAY HERE? So as i rambled about on A03 in the comments of Canary and Crow, i had a headcanon that Rays had 'imprinted' onto Lord Eclipse because, he is technically a Sun who lost his counterpart, that being Moon. So baby Rays, fresh and new sees Eclipse - possibly still a DCA model himself before changing his form - and automatically imprints onto him!

And this ends up carrying over to KB Eclipse and again, possibly Veil too because they are both of the same/similar ai that Rays own code has logged as being his natural other half (and counterpart relations can be whatever really, siblings, friends, family, partners whatever but ofc in this situation its 100% family or siblings)

And this is why i've written Rays to be so attached to Eclipse and why he seeks his company first and foremost when he feels lonely. And again this could later extend to Veil too! (Because i have not forgotten that oneshot where Rays comforts Veil and mourns with him that broke me Shep IT BROKE ME- /pos)

Anyways thankyou for attending my ted talk i shall now disappear into the cosmos!

I love your rambles honestly- it astonishes me that I’ve made characters that people find are WORTHY of rambling about 🥹❤️ it means a lot to me that Rays means so much to some people :)

I could defiantly see Veil “imprinting” on Rays as a sort of younger brother, for sure! Veil has a lot of emotions that he doesn’t understand and Rays being so gentle and patient with him would really give him brownie points in Veil’s eyes.

The drabble with Rays and Veil mourning was meant to be a sort of introduction into how both of them are accepting that vulnerable side of themselves that they’ve tried to ignore for so long, which would foster a sense of security for Veil since he’s still learning how to let people in (he’s still ahead of Eclipse on that one though LMAO) and accept that he’s ALLOWED to be different from Eclipse. He is, quite obviously, a lot more open-minded than Eclipse is. He may not ENJOY negative emotions, but he’s willing to learn and experience them in order to become a better person.

Eclipse…is not.

The main difference between Veil and Eclipse is that Veil is actively trying to better himself, while Eclipse is doing it without realizing and still has violent, sociopathic urges that others use as reasons to avoid him or discredit the progress he HAS made. Except for Rays, which is why Eclipse has a certain fondness for him, and tries to reign in his frightening tendencies in order to stay on his “good side.”

Rays knows Eclipse is struggling with something, but is too afraid to push it or ask questions.

Eclipse wants to do better for Rays, so he keeps his problems to himself in order to avoid scaring him.

Veil wants to understand himself in order to prove he can be different from Eclipse.

It all goes in cycles between the three, which is why their dynamic is going to be so interesting and unique when their arc begins later on, after Veil is introduced into the main storyline.

Do with this what you will :)

[vacantgodling]

#8: Jihi Arthea

Your world is a mist of illusions; thick and bewildering. Only she can save you now. You stumble in the darkness, take actions not your own—but how little you know of what you have truly done. Should you break free of this curse, the pain of your failures will swallow you. Perhaps it is better to live in blissful ignorance; you can’t miss what you cannot remember. But there is a beacon in the darkness… something that is beginning to open your eyes.

“jihi” means mercy. “arthea” means lofty hill.

39, cis man (he/him), romance: debatable; he’s hard to tie down to most things. he’s flirtatious and enjoys the tease of it, but if things were to try and get serious he gets flighty. sex: yes. preference: feminine.

deep midnight skin and dark, shimmering indigo eyes like the deepest depths of the ocean; they seem to have a strange reflective quality about them that is hard to tell if they absorb or reflect all light. his hair is jet black and frames his face in waves, curling around his cheeks and the nape of his neck. he has a crooked smile that quirks to one side, and he is long and lithe in build and stature, standing somewhere around 5’11”. 

SCOUT, trained as an upperclassman to francesca, cameron, and miona. he is a very skilled scout and tends to fight with his barehands—though this grappling tends to work better on humanoid opponents. the reason he uses his barehands has to do with the fact that he is from Snake’s Canyon and is quite proficient in the magic lumine; so he absorbs the ars of monsters and plants and nearby things as he fights to make his punches more powerful and devastating. he could rip your beating heart out of your chest faster than you can blink. another advantage lumine gives him is that it gives him the odd ability to essentially melt into darkness and become completely invisible to the naked eye. he basically bends light around him into nothingness and steps into the pocket it creates—which is a terrible explanation but he’s bad at explaining how it works himself. the only person who understands this is erebos—but that’s also because he’s a proficient lumine user. 

before jihi met madja, he was already quite a mysterious person. still, he was mysterious in a helpful, relaxed kind of way—he just kept his emotions to his chest and didn’t always let people know what he was privy to or what was on his mind. he loved to tease and got along well with his previous teammate, altair, for this reason, as the two were quite alike. he could be vague but you could tell he had a deep compassion for the people he allowed into his life and he would do anything for those he cared for. if you ask cameron, who has known him for many years… madja changed him. she isn’t sure how or why, but the same traits that he has feel more hollow and on edge than he used to be. he is wholly and solely devoted to her and would drop anything, anyone—kill anything or anyone to please her. its not natural… but he’s too caught in the whims of it to notice or care. at least, yet. another person who notices this is odd is jagoda; who is technically jihi’s younger brother. the two of them don’t really have much of a relationship… just due to the fact that jihi didn’t really grow up with him and their two younger siblings jacira and jitka. the three younger ones moved to Kingsburrow from Snake’s Canyon where they were born to lead a better life, but jihi refused to go and stayed there with their father—causing contention among the family. nowadays, the two of them acknowledge each other… barely. but well. jagoda has his friends, and jihi has madja, and that’s enough. jihi tells himself it is.

3 fun facts about them: he is very dense when it comes to how other people feel about him and doesn’t see anything wrong with flirting with others which really tends to give them the wrong idea and him a slightly unfair reputation as a ‘ladykiller’ — biggest example of this being cameron. he hates the taste of water and has to be coerced, bribed or tricked into drinking it. he loves to take naps, especially on those he trusts—its like the biggest show of his affection for you.

[nonuggetshere]

May we learn about Sting and her other parent?

ALWAYS HAPPY TO TALK ABOUT MY OCS

Sorry this took a hot second, I wanted to finalise the Bean Designs™ before replying

There's actually 3 of them, with Sting being the eldest

And for some context, they're from an AU where PV's sentience is discovered before the sealing, and also they ruinite with Ghost shortly after.

She's extroverted, super energetic and likes to bite things (and people rip PK's ankles). First thing she did right out of the egg was to try and chew on PV's finger. She's also named after Hornet.

Spectre is her twin brother and the younger one out of the two. He's a shy, quiet kid and a bit of a drama queen. Literally came into this world screaming his head off. And you can probably guess correctly that he's named after Ghost. I find PV naming their kids after their siblings very cute.

Also, yeah he's a bee and should technically be a grub, but I got attached to this design and just justified it by saying since vessels go through hemimetabolous metamorphosis, they got that from their parent and just hatch looking like a miniature bee. Yeah, that does raise some eyebrows.

And the third one, Tally. They're 5 years younger than their siblings and look a lot more like a normal vessel and take a lot after PV appearance-wise. They're a quiet, sweet kid that prefers to do their own thing. Their nickname is "little tulip" thanks to their horns looking like flower buds. They're also the one kid I draw the lost of, for some reason

As for their parents-

They have three. (the bee is supposed to have wings btw I just consistently forget about giving the characters wings for whatever reason, it's the bane of my existence)

Petunia is a solitary bee that just ended up in Hallownest and settled down there after a pretty hard life. They're genderfluid, use any pronouns and work as a comedian (who has a personal love for puns). They met, started living with and got together with their other partner before they met PV. Also, I find it funny that they're with PV bc they're very much an anarchist, very critical of the monarchy and generally dislike the higher beings. Also also, they've been declared autistic by my bestie.

Lummis is the firefly, he was born in Hallownest, orphaned and then adopted into a family of menderbugs. Because of it he's sort of a mechanic (or the bug equivalent) by trade. He's also the token cis guy of the relationship (he/him). He's the reasonable one in the relationship that keeps the others in check but still goes along with whatever idiotic idea Petunia pulls because "somebody will have to talk the guards out of arresting us and it certainly won't be you and your big mouth". He's also Hegemol's godson because I head anon that guy as a menderbug and I thought it'd be funny if PV has a bunch of close calls getting catched by good ol' Hedge.

Petunia is the bio parent of Sting and Spectre and Lummis is the bio parent of Tally, though they don't really make that distinction and just all raise them together.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #231

Do you like to cuddle with your S.O. or do you prefer your space? I like to cuddle with him, so long as I'm not hot. If I'm hot, don't touch me.

What TV shows do you watch on a regular basis? None.

What is the last thing you scribbled down on a Post-It note? I have no idea.

Do you care if your produce is organic or not? No, not really.

Do you have any children? If so, how old were you when you had them? If not, do you think you ever will? No, I most likely never will.

Do you get enough calcium? To my knowledge, yeah. I've always liked milk.

Are you nosy? Dude I am so nosy and I know I am. It ain't gotta have nothing to do with me, I just like knowing shit lmao

Are you happy with the size of your bedroom? Yeah.

Where was the last place you went that was totally new to you, as in, it was the first time you’d been there? A primarily sushi place for Mom's birthday. I tried something else (there was no way I was eating sushi), some Thai dish, and it was horrible, I had to eat something when I got home.

When was the last time you used someone else’s computer? Girt's actually, last time we hung out. Long story short and to make it understandable to people who don't play, I was storing certain things in WoW in case I ever do come back to the game.

What’s the relationship status of the last person you talked to? Divorced/single.

Do you say sorry first? If I believe I'm wrong, yes. I am not one to easily say sorry first if I believe I did nothing wrong.

Who will you be spending Christmas with this year? Without fail my mom, and unless something is seriously stopping us we go to my older sister's place, and usually Nicole (my other, younger sister) is there too. I'd like to see Girt, but we usually don't on Christmas day, we spend time with our immediate families.

Did you go to high school with your current best friend? Yes.

Have you ever been a passenger in a semi-trailer truck? No.

Whose was the last funeral you attended? I don't think I've ever been to a funeral, just a wake.

Do you avoid using public restrooms? I try to, yes. But if I seriously gotta go, I gotta go.

Have you seen any extended relatives in the last month? No, I barely ever see extended family. None live in North Carolina.

Do you like eggnog? Nooooooooooooo.

Who is the person you dislike the most? Of people who are actually in my life still, Nick.

Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? I absolutely would if I had an income. I don't have disability checks, I don't have anything. I literally get money on Christmas and my birthday, that's it.

Do you know anyone with celiac disease? I have a cousin with it, yes. I think her mom also has it.

How many siblings do you have? Are they all full siblings? I have two full-blooded sisters, one half-brother, and technically three half-sisters, but one I have never met or spoken to or know almost anything about.

What’s the weather like today? Raining cats and dogs on-and-off, windy. We have a hurricane.

How do you usually celebrate New Years? Occasionally Mom and/or I will have a drink, and that's pretty much the extent of it.

Do you currently have any alarms set? Not right this minute, but at bedtime I've been setting an 10:30-11:00 A.M. alarm lately. I've been sleeping in too late.

Do you like whiskey? Meh, I can have some in mixed drinks. I don't particularly like the flavor, but I don't like the flavor of alcohol period, so...

What type of milk do you like to drink? 2% or whole.

Do you have a first aid kit at home? Yes.

Are your parents dog or cat people? Is that different or the same as you? Mom's a dog person. Dad, I'm not sure. He has a cat and loves him, but we also had dogs while he was still with my family, so idk. I'm a cat person.

What’s your favourite flavour of potato chip? Just plain/salted, honestly. I do like salt & vinegar and french onion, though.

Would you ever get a matching tattoo with someone? Maybe my mom.

What is your Chinese zodiac animal? Rat, I think.

What form of communication did you last use to talk to the person you're currently interested in? Discord.

Do you want to see someone right now? Yeah, I saw Girt like... two days ago and I still really miss him.

What was the last thing you looked up on YouTube? Powerwolf's new album, I think.

Did the last guy/girl you kissed have any piercings? No.

Do you actually love your parents? Yes. I don't know where the hell I'd be without my mom.

What pattern do the sheets on your bed have? They're just plain white.

Where did you get the underwear you are wearing right now? I don't wear underwear with my pajamas, that's so non-cozy lmao

Do you feel uncomfortable sharing drinks with other people? Sure do. I WILL with Girt, but I'd still prefer not to.

Have you gone through a lot emotionally, or has life been easy thus far? I've been through the ringer.

Do you spend more time outside or inside? Inside, it's no competition.

Would you rather give up the computer or the TV? TV, easy. I don't even watch it on my own, only with Mom or Girt.

Last person to make you seriously mad? Tobey.

Who have you recently made up with after fighting? Nobody.

What kind of toothpaste do you use? Crest.

What were you doing this morning at 1am? Most likely sleeping. A flash flood warning woke me up at some point, though.

Have you used a tissue today? Yes, my allergies have been out of this fucking world today.

The last person that slept in your bed gets arrested, what do you do? Cry extremely hard and figure out what the hell happened, try to reach him over phone if he's allowed. I'd have no guess what he got arrested for.

When people ask "how are you?" do you say "good" even if you aren't? No. I don't info-dump, I just don't think there's shame in sharing that you're not doing great.

How was your Friday? Tomorrow is Friday, so the kids should be coming over while their parents work. I don't have a book to read right now, so it's gonna be a long day. I do like Fridays though, at least it's something different, I just get stressed out by kids too easily.

Did you speak to your father today? No, it's been a minute.

What was the last thing you drank? Raspberry lemonade flavored water.

How did you wake up this morning? Tornado warning alert. There's been three or four actual tornadoes touch down in the area since last night, but so far my city has been gratefully spared.

Some people were really destructive as a child, were you? No.

Who was the last person you were in a car with? Girt.

Who was the last person you cried in front of? My mom.

Do you know anyone that is gothic? I have a friend, as well as me, at heart at least. I definitely feel like I fit the gothic aesthetic ideally and emotionally, I just can't be bothered to dress up (that and I can't afford stuff like that), and I HATE putting on makeup.

Have you seen UP? I've seen I think most of it.

How is your mom? Stressed, always.

Do you feel comfortable getting up and giving speeches? HELL no.

Have you ever dipped french fries in a frosty? Yes, I didn't get the appeal at all.

Would you prefer eating jello or pudding? Pudding, so long it's chocolate.

Last time you ate a salad? It's been a long while. I don't really like salads.

Have you ever been described as “adorable”? It's been said before.

Are you a moody person? I can be, yes.

What are you listening to? I'm watching 8-BitRyan play Into The Pit.

What video game could you waste the most time on? It WAS World of Warcraft, but I've stopped playing it. It's the main reason I've been doing more surveys lol, I'm fighting to find other ways to kill time.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

omg I loved the IronFam fic thank u <3 could u maybe write some hcs for the 4 of them? just Tony, harley, Peter and Morgan. ofc Tony is the ultimate ler but I also feel like as the oldest child harley takes on ler role as well ..

IronFam Tickle Headcannons

Oo! Okay 😁 I technically have done Peter 1 already in my Spideyboys headcannons , but I'll do the other 3 in the IronFam :) ❤️ (Look here for IronFam tickles Y/N :))

Tony:

Ler:

This man is the ultimate dad Ler :)

He wasn't too physically affectionate before he met Harley and he became even more so after he met Peter.

The two boys and Morgan bring out the more affectionate side of him.

Sometimes, just to mess with them, he'll deliberately poke or squeeze one of their sides as he passes by.

But when a tickle chase occurs . . . you better hope you can get far!

Tony is persistent.

And he is notorious for using his facial hair as a weapon!

"I have it, might as well use it."

He his also notorious for teasing challenges to fluster whomever he is tickling.

"Come on, you can hold your arms up longer than that."

"Think you could stay a little more still? All your wiggling is making it hard to tickle you."

"Come on, you can give me more giggles than that?" *digs in and gets a squeal* "See? I told you."

He's gentle with all his tickles, but more so with Morgan because she's the littlest.

And he's alllll about hugs and cups of water during after care.

Lee:

Out of all the members of the IronFam, he's the Lee the least amount of times.

He's a revenge tickler so he'll get people back if they try.

But sometimes, he'll let his kiddos defeat him with tickles :) ❤️

Sometimes he'll let Morgan tickle him while they're playing.

And sometimes Harely and Peter will be able to sneak up on him.

His sides are easy targets since he's usually working on something.

Just like he gives side squeezes, he gets side squeezes.

When he gets attacked, he bends in half or to the side rather than squirms.

And he wheezes when his worst spots get tickled.

When he gets attacked, he has a tendency to curse . . .

But he tries not to in front of Morgan cause she'll repeat them 😁

Favorite spot(s): Sides (surprise!)

Worst spot(s): Hips, belly button, thighs

Harley:

Ler:

Just like Tony, Harley is the Ler the most out of the three kids.

He has a tendency to give more aggressive tickles like squeezes, raspberries, etc.

But when he reaaaally wants to get the Lee (like if Peter pranks him) he is systematically slow with dragging fingers and the singular finger poking into random spots.

He loves tickling Morgan because she's adorable . . .

But he loves getting Peter because he thinks it's hilarious.

"You're supposed to protect New York but you can't even protect your self from tickles."

And he'll never admit it, but after hearing all of the crap the kid has been through . . . He's glad to see him smile.

He's the type of Ler to hide around the corners to spook the Lee when he attacks them.

He's also an aggressive affectionate type person.

So like hair ruffles, noogies, playful shoving, aggressively shoving a blanket into his siblings arms.

If you need to wear out a Lee, he's the best person to do so.

But when no one's looking (like if they're asleep), he'll make sure the blanket is tucked over their shoulders "just so they don't freeze" :) ❤️

Lee:

He attacks Peter quite a bit, but surprisingly, the younger boy is horrible at getting him back.

Peter didn't even realize he was ticklish until Tony tickled him.

Now he tickles him back all the time.

Harely does like getting tickled but he's getting used to admitting he likes it ❤️

So Peter makes it his mission to make him admit he likes it when he tickles him . . .

And Harley both despises and loves him for it :)

Be warned when Harley gets tickled, cause he's a kicker 😁

Unless his legs are pinned, you run the risk of being nailed by a foot.

Favorite spot(s): Sides and feet

Worst spot(s): Feet around the heels, calves, and knees

Morgan:

Ler:

Out of all of the kids, she gets to be the Ler the least amount of times ❤️

However, she's very sensitive to others and can tell when they're having a bad day.

When she knows they're having a bad day, she'll go cuddle next to them and ask them if she can tickle them.

And when she tries to tease, it's the most adorable thing ever! ❤️

"Ah gootchie gootchie goo! I got you Petey/Harley!"

She's also the queen of rubbing her nose into someone's cheek to make them smile even more :)

However, since she's the littlest, she often teams up with someone.

They'll hold the Lee while she tickles them.

And when she's done, she'll tackle the Lee in a hug and tell them she loves them.

Lee:

As the baby of the IronFam, she gets tickled quite a bit ❤️

Little side scribbles when she's cuddling with her older brothers.

Ticklish kisses with fun tosses when she gets picked up from school.

Tickle chases around the living room before bed.

But she really doesn't mind at all :)

It makes her happy to share those memories with her family ❤️

She's also a big squirmer when tickled :)

Little does she realize, squirming just reveals more tickle spots 😁

Favorite spot(s): tummy and neck

Worst spot(s): hips, ribs, feet under her toes

[tiredassmage]

more bg blorbo posting!

longer time blog friends may recall something of rhyst as my jedi knight from swtor, but he also has an older sister, rhiannon! and true to form, trying to get their looks right in bg3 was a hell i spent like three hours slogging through for each of them because despite how long i've had them as ocs, they're probably one of the bigger mysteries to me as far as appearance. [which i think, case in point, rhyst has gone ginger since the last time i've posted about him. dyed ginger at least as far as swtor edition is concerned, but ginger nonetheless!]

i've been back and forth on the details of these siblings... pretty much since i decided that they were siblings. and rhyst always gives me interesting conundrums because he's technically cut out of the same cloth as tyr is and a lot of that, thematically, still likes to show up and leave me feeling like a wet dog in flooding road pothole during a storm. that also meant for a while that him and tyr shared some similarities in appearance, too, and while i've decided my brain might explode if i tried to address that in the galaxy far, far away, i thought i could have a bit more fun with complicating everything in their fantasy land adventures, lol!

so! rhyst i have made as an oath of ancients paladin, and in my heart a paladin of tyr [i'll address that in two seconds, i promise, lol]. i've been lazy on downloading the deities mod i'm pretty sure exists for paladins bc i'm not ready to get into his playthrough for real yet [or rather, the latest one. considering he has seen. a few attempts already in bg. i swear, this man and not knowing what he really looks like driving me absolutely batty], but i might yet. anyway, that's not particularly important. he's the younger of the siblings by a year or two and is generally like a really, really happy to see you labrador. rhyst is kind of a burning idealist and kind-hearted. he's ready to look for the best in just about anyone, or at least acknowledge that, if circumstances had been different, people he winds up crossing blades with may have seen differently. he's fond of stories of heroes and i'd say he's... the kind of still young enough where he hasn't had his ideals and drives of "why can't we all just get along" thoroughly tested yet; the world hasn't had a chance to jade him.

rhiannon is a light domain cleric of kelemvor and sometimes the one that's a little bit more ready to start swingin' of the siblings. [though if you put them both in the same room, they can mutually come to a conclusion that bashing things is the correct way to resolve a problem, and will do so with gusto.] while both of them can hold fairly rigid to their sense of right and wrong, i think rhiannon has had a teensy bit more practical world experience and was the bolder traveler of the two of them.

and with harper heritage, both of them firmly stand by doing what needs to be done.

both are born and raised in baldur's gate, primarily by their mother, a city druid. what they know of their father is mostly stories, but rhiannon might've met him once or twice.

so, the reason i mentioned tyr [the oc] in all of this, lol, is bc i keep making bg-edition of his family group bigger, lol.

the man, the myth, the legend, etc etc. tyr who i've realized i should probably start calling oliver in baldur's gate to steal a leaf out of one of his covers bc for all the 'finding new paths in life' after spending his first couple of decades working as an assassin, going by the name of the in-universe god of justice is maybe a bit more sacrilegious than i'd diagnose him with. not that the man is particularly faithful to authority and the divine, exactly, but he's also not looking to pick a fight with the god of justice. a few others, maybe more so, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.

so before oliver sort of settled down for good and moved out of the city, he did spend a little time with the harpers, and that kids, is how i met your mother. [badumtsh!] (whom i still have to name. rip)

it's a relatively short relationship i imagine, compared to the fact that oliver's now married with two other daughters (one biological and one adopted), but also pretty amicably ended. i think rhyst and rhiannon's mother wasn't quite interested in keeping up with the likes of the harpers anymore and was a bit more ready to settle in, where oliver still saw work to do [and involvements to atone for, which is perhaps deserving of a post of it's own because gods know him and alucren have. (gestures) Things going on between them].

so, ~unfortunately for dear mum, rhiannon and rhyst sort of inherited the harper's bug, and a nose that wouldn't leave a layman's "well enough" alone. rhiannon seeks to lay to rest the undead i think partly inspired by dear old dad's previous connections as an assassin, and rhyst pursued the path of a paladin inspired by heroic tales and talk of honor and following codes and oaths taken.

undecided just how involved in the plot i'll get them, but i do think it'd be a lil fun to at least have one version of events where there's a kinda silly family reunion to the tune the likes of "of course you'd be in the middle of all of this. how can we help?" [oliver and jaheira shaking hands and sighing over wrangling strong-willed kids]

[lotuslia]

3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 15, 16, 17, 21, 22, 23, 25 for Inquisitor-questions ^^

Ooh, I get to talk about Astralis in length :D Thanks!

3. Where was your Inquisitor born? Where did they grow up?

Astra's dalish, and based on the Wicked Grace scene where he tells stories of the clan camping near the Tirashan, I imagine they don't always stay within the Free marches' borders. So! He was born on Nevarran land technically, and grew up along the lower parts of the Marches. I've established that they were near Kirkwall when he was 14 and traded in Markham when he was 15, but not much more than that.

4. What are your Inquisitor's parents names? Do they have siblings? What are their names?

His mother is named Alma, and father is named Isvin. Alma is not originally a Lavellan but moved clans because ✨she fell in love✨xD He has two siblings, Yuni (older by 5 years) and Andri (adopted city-elf from Markham, younger by 6 years). He also has a daughter, Nava, who turns 6 a few months after DAI begins.

It's also mention-worthy that Isvin is the son of Keeper Deshanna, making these three her grandchildren.

5. How old is your Inquisitor at the start of the game?

Thirty-one!

7. Who was your Inquisitor's first friend in the Inquisition?

Varric kind of. Astra's read many of his books and was totally taken by the Tale of The Champion before ever meeting Varric, so he's curious. At first it's really just admiration and Varric humoring him to keep entertaining company at a rough time, but they do eventually become actual friends as well, but it takes time.

As soon as the advisors arrive, Astralis and Josie bond very fast and that's probably the first deeper friendship he makes there. And that friendship stays strong throughout, she's easily one of his favorite people because she always makes an effort to see past the role forced upon him.

9. Where does your Inquisitor like to hang out at Skyhold?

Honestly, he hangs around the companions most of all, so wherever they are. He'll bring his paperwork to Dorian's library corner, nap on Solas' couch, sit with the Chargers or Sera at the tavern, and so on.

10. What does your Inquisitor do with their free time? Do they have any hobbies?

Astralis is at his core, a restless soul. He's a shit crafter by his own evaluation but the clan's craftswoman taught him a simple yarn bracelet so he keeps making those to keep his hands busy, and reads, and practices magic, and enables Sera's pranks more often than anyone would suspect. If anyone takes him up on the offer, he also practices dancing, but feels a bit too awkward doing it alone.

11. Where is your Inquisitor's favorite region to visit?

Emerald Graves, definitely. Not only is it relevant to his interests as a dalish elf, it's also BIG and PRETTY and he could get lost there for a very long time and be perfectly content.

15. Which companion is your Inquisitor closest to? Why?

Well, Dorian goes without saying, but other than that... I think he's closest with Varric, Sera, and eventually Cassandra (they're both stubborn and don't get along at all first). He's also very good friends with Krem but not quite as close with Bull until later on.

With Varric they have this 'try to keep each other on our feet during this mess' kind of friendship. With Cassandra they both mellow out a little with time and get to know each other outside of their original conflicts. And with Sera it's a bit of a rocky road sometimes but they keep an eye on each other, even if they don't always get along.

16. Who did your Inquisitor romance? What drew them to that person?

Astralis romances Dorian, and while I mentioned he has a daughter already, he's been split from Nava's mother (Rivra) since the girl was born. They're good friends still, and co-parent the girl to this day.

He liked Dorian from the start and thought he was fun and intriguing. The fact they spent a day stuck in time together and saw each other in the middle of big emotions right off the bat certainly helped, but honestly they'd have bonded fast anyway. They don't agree on everything and sometimes get frustrated with each other, but they have a lot in common, and approach things with a lot of heart.

17. How did your Inquisitor feel about becoming an Inquisition agent? How did they feel about getting promoted to Inquisitor?

Overall he just wanted to go home back to his family, but since that wasn't an option he settled into being an agent pretty well, all things considered. He never wanted to be known as a Herald of anything, and being offered the role of Inquisitor was no better, just more things he was tied into against his will.

He tried to refuse on the basis that the people didn't want him, they wanted some divine being that they imagined when they looked past him. But he ended up accepting because if he was too soft to lead, then someone else would take the title and he'd just have to listen and follow their choices. He had the anchor after all, he was tied to the inquisition whether he wanted to or not. At least as inquisitor he could make sure they did right by his people.

He hears "you're too soft" a bit too often for it to not stick, and for a time overcompensates a bit in fear of leading everyone to another Haven situation, but in time he finds his own way to lead and begins to feel more comfortable in the role.

21. What pet would your Inquisitor have? What would they name it?

Hmmmm, Astra's not a big animal-person, but he might enjoy having a calm cat around, or a lizard maybe? He'd name it after some item or such, probably in dalish. A pretty-sounding name to others, but elves would know his cat's name is Socks.

22. What mount does your Inquisitor use? Did they name it?

In-game I always use harts, but in my fic I gave him a horse first of all and he named it Renan. It means 'voice', because it took a bit for them to find a mutual understanding, as he'd never ridden before.

23. What has your Inquisitor been up to between Trespasser and Veilguard?

He's been traveling, is the short of it. He was the keeper's First before DAI, but stuff happened and when he was finally able to go home, it didn't feel right to take back that role. So instead he let his fellow apprentice continue her Keeper's role but now in an official measure, and Astralis himself took up the role of a traveling messenger between clans, a kind of shared keeper. He sometimes brings Nava with him, or drops by his friends elsewhere, and on occasion sneaks his way through Minrathous to see Dorian.

He's technically helping the Red Jennies too, but on a more unofficial sense. He's entirely separated himself from the inquisition, which disbanded, but does keep in contact with the friends he made there, and promised to give his support if it's needed, just in a non-leader role from now on.

25. What's one thing you wish your Inquisitor could have done that wasn't an option? (e.g. become Divine, alternate romance, different quest outcome, different region map, etc.)

My main change from game-to-fic is the fact that we never got to see the inquisitor's background people, even though there are war table missions about them. I have a whole scenario that goes off-canon where he receives the request for help from his clan and just refuses to let the advisors handle it.

He goes to Wycome, brings along a little group, and they solve the problem there in person (it doesn't go well and he doesn't feel very welcome there afterwards, but the clan is alive and the goal is reached, mostly). Afterwards his siblings and daughter + some others come to Skyhold with him, and stay until the end of Trespasser.

Playing Astralis in the game itself feels very lonely without his family around ;;v;; I wish it were possible to mod them in or something, but sadly that goes beyond mods. I'll just have to write it instead.