#AND THEN YOU SEE HIM IN THE SECOND GAME!!! AND HES GOT A CLAN!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ineylesian · 9 months ago

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— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet.

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration.

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.”

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward.

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down.

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires.

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him.

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage.

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol.

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear.

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone.

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still.

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound.

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled.

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side.

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty.

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock.

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better.

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny.

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas.

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait.

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers.

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed.

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather.

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals.

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum.

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease.

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him.

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?”

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down.

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box.

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait.

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red.

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision.

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn.

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.”

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched.

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly.

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait.

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again.

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you.

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air.

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise.

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties.

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you.

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight.

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?”

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china.

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you.

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures.

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity.

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel.

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now.

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone.

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

#eleysiacalling #eleysiansighs #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail smut

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lovepookie · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚ෆ Consequences - p.gw

♡ sypnosis: your boyfriend is park gunwook. sweet. cute. couldn’t hurt a fly. and you? a demon who wants to tick him off and see him jealous. gunwook doesn’t play when it comes to his feelings, so naturally, you’ll suffer the consequences—or maybe you won’t. you’re kinda his soft spot.

♡ genre: teeth rotting fluff, some angst, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook

♡ 2.1k word count

♡ warnings: toxic?? a little emotional manipulation?? reader trying to get gunwook jealous, cursing, please let me know if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: idk guys i was just deep in my gunwook bag when i wrote this. he’s so 🥺…enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

You stared at your boyfriend on the couch, watching the way he maneuvered his long fingers across his phone screen, probably playing clash of clans like he always did.

The natural pout that his lips formed made your cheeks flush rosy.

He was just so cute. Just thinking about all the times that very pout had convinced you to do things for and with him had your heart racing.

Who could resist it?

This got you thinking…

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your sweet and caring boyfriend actually upset. Maybe bothered, but he’d always cover it up with a smile and/or talk out how he was feeling before those emotions escalated. It left you to believe that this healthy way of communication and emotional management had been one of the very reasons you fell for the boy.

As you watched him in his puffer jacket, pout still on display, black hair in his eyes, the devil on your shoulder started to talk to you.

How would he look angry?

You’d never seen him genuinely frustrated…

Now, now, now.

I know what you’re thinking!

This isn’t a good idea!

“You’re so in love with me huh? Just can’t stop staring…tsk tsk…” He mumbled out just for you to hear, a small boyish and teasing grin making its way onto his face before his lips pursed up like a duck.

The pink rosacea in his cheeks from the cold outside still hadn’t settled, and yet here he was, already on his bullshit.

His words made you roll your eyes as you decided to make your way to the other side of the couch.

Fuck what was right and wrong!

He teased you first, so let the games commence.

You scoff as you move, deciding to scroll through your own phone mindlessly for the award-winning act you were about to put on. “In love?…with you? Hah!” You chuckled out, intending to say it loud enough to where it wasn’t meant to be heard by him but still was.

He peaked over at you for the first time in a while and frowned a bit as you stretched your legs out to where your feet had ended at the side of his thighs.

You’d seen that frown before.

He’d do it when something was said that didn’t quite sit right with him and it would usually lead to a conversation.

This time, however, his hands found your ankles and pulled you closer by the leg, almost disregarding his phone altogether.

“What did you say?” He asks, peaking over at you as you screech from the sudden movement. You always forget about his strength, so the sudden pull forward caught you off guard.

“I didn’t say anything…” You say, never sparing a glance his way, face clearly ridden with irritatance.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, then his hands leave your ankles, but his elbow touches your sock-covered feet mindlessly. He goes back to playing on his phone, igniting a bigger want in you to continue the game that you were playing with him.

For a few silent moments, you thought through ways to get under his skin, deciding you weren’t good at truly hurting him without doing anything detrimental. Still, you smirk for a second when an idea comes to mind.

“Gunwook, can you please stop touching me?” You say, pulling your feet away so no contact would be made between you two.

That’s it! Hit him where it hurts; physical affection.

His head snaps to you, and he immediately flinches away from you as he processes your words. You’d never asked him that before…and definitely never whilst using his government name.

“Uh, yeah…sorry.” He mumbled, and now his frown is a pout.

A sad one.

You keep yourself from laughing at the scene, your chest aching for your baby boo and how mean you were being to him.

He didn’t deserve this!

You take him in for a moment as his fingers tap lightly on his screen. Random swipe, random tap…it was almost like he was fidgeting with his game at this point. Whatever was on his mind was clearly bothering and hindering him from focusing.

Suddenly, without warning, he’s quickly turning his phone off and turning his body towards you.

“Baby…do you want to eat something?” He says in a hopeful tone, thick eyebrows raised.

You barely spare him a glance.

“Not really…” you mumble, continuing to randomly type your feelings in the messaging app so it looked like you were texting someone at the moment.

You spot Gunwook’s shoulders drop a bit, then he’s leaning back into the couch, just staring at you.

“I thought you texted me earlier that you hadn’t eaten yet…” He says as he watches you, his eyes a little serious. You continue to spare him no glance.

“I lied. I ate with a friend earlier. He left before you got here.” You lie, tone flat. At this point your pulse feels like it’s beating out of your chest. From the corner of your line of vision, you watch as he continues to stare at you, face blank and almost no emotions emitting at all.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your rib cage and hide under the couch with how serious he looked. This was not your pookie; it wasn’t even Gunwook at this point.

It felt like a stranger had taken over.

You can’t really blame him though; you too probably seemed like a stranger to him right now.

After a few more seconds of excruciatingly tense silence, he‘s standing and zipping up his coat, presumably getting ready to leave.

Your eyes shoot up, and when you catch a glimpse of his face, you knew you fucked up. It’s cold—unwaveringly cold.

Like a switch, you realize the game is over, and quickly stand to your feet. “Where are you going?” You ask, eyebrows raising and a scared smile rising to your face. Gunwook just looks past you and around for his belongings, sparing you not an ounce of his attention.

“I’m going to leave. You can call your friend back. Maybe you’d have more fun with him.” He says, and for a second you catch the glossiness in his eyes. Your heart drops immediately, and before you can even think, you’re launching yourself at him.

“Gunwook! No! Wookie i was just playing! It’s a joke I swear it’s a joke!” You say, arms tightening around his rigid frame whilst he goes still and stares past you.

“…”

There’s silence for a breif moment and you start to get really scared.

“Pookie you know it’s all jokes! I wanted to get you mad…It was stupid, I��m really sorry.” You say, chin on his chest as you cling onto him, manically begging him to listen.

He takes a moment before looking down at you, your faces impossibly close, a blank expression still present.

“…Say swear.” He says, looking down at you through his lashes, pout forming on his lips.

You can’t help but crack a smile, leaning on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

If it was up to you, you’d wish to kiss his pout away until it never returned.

So that’s what you do.

Peck.

And when you pull away with a “muah!” each time, his smile starts to appear and grow wider. Soon he’s fighting back the smile as he looks down at you, never once leaning down to aide the height difference as you struggle.

“Gunwook I swear! I swear on everything, it was just a joke. There was no guy here. I am really really hungry right now. I don’t want to see you upset. I’m sorry.” You ramble out, staring up at him.

He was your grey marshmallow right now, arms stuck to his sides and in his puffer jacket as you squeezed the life out of him.

And just like that, a full smile breaks out on his face, gummy and sweet. You smile too in response, but then you’re quickly squealing again when he breaks free of your squish and suddenly throws you over his shoulder.

“H-Hey! Put me down!” You yell, trying to steady yourself to be vertical again by using his back. He laughs and keeps you in the air however, arms strongly wrapped around your legs.

“No. I’m hungry and you made me wait.” He says, and you can hear the gummy smile in his tone. Soon he’s marching outside where snow is falling from the sky; reminants of a blizzard from a few days ago.

The cold air immediately hits your pajama-covered skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine. “W-we can order food! Take me back inside, I’m cold!! Put me down!” You yelp, hands on his shoulders as you look down at him, a smile never leaving your face.

He just looks up at you and laughs.

“Oh my- I’ve never seen you from this angle before.” He says, and his lips are doing that pursed thing again.

You blush, trying to visualize yourself in his position when a vivid image of your probable double-chin comes to mind.

“Sh-shut up-“ You try, but you’re cut off suddenly when his grip on you is loosening, and your body slides closer to the floor.

You’re suddenly aware of your sock-only covered feet so you screech and start to claw at his shoulders as you raise your legs.

“Gunwook! I don’t have shoes on-“

“You told me to put you down!” He’s laughing out, staring at you face to face now that you’ve shimmied your way down to eye-level.

You smack his chest, which ultimately doesn’t do much because of the layers he’s wearing.

“I’m going to get sick-“

“Good.” He says, interrupting you again, shiny stars in his eyes as he nods. You go quiet as you take him in, staring at the snow flakes littering the top of his head.

He stares back with that wide smile still on display whilst he tries to hide it. The sight nearly takes the cold feeling rising in your chest away. You felt warm.

In the middle of a blizzard—but warm.

“It’s what you get for trying to make me mad-“

“Gunwook, you’re stunning.” You say, cutting him off for the first time.

He’s shocked for a second as he looks in your eyes—it’s there where he can tell you mean what you say. He goes silent and his cheeks flush as he thinks about blaming it on the cold.

“Hey…that’s my line…” He says shyly, and without another second to spare he’s taking you back inside. Out of shyness, he opens the door quickly and places you down as soft as he can.

You smile, completely enamored by the warm giant. He shuffles into your home, shy and awkward as if he hasn’t been there twenty plus times before.

“G-go change. You’ll get sick.” He says through a stutter. You smile up at him, eyeing the snowflakes littered through his raven-locks.

So then you motion for him to come closer.

“W-what?” He asks, inching a small bit forward. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not going to do anything, come here and let me help you.” You say, giggling at his shy stubbornness. He blushes as he leans down, then your arms make their way up to pat the snow off of his head.

He’s smiling at you the whole time, eyes full of charm.

Eyes that read; she’s so into me.

Before you can pull away he’s mirroring you, moving to get the snow off of your hair but obnoxiously messing it up and tangling it in the process.

You laugh out in protest at this. “Hey! O-okay! I get it-“

But he doesn’t stop.

“We get it! Thank you-“

And without warning, his lips are on yours and cutting you off, large hands at both sides of your cheeks.

His lips are pillowy and warm and juxtapose his cold hands that are cupping your face like you’ll disappear in any second.

When he pulls away, his eyes immediately look into yours, hands never leaving your face. He leans in one more time, and naturally your eyes close on instinct.

Before he peppers another light kiss to your lips, he whispers out a few words accordingly—just like the little shit that he is;

“I’ll forgive you this time, cutie.”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

#. . . nanowrites #lovepookie/au.doc #park gunwook #zb1 gunwook #gunwook imagines #gunwook x reader #gunwook fluff #zerobaseone gunwook #zb1 fluff #zb1 au #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone fluff #zb1 masterlist #zerobaseone #kpop au #kpop zb1 #zb1 scenarios

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rallamajoop · 10 months ago

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The Complete Guide to Eye Colour In Resident Evil 7

An addendum to my guide to eye colour in RE8: here's everyone from RE7 too! Getting close-ups of these was way harder than for RE8, because RE7 does not come with a model viewer, so I'm stuck using in-game screenshots and promotional images.

Once again, we'll start with the cheat-sheet version:

The whole Baker family: Blue (except when...) Mia: Brown (FOR NOW) Eveline: Green Alan: Hazel/green Deputy OneSceneWonder: Brown Chris: Hazel/brown (FOR NOW) Clancy, Andre and Peter: Brown Ethan: Still hazel

But it can never just be that simple, can it? So, further notes below.

The Baker Family

The Baker family all have blue-grey eyes. In fact, post-infection, they all have the exact same blue eyes (see top line in comparisons below). You could maybe put this down to genetics for Zoe and Lucas, but when Jack and Marguerite have the same eyes as each other too, that's when you start wondering just how many backwater-hillbilly-stereotypes are in play here.

Mind you, they do have slightly different eyes in the pre-mould flashback that is the Daughters DLC, which you can see in the second row above. All are brighter blues, pre-infection, and Jack gets smaller pupils while Lucas gets a slightly larger iris (Zoe gets nothing, as she's the viewpoint PC and we're not redoing her face if you're not going to see it). So maybe we can hope there's some genetic diversity in the Baker-clan (renders of their eyes in their actual faces also look a little more distinct, but maybe that's a lighting thing). Either way, the Bakers = blue eyes! Got it!

And then we meet Uncle Joe in the other DLC who... has hazel eyes?

IDEK, maybe Uncle Joe's real dad was a different mailman.

Once we get deeper into mould-monster territory though, things do get a little more interesting.

Both Marguerite and Lucas appear with much creepier whitened eyes later in the game ‒ Marguerite's during her boss-fight transformation. Lucas, however, remains steadfastly human-shaped throughout the main campaign, but his eyes are whitened in his video message to Ethan, and in his (pre-monstrous transformation) DLC appearances too. Jack, by contrast, doesn't seem to get new eye textures even after blowing off the top of his own head, or in the boss fight that follows (monster!Jack from the fight in the boat house has completely different eyes, of course, and more of them). Mia, too, has her own set of creepy-alternate-mould-monster-eyes, but they're completely different again.

So what's the internal logic here? I could speculate that Lucas' eyes-only transformation is a sign he's in control of himself in a way Jack and Marguerite aren't, but it doesn't quite add up. If anything, those eyes make more sense as something Lucas was given because we never see him transform like Marguerite, or blow pieces of himself away like Jack: Lucas may look human, but the eyes are there to remind us he's not. There'll always be some details that end up being more about effective storytelling than cohesive lore.

Interestingly, though they don't appear in the game, there are also promotional pics of all four members of the Baker family with glowing white/silver eyes, which are definitely a supernatural feature. It's tempting to try and associate the effect with Rose's glowing eyes from the Shadows of Rose DLC, or perhaps even the general pale-grey-eyes of Miranda and the Lords (more on both in my post on eyes in RE8). But that's territory that really needs its own post or we'll be here all day.

Clancy, Andre and Peter

These are the three ill-fated crew of the Sewer Gators tape you'll encounter early in the game. You may notice Peter (rightmost in the pic above) seems to have even more dilated pupils than the majority of the cast. Amusing as it might be to theorise that he's just on drugs or something, I think there is an explanation: the closest shot we see of his face (and the first shot of the tape) is a close-up into a camera while the team is outside in the dark. His pupils would naturally be dilated in this sort of environment.

So why aren't Andre's dilated too? Well, the closest look we get at his eyes (also pictured) are the final shot of the tape, where he's already dead, and his eyes are covered by a red film. Medical plausibility aside, dilated pupils presumably didn't add to the effect here, so Andre gets regular pupils.

Speaking of assets, there is actually one photo of the three of them in the game, from the pamphlet you can find in their van at the start. You can even almost make out Clancy's face!

Clancy's own eyes are their whole own kettle of worms, but we'll get to that below.

Chris Redfield

Is an odd one: I can't share an eye-texture asset for Chris, because he doesn't actually have a character model at all in the main RE7 title. And explaining that one is gonna take some context.

While RE8 renders nearly all cutscenes using in-game models, RE7 stores far more of its major cutscenes pre-rendered in .wmv format. The opening is pre-rendered, video messages from Mia and Lucas are pre-rendered ‒ even the big moment when Eveline blows out the windows of the tanker and throws Mia into the river is pre-rendered. Not all cutscenes work this way, but basically anything that would require loading a lot of assets that aren't needed in gameplay (eg. the view of the river and tanker for outside) seems to have been pre-rendered as a video instead.

And since Chris' only scene in all of RE7 is in the pre-rendered ending sequence, he doesn't have a model at all (or at least, I couldn't find it). We do see Chris in openings and endings of the Not a Hero DLC as well, and the End of Zoe ‒ but these too are just .wmv files, presumably for all the same reasons.

Now, obviously, Chris is also playable in the DLC, so he does have a character model there. But we still don't get eye textures for him for a couple of reasons: firstly, he wears a face-concealing mask that only comes off for opening/ending cutscenes. But even without it, we might just hit other weirdness surrounding player character models...

As I've already noted, both Chris and Mia get completely different new blue eyes in RE8, but back in RE7, Capcom seemed a little more aware that brown or hazel eyes were a real thing regular white people do have sometimes.

A note on player-character models

Although we mostly just see the hands of whoever we're playing as (usually Ethan), gameplay still uses a full-body model, presumably to aid in rendering dynamic shadows, and give enemies something to cover in blood. Things get weird around the character's head, which isn't actually visible so it can't get in the way of the camera floating inside it, but will still cast shadows and still has textures associated with it (though usually in much lower resolution than other models we'll actually get to see). There are three playable characters in RE7 proper: Ethan, Mia, and Clancy (from the video tapes) ‒ each with their own model and textures.

Ethan and Mia also have more detailed 3rd person models, since we see plenty of Mia playing as Ethan, and a little of Ethan playing as Mia (if only from behind).

Why does this matter? Well, distinct as the three PCs are otherwise, their player models all have the same eyes ‒ top row above shows Ethan, Mia and Clancy, in that order. And they look nothing like Ethan's and Mia's eyes have ever looked elsewhere, which you can see in the comparison below.

I mention this mostly because it's pretty easy to find Ethan's player-model in the game files, note those generic-hazel eye textures with it, and go, "hey, you got his eyes wrong!" But these aren't the same eyes that come with his higher-res texture, or the ones that were copied over into RE8. In fact, the existence of the player-character-default-eye-texture back in RE7 is one of the reasons why I do tend to take full-res Ethan's eyes as 'canon', even though we never see them in either game: someone took the time to repaint Ethan's eyes for his full-res model, and make them distinct from the low-res default used for everyone in 1st person mode. That at least suggests there was some real, intentional effort put into deciding what colour eyes Ethan was supposed to have.

This does leave poor Clancy in more ambiguous territory, however: as he's never seen by any other character, he has no high-res model, and thus no eyes but the default-hazel that Mia and Ethan are rendered with in that mode too. So is this to be taken as Clancy's official eye colour? It may as well be, I suppose. We see so little of Clancy in any form that I was genuinely surprised to find out his he's actually got a player model which is completely distinct from anyone else in the game, with curly greying hair, a neckbeard, and a baseball cap worn backwards.

Render by nightsatkendalls over on deviantart.

I do not have the skills to produce a render of this quality myself, but I can tell you that the cap he's wearing has the logo for the RE Engine on the front (the in-house game engine behind all the modern RE titles, and many other Capcom games).

You'll never see it in game, of course ‒ you'd need both a freecam mod and a mod to make his head visible. But it's there as a weird little easter-egg nonetheless.

Eveline

Eveline is perhaps the only character whose model may not have been updated at all for RE8, but given she's only a hallucination or ghost, that stands to reason. In RE7 though, she also appears as her aged 'grandma' self, who pops up around the house in her wheelchair looking spacey. Grandma-Eveline has two different eye texture assets ‒ one far more washed out than the other. There's next to no good official pictures of her, but fortunately, since she doesn't move around or attack you, she was one of the very few characters I was able to get a decent close-up shot off with the free camera mod. And inasmuch as you're ever in a position to look her in the eye in game, only the faded version of her eyes ever seems to show up. Is the clearer version actually used somewhere I didn't catch? I have no idea.

What really stands out about granny-Eveline's eyes, though, is that they don't look anything like her child-self's eyes do. Child-Eveline is basically the only character in either game with distinctly green eyes. But Granny's are hazel, and not even a particularly similar shade of hazel.

In fact, they look far more like the generic-default hazel of the player character textures than they do like her younger self. Close-up comparisons below.

You could speculate that it was deliberate that Granny-Eveline's eyes don't look anything like kid-Eveline's eyes to avoid tipping off the player that they're one and the same ‒ but realistically, no-one without free camera mods is ever going to get a good enough look at either of them to notice. And it's kind of a shame they didn't just take young-Eveline's eyes and apply the same kind of distortions they seem to have applied to the generic-hazel template to age them up ‒ that would've been a lovely, creepy little detail to find in these textures. But no, generic old hazel it is.

Then again, whatever the real logic at play, the fact Granny-Eveline's eyes are effectively a faded, distorted version of the very same eyes the player themselves never does get to see in the mirror is a pretty creepy idea itself. And intentional or not, that's what I've got to leave you with.

#Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil #Ethan Winters #Mia Winters #Joe Baker #Marguerite Baker #Zoe Baker #Lucas Baker #Eveline #Alan Droney #Clancy Jarvis #Peter Walken #Andre Stickland #RE assets #unused assets #eye colours

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marvelmymarvel · 2 years ago

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Fake Love

Madara Uchiha x Senju!Reader

Synopsis: Wanting to get on Hashirama's nerves, Madara acted like he was infatuated with you. All he wanted to do was just get a rise out of the Senju, but he didn't expect to fall in love.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

Madara smirked at your bashful gaze, eyes full of love as you fiddled with your fingers. You stood by the waterfall you proclaimed was your "meet up" spot, where your father wouldn't find you.

Part of him felt guilty for making you feel flustered and sneaky. He could tell he excited you based on your fidgeting in his presence. But he found this to be rather enjoyable. He got to see you all flustered while he also got to witness Hashirama slowly lose his patience.

"She's off limits, Madara."

Ya ya. Whatever. Limits were meant to be crossed, to be broken. You were meant for this little game. And he was having a blast.

"You look magnificent tonight. Did you dress up just for me?" His voice was deep and silky, only causing you to fall deeper in love with him. You stammered a reply, claiming that you just wanted to feel pretty today, but he knew that was a lie. He knew you did this for him. Growing tired of your gaze being on the ground, Madara brushed back a piece of your hair before cupping your face.

You reluctantly looked up at him, eyes wide as your mouth opened in shock. He's flirted with you, but touching was new. Madaras smirk deepened as the heat of your cheeks seeped through his glove. God's, he loved playing with you.

"I- Uh…" you stuttered, mouth slamming shut as he rubbed his gloved thumb along your cheekbone. His eyes were filled with adoration, and you believed it was genuine. That he was genuine.

That he loved you.

What you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, Madara repeated to himself as he watched you fall more in love with just his touch alone. You stepped closer to him, eyes expectant as you wondered if he would do it. If he was going to kiss you -

"Y/n! Where are you!!"

A gasp flew from your lips as you stepped away from Madara, eyes wide in disbelief as Hashirama's voice floated through the air. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow-" Madara didn't let you finish, seeing this as the perfect opportunity for Hashirama to see the exchange. He wrapped an arm around you and dragged you into his chest. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he leaned in, eyes closing before he pressed his lips softly against yours.

Your gasp was muffled against his lips, fear of your brother seeing this filling every nerve of your body. His tongue swiped across your lower lip, practically begging you to give in to him.

Give in to desire.

Thinking Hashirama was still far away, you kissed back, hands clinging onto his shoulders for support. What felt like an eternity was only a few seconds before he pulled away -

"Y/n…"

Your e/c eyes snapped open before you saw Hashirama standing along the tree line. Your rapidly beating heart seemed to have stopped at the angry look on his face. You just crossed a line.

And it was all Madara's fault.

"I forbid you from talking to him, Y/n. The Uchiha clan is evil-"

"To you, father. But Hashirama formed a treaty with them. We no longer see them as enemies-"

"I will not repeat myself. Stay away from that clan, or you will be banished. Understood?"

You bit your lip at that… Hashirama told your father about the kiss, so now here you are. Once again being lectured to stay away from them. But you couldn't help it. Couldn't help that the oldest caught your eye.

Couldn't help that he made you feel this way.

Regardless, you nodded your head, understanding that you wouldn't be able to be happy with Madara and still be in the Senju clan. That's not how this worked.

It never would work.

Months passed, and you tried to avoid Madara for fear of being lectured again. But he was persistent. You were pulled inside the alley on your way home from the market. "Madara, I can't talk to you-"

"But you want to. I want you to," he whispered playfully as his hand moved from your wrist to your hip, dragging you into his body. You two were deep enough in the alley now that no one would see you. Oddly, he didn't know why he was suddenly trying to hide you away. He figured it was just to keep playing with you without wandering eyes. But the sinking feeling in his stomach told him something else.

"Madara," your whine of protest went unheard by him as he began peppering kisses along your neck and face. He pulled you closer to him, wanting to feel your emotions physically. Your pulse hammered against his lips, and he bit back a smile at how you reacted to him.

But you were still holding back on him; you were stopping yourself from falling deeper in love with him. He needed that. He craved it. Madara pulled back, dark eyes silently pleading for you to give in to the desire. Give in to him. The tension grew thicker as the two of you stared at each other. You wanted to snap it. Break the tension and just give him what he wants. But your father… Your brother… Your clan.

Madara cooed as a tear slipped down your cheek, his heart-wrenching slightly as you felt the pain of loving him in full.

"Give in to me, Y/n. All you need is me.

As if on command, you jumped onto him, lips crashing against his as you decided then and there that he was all that mattered. Not your father. Not your brother. Not your clan.

Him.

Madara knew then that this was the point where he should let you be, where he should avoid you to save your heart from destruction.

But something inside of him was changing. Some emotion was swirling in his stomach as you wrapped your arms around him, encasing him in your calming aura. Something was changing in Madara, and because of that. He wasn't going to step away.

Not yet, at least.

Months passed, and the two of you got closer. The feelings swirling within him that fateful day had blossomed into something much more than he expected. Late-night dinners turned into sleepovers where you would talk about life through the night, the only thing stopping you being the sun peeking through the curtains. He learned so much about you - big and small, from your favorite color to your biggest fear. Every new thing made him fall more and more in love with you.

It was then that he realized, as he watched you take shaky steps towards him with your fingers tightly gripping his journal that he had fallen in love with you.

And he was about to have the worst heartbreak of his entire life.

"You did this. All of this to get a rise out of my brother?"

His heart stopped, eyes widening as he cautiously stepped towards you. "Y/n. Wait," you violently shook your head, urging your tears to stay hidden. You couldn't give him this satisfaction. You couldn't do it.

"Y/n…"

His hand cupped your cheek, but it didn't stay long as you ripped it off. "Don't touch me," your snarl caught him off guard, but how you looked made him want to die. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears brimming your lash line begging to be shed. Your lip trembled, and your body shook with it. You were heartbroken.

And it was all his fault.

"At first, yes, that is what I was doing but not anymore, Y/n. I love you."

You sputtered out a mocking laugh at that; loved you? If he loved you, he wouldn't have done such a thing. "He was right about you. They all were."

That one caught his attention, who was "he" and who were "they." His blood boiled at the thought of someone telling you he was no good for you and not because they were wrong. But because they were right.

"Y/n. Please. Can we talk about this" he sputtered out, desperation taking over his thinking as he again reached for you. But you once again ripped away from him. "Tobirama was right. You were just using me. You never loved me-"

"That's a lie, and you know it-"

"Do I!? I thought I did till I read this" You enunciated the last word by shaking the journal in his face, taunting him with something he couldn't deny. Madara bit his lip as he eyed the journal. He should have burned the stupid thing.

"Give me one more chance. Please, I love you-"

"Stop. Lying."

"It's not a lie!!"

"I can't even trust you-"

He grabbed you and roughly yanked you towards him, making the journal fly to the floor. Your hands pushed against him, trying your best to get him away from you. "I have late-night conversations with the moon, he tells me about the sun, and I tell him about you," Madara whispered, lips ghosting yours in the hopes of reeling you back into his love. Your heart soared at his words, but reality soon crashed down on you as he kissed you sweetly.

This was all fake, it had to have been. He was lying. This was all a lie. Finally finding the strength, you shoved him off of you. His eyes were wide as he watched you gather up your things and storm towards the door. You paused with your hand on the wood, mind reeling as you urged yourself to tell him goodbye. Why was this so hard? "I love you" His whisper snapped you out of it and made the anger replace the sinking feeling in your stomach.

"I will not love a liar. Goodbye Madara"

Your fingers danced along the edge of the flowers the merchant was selling, lips holding a soft smile as you dreamily took in the vibrant colors. "Can I help you?"

The merchant's voice made you jump, your smile faltering as you grew worried that you had annoyed him. A smile formed on his lips at your flustered face. He had heard about the first Hokage's younger sister and how she was always jumpy. He felt terrible for scaring you, but he had to know if it was true. His smile only made you burn in embarrassment; you should just get a flower and leave. Never return.

You hated that everyone knew who you were, thanks to your brothers.

"I'd like to buy one… Ummm…." you trailed off as you looked at the options, finger tapping your chin as you thought about the perfect choice. The merchant found you to be adorable, and as his eyes raked over you, he noticed that one of the flowers matched your outfit perfectly. Excitement filled his system as he saw this as his chance to 'make a move.' He always wanted to fuck royalty.

A teasing smirk grew on his lips as he leaned against the counter and into your personal space. Your e/c eyes flicked to his, narrowing slightly as you tried to figure out what he was doing.

Was he… Hitting on you?

You let out a breathy chuckle before backing up slightly, but you were stopped as he grabbed your arm. "No need to be scared. I know just the perfect flower to compliment your beautiful face" he was smooth, a little too smooth. Something felt off, though. You couldn't deny the sick, twisting feeling in your stomach that he had ulterior motives. Shooting a sheepish smile at him, you pulled your arm from his grasp. "Thank you for the compliment, but I must be going now-"

"Is he bothering you?"

You squeaked at the way Madara appeared out of thin air, arm wrapping around your middle before hauling you back into his chest. The merchant's smirk fell quickly as he moved out of your space. "Madara. No, he's fine."

Your words would have calmed him, but something in them told him you were lying. Was it the tone? The way you shook slightly in his embrace? He didn't know what it was, but instead of calming him, it angered him further. He stepped towards the merchant, but you grabbed him quickly. "Stop. I was, uh, also flirting."

Madara froze, his heart shattering as he processed what you just admitted. It was a lie, and if he had a clear head, he would have known that, but all he heard was truthfulness. The merchant's eyes widened before he smirked. "So you were just playing hard to get? Don't worry. I like girls like that-" the merchant's cocky words got cut off as a scream flew from his lips. Madara had grabbed his collar, practically hauling him over the counter to get closer to him. "You listen here. She's off limits, especially to some peasant like you."

"Same goes for you, Madara." Your tone was bored and unbothered by his actions, but inside, you were mentally begging him to let the poor man go. Madara looked at you over his shoulder, eyes blazing red as he bit back the anger towards you. He could be mad and spiteful to everyone around you, but not at you. Never at you.

"Take that back-"

"No." You stated simply, arms crossing over one another as you tap your foot. "Now let the poor man go so I can get a flower." Madara let out a huff before shoving the man back into the stand. He stumbled, almost knocking over expensive vases that he surely worked hard to buy.

Madara snatched up a yellow flower before flinging money at the man, "Keep the change" You rolled your eyes at his childish words, but your mood quickly shifted as he turned and grabbed your wrist. "Hey! What do you think you're doing!!" Passerbys watched motionless as you, the Hokage's sister, was dragged through the market by the Uchiha clan leader. They knew about his temper, so no one tried to stop him.

You two reached a section away from the people, leaving you with a furious Uchiha gripping tightly onto a flower. "Honestly, what is wrong with you!? Why can't you see that I don't love-"

"Shut up"

Your mouth dropped in disbelief, and all you saw was red. How dare he talk to you like this. After everything he's done, he had no right to speak to you in such a manner. "I hate you."

The words came out before you could stop them, and you were hoping he didn't hear you. But you knew he did. The flower's stem snapped between his fingers, making you flinch from the action. It was fragile, easy to break. And so were you. If he wanted to, he could kill you. That thought alone had you wishing your brother was here. But you were alone with a very upset and unstable Uchiha.

"God dammit. You made me ruin your flower" His red eyes faded to black, his anger being replaced with sadness. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the disheveled yellow flower. You didn't think it was for you, but looking down at your yellow sundress made you realize it was indeed for you. "Madara-"

"I love you. Why can't you see the pain I'm in? Why can't you see I love you?!"

His voice cracked, tears brimming his lash line as he once again tried to ignore the immense amount of love he felt for you. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was. "Please. Please just give me another chance. I'll show you that I mean it, that I do truly love you" Your pulse began to quicken with worry as he broke down before you; this wasn't like him. This was very out of character. Madara didn't beg; he took what was his. And in a way, seeing him beg made you feel better. You weren't some trophy he wanted to display on a shelf. You weren't something he had to acquire. You were more, much more to him.

But you couldn't trust him fully, not yet, at least. "You get three dates. If after three dates I still don't trust you, you have to leave me alone. If I go with you, Madara, I'll lose my clan." His dark eyes locked with yours before nodding at that. It was something. It wasn't what he wanted, but he would try and show you on those three dates that you were his moon and stars. Without you, he was lost in the dark. He didn't mean to fall in love.

But he wouldn't change a thing.

#madara uchiha imagine #madara imagine #madara uchiha imagines #madara imagines #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #naruto #madara #fanfiction

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xjulixred45x · 1 year ago

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Heyyyyyyyyyy! I was wondering if I could request a grounding scenario with Yan!Big Bro Gojo x Reader!Little Sister (probably 14-17 age range for Reader).

The situation:

They live together and he’s raising her seeing as there’s a bit of an age gap between them. She misbehaves and breaks a few of his rules because she’s in a teenage rebellion phase. He gets fed up with trying to be patient with her and gets to a breaking point where a grounding punishment turns into pure isolation and hell for Reader.

If this isn’t your regular type of request, I understand. Love ya so much, homie! Take care of yourself. 🖤🖤🖤🤘🤘🤘

First of all, thank you! I will take care as much as i can :3

And second: YEEEEESSS PLATONIC YANDERE!!! And Gojo again, this is gonna be SCARY!

Platonic Yandere Satoru Gojo x Teenage! Reader: Grounding

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: PLATONIC YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ISOLATION, UNHEALTY MINDSET, MANIPULATION, GENERAL YANDERE BEHAVIOR, mental consequences of isolation, reader is a teen, i think is all.

a little context.

You and Satoru have a considerable age difference. and a considerable POWER difference. But it's the only thing you've known since you were kids.

You grew accustomed to his antics, his monstrous ego, but also his ridiculous rules.

I mean, you knew that it was normal to live overprotected because the Gojo clan, but especially Satoru, had many enemies, you could tolerate that. Not being okay, but you could accepted it.

But the older you got, the more ridiculous other things your brother made you do became annoy.

For example, never train, never try to improve on your own, his excuse? "You don't need it, I'm the strongest, why should you be strong?" In general being a full of himself asshole.

not being able to go out on your own without him, SPECIFICALLY HIM, which was becoming an uncomfortable thing, how much more did you want to have your own privacy and, well, you know, YOUR OWN LIFE APART FROM HIM. But I would come out with some manipulative shit.

"Why don't you want to be with your brother who loves you so much? Do you hate me?" things like that.

Not to mention he was super clingy. and no respect for personal space or your comfort, always treating you like a damn baby "who's my little baby sis? You're gonna stay with me forever Right? So i can watch over you"

Truth being told, you love your brother, but you HATE the way he always look down to you. You were FED UP of all of his ridiculous rules and stupid games.

So, when you were of the age to enter Jujustu Academy, you saw an opportunity, whether it was to prove to yourself or your brother your independence, it didn't matter, it was something you couldn't miss.

You began to reveal yourself, at first smaller things like talking back to Satoru when he said something too sweet for your taste or when he infantilized you.

Then do something more bolder like snap at him saying you were NOT a baby anymore, that you GROW UP and he NEEDED to see that you are not his "baby little sis" anymore. You give him an ultimátum.

To say that Satoru was surprised was an understatement, he even seemed a little hurt. but obviously I don't take it very seriously. as usual.

He thought you were simply trying to liven things up and he allowed it, he tried to be patient with you since you were in that special stage where teenage girls revealed themselves to their families.

Satoru thought that this was only temporary and even fun.

at first.

because then you started to gain confidence in doing things behind his back like training on your own, which, okay, he could TOLERATE it only because you stopped as soon as he came back and he had your full individual attention again, but he felt the change in your damn energy.

how you were getting stronger and more confident without him.

and he didn't like it at all.

But I didn't think that deserved a reprimand beyond a scolding or, at most, no sweets after dinner.

Satoru simply loved spoiling you.

He wanted to feel that he was still in control of the situation and OF YOU above all. that when he decided, you would stop all this about not wanting him around, that everything would return to normal.

he should have known better.

because then you started with a more risky step. going outside Gojo's property when he was away.

Again, it was the most difficult so far, not only because of your recent rebellion, everyone was watching you like hawks, but also because of your own fear of the consequences you could have from your brother.

He wouldn't do anything to you if he EVER found out, right? TRUE??

There was a way to find out...

and you did, you left the property and didn't return until two days later.

and it was fucking MAGICAL for you.

finally! being able to go out alone! being able to go where you wanted instead of where Satoru dragged you! being able to eat something other than sweets! IT WAS INCREDIBLE!

And to make matters worse, Satoru didn't return from his mission until about 3 days after you returned, the chances of him knowing were low. and I don't act any different.

You felt like you had gotten away with it.

without knowing it was like that because that's how Satoru wanted it.

I'm not going to lie, he was VERY angry when they informed him that you had run away, how fucking dare you? After everything he did and DOES for you? But since you returned shortly after, he calmed down. Maybe.

His patience was already wearing thin with you. and he felt like at this rate, anything, and I mean seriously, ANYTHING would send him into a spiral.

so you can imagine how he reacted when he saw that you had plans to enroll in Jujustu Tech....

His patience snapped like a stretched rope...

And he knew exactly what he NEEDED to do...

The last thing you remembered before being thrown into this place was how scared you were when you saw Satoru.

It wasn't because you knew why he was after you at that moment, but when you saw his eyes-look, you grew up looking into his eyes, they didn't generate the same type of concern in you as they did for the others. you were never able to see DANGER in them (even if you knew damn well you should have)--

You just...hadn't seen your brother as a danger to you. UNTIL THAT MOMENT.

See how angry he was and how he practically dragged you to wherever you were now, completely in the dark, with nothing to do or apparently not even a place to lie down.

You tried to hit the door that Satoru put you through but it was impossible, it was sealed.

Your own brother had sealed you. in a dark room. Just because you wanted to get rid of him.

You tried to break the surrounding walls, it was futile, again. break the floor? also. and there was no opening.

While you were doing this you were yelling at Satoru, what the hell was on his mind? I had to get you out of there. What was I going to do? Lock you up until you gave in? Has he become fucking crazy?!

It was his plan, yes. Making you "miss him" through isolation.

Maybe that would make you reconsider about the good Big brother you had asshole

and well, isolation never did anyone any good. including you.

You practically had no other distraction than your own mind, you tried to stay sane by doing things like math, or exercise, but they burned out your brain and your body very quickly.

Not to mention that every day due to the lack of exits or sunlight you were becoming physically weaker, which made you rely more on your imagination.

but that wasn't such a good idea.

Before you thought about how you were going to get rid of your brother, how you were going to become a sorceress of your own kind, make friends, learn.

but now everything went down the drain.

and for the person who claims to love you more than anyone else.

yes, you felt like you hated him, but at the same time you were SO desperate for any human interaction at this point. No one was allowed to interact with you to lighten the punishment.

The staff left you food, yes, but they didn't interact with you, which made everything more painful.

You felt like every day was worse. that you were more in your head, reliving the good times with your brother and other members of the clan so as not to fall into madness, but you felt increasingly weaker.

It was even difficult for you to eat at this pace. You would have seriously considered harming yourself if it hadn't been for Satoru changing the cutlery for a spoon-fork...

It's like he's teasing you, keeping an eye on you but not taking you out. as if to say "I'm waiting for you to give up"

and then one day...seeing your thin body, how you haven't bathed in what seems like weeks, and with the possibility of going back to normal and just...forget about this...you do it...you give up .

When Satoru FINALLY gets you out of the place and they go back to State, you're surprised to see the staff drastically cut, but at this point? It doesn't matter much anymore.

as long as Satoru doesn't leave you alone again. let it be so.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request! I hope You enjoy it❤️

#headcanons #fem reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu no kaisen #platonic yandere #platonic gojo #tw yandere #yandere platonic #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru #yandere gojo satoru #tw isolation

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probablyspooky · 2 years ago

Text

Traitor (2010 Predator X Fem! Reader) Pt.3 Final

Its Time girly Pops

Last

"Yes love?", you ask, sitting up from your nest of furs and pelts, your mate slowly lowers himself to you.

"We are leaving...", he mumbled, "This trip was not successful, I was wrong to bring you here, I will take you home, and then come back alone when I can get a second chance"

You sighed, cupping your mates face, giving him a gentle kiss on the armored mask.

"Very well," you agreed, getting up from your nest, packing your items and then eventually getting on the ship and taking off back home.

It was a short trip back, you felt back you had ruined the trip by basically getting kidnapped by the game. Berserker could sense your sadness and promised that when you returned back to the clan, he would have a young one go to Earth and bring you back some nice Earth things, so that you could see some of the things that hail from your home planet. You smiled at this thought and proceeded to snuggle into your mates chest as he sat in the command room.

The return home was uneventful, as you were usually allowed to walk around, the first couple weeks home you weren't feeling so well. Often spending your mornings vomiting outside in the bushes, sleeping till noon, and eating weird foods that were even considered odd in yautja culture.

Berserker got quite nervous when you started getting moody, you never seemed to lash out at him, as you were afraid of upsetting him, but now you were a bit more annoyed at his mating advances, often refusing to go along with him on small hunts.

Worried you may have caught a strong virus, he took you to the clans healers, and the news was wonderful.

You were pregnant.

Your mates mandibles clicked with joy, and he purred into you, his claws grazing over your stomach gently, happy with the news he threw together a hunting party and went off into the local wilderness to find the largest animal he could to serve to you, as per tradition (that I made up).

He returned victorious, slaying the beast and presenting its skull and spine to you. It now hangs over the area where you decided to put your younglings sleeping bed.

Eventually as things go, days become weeks, and weeks become months, soon you were very swollen with child, carrying a yautja pup was very hard on your body, as you progressed you slowly began to slow down, not going out to hunt, you stopped doing chores, tending to be on bedrest more often that usual.

One day, while you were in a heated herbal bath, Berserker came in and joined you, causing the water to swish over a bit, he swayed over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his large hands over your stomach.

"(y/n)", he whispered, taking in a breathe of your hair.

"Yes love?" you ask, turning your head to look at him closer.

"The hunting spot came up again...I wish to go, but I will not go if you find it unacceptable for me to go."

You thought for a moment, as it took so long for him to get the spot for himself the first time, and now here you were ready to pop at any moment. Not wanting to be selfish you agreed that he could go, and that you would be fine.

Watching him, Tusk, and Falcon leave was a little heart breaking, you spent the time alone, thinking of names for the baby, learning to write in their language, and learning how to read their machines, as soon you would have your one communicator bracelet, so that when your mate goes off planet, you could still talk to him while he was gone.

He wasn't gone very long this time, he returned after a few days, you were so happy when you heard the news you waited at the landing dock for him to return. When those ship doors opened, you saw him walk off full of pride, new trophies tied to his belt, mostly human, perhaps he had hunted those humans from before. You ran into his arms, and he hugged you back, taking you up from under your legs, holding you up with his great strength.

"Was the hunt honorable?", you asked, feeling his dreads with your hands.

He carried you back to his home.

"I have many trophies to give to you my mate," he purred, leaving Tusk and Falcon to unload the ship.

But with their arrival back, Tusk and Falcon were sought out by other yautja women, and left the ship unattended, not knowing of what they brought back with them to their home planet.

While the darkness of night overtook the sky, two people stepped off planet, truing not to be scene by the lights coming off of the ship, they quickly scurried to the Jungle Hunters Clan. Taking note of the buildings, they looked around for anyone that would be out of place, something that wouldn't be needed by full blood yautja.

These two humans who have stepped off the ship, were familiar faces that had met you before. Isabelle and Royce, they had snuck onto the ship while your mate was hunting the others, Edwin and Nikolai did not make it, but they did not seem, bothered all that much, their minds were preferably stuck on their own survival.

Quickly scanning the many homes, their eyes landed on the ones that had a set of very small shoes sat outside the door, feet too small for yautja, but big enough for an adult to wear outside to cover the soles of their feet from the spikey ground.

The two of them walked up to the door, and gently pushed it in, not having locks on doors were often common on this planet, as it was dishonorable to attack someone while they were asleep. It was a code of like that many did not dare to cross, as it would bring dishonor upon themselves and their clans.

Walking throughout the halls of the place you called home, Isabelle and Royce walked through the kitchen rea, taking note of the abundance of fruit and veggies, often things yautja do not eat frequently, then walking past a living area where they saw a CD player and some discs of random artists.

"She's definitely here.." Royce whispered, continuing the sweep of the house, his eyes landing on the back room, which its doorway was covered with a large cloth.

Royce took a few moments to sneak up to the curtain, slowly pupping it back. In the middle of the room he could see the floating nest where Berserker and you slept. The two forms sleeping away peacefully on the bed, you curled up in his arms, while his limbs danged off the sides of the nest, hovering in the air.

Royce raised his hand above your mouth about to wake you up and smother your gasp, but Isabelle quickly ran up and stopped him

"What?", he whispered, annoyed that he was stopped.

"Look at her!" Isabelle, gestured to your body, "She's pregnant! This isn't a good idea"

Royce rolled his eyes, going back to his original plans, smothering his hand over your mouth and then tapping you awake.

You jolted awake, about to scream, but you felt a warm hand covers your mouth. You looked over to the owner of the hands owner, you felt tears sting your eyes, realizing the possible predicaments you were in.

Royce signals to you to come on, and slowly eases you off the bed, and out of your mates arms, trying not to wake up, and then sneaking you out of your home, Royce dragged you to the ship and shoved you towards it, pointing a pistol at you.

"Fly us home." he ordered, pointing the gun at you,

"I do-I don't know how to fly," you stammered

"Bullshit" he snarled, pushing you inside the ship and then forcing you into the pilots seat.

You felt uneasy as you were placed in the captains chair, the familiar hologram screen appearing before you, you slowly began to type into the control console, hitting enter.

Royce looked at you expectantly, watching you push buttons with symbols that didn't make sense to him at all, watching you hit the enter key, hoping that soon the ship would take off and they would be on their way way home. Yet nothing happened.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled, shoving your shoulder

"I don't know how to fly!" you cried,

"Royce, c'mon" Isabelle remarked, placing hand on your shoulder

Royce stomped back and forth, and looking out the open door of the ship, he began to see lights turn on, as yautja began to run towards the ship, his brain clicked.

Grabbing you by the hair, he dragged you to the front of the doors and threw you on the ground, you fell to the ground shielding your stomach from the fall.

"She fucking alerted them" Royce growled, pointing the pistol at the back of your head.

You looked up to see Berserker run at you, behind him Tusk and Falcon followed, along with other blooded members of the tribe.

Royce fired a warning shot a few inches away from your head, forcing all the yautja to stop in their tracks.

"Fucking traitor to your race," Royce spit at you, looking up at the yautja who were staring him down.

"I want to go home!," he shouted, "If I don't get to go home, neither does she"

You half expected for Berserker to have some sort of plan in dealing with this, but instead he slowly popped off his armored helmet, dropped his utilities belt, and walked up slowly towards the three of you. Isabelle had her gun pointed at your mate the whole time.

Clicking can be heard coming from your mates mandibles, as he pointed towards the captains chair, he calmly walked onto the ship, and silently typed on the keyboard, the rumbling of the ship started, indicating it was taking off.

Berserker then walked back, and picked you up slowly, not taking his eyes off of Royce and Isabelle. The ships door began to slowly shut, and since their window was closing, the two of them quickly hopped aboard the ship, and it slowly made its way off of the ground, and then eventually was floating through the air. Its thrusters slowly increasing in power.

As the thrusters began to glow a bright orange, your mate held his arm out in front of you, a single symbol was on his wrist brand, you looked at him and then at the ship. Smiling while doing so, you pushed the button, and together you watched the ship prepare are for takeoff, and then self detonate in the sky.

The clan erupted with roars and growls, chanting at the death of these humans who dared try and hold you hostage on their turf.

A part of you felt bad, you had just murdered the nicest human you've ever known, the first few humans you had met who had actually been to earth. Maybe you were a traitor to your race, but you were reassured, as the next days you found yourself in labor, and after that, you held close to your chest a small suckling, who was identical to his father.

Having his wrapped to your chest constantly apparently was a weird sight, as most mother of yautja did not care for their children the same way you did, but you didn't care, as your instincts were different, you were different.

He was the Berserker predator, and you his mate, the two of you from different sides of the planet.

One a grand warrior to his people and his race, and the other a loving mother, traitor to hers.

They were happy

I don't know what else to put here

#predator #predator x reader #yautja

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

Text

Second Chances - Neteyam x Omatikaya!Reader

summary: y/n and lo'ak were destined to be together, or so she thought... after moving to awa'atlu with the sully's, lo'ak starts to fall for a certain metkayina girl, leaving y/n completely heartbroken. it is unexpected when neteyam, who has been secretly harboring feelings for her, decides to tend to her wounds. can y/n reciprocate his love?

wc: 9,6k

contains: angst, sort of love-triangle (lo'ak - y/n - neteyam), childhood friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: based on this idea i had a while ago, so i'm finally getting to sharing it with you! if you are a lo'ak girlie, this is probably not for you haha. please don't forget to show some love in form of replies or reblogs (it is really devastating when you work on a 10k fic and only get 8 comments)

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Bonds could be formed before Eywa, but they could also be broken. That was the law. Hearts that once beat as one could grow apart, it didn't always last. It was rare, but it happened. You understood this, as did Lo'ak, who knew it firsthand, growing up with the love story of his parents. But the two of you had never expected that it could happen to you someday.

You often thought back to your life in the forest, where even amidst the ongoing war, things seemed to be much calmer and peaceful than they were now, within the reef clan. The instability and uncertainty, the risk of clan members never returning, the frequency of grieving ceremonies, everything seemed unimportant, when you had one sure thing in your life - Lo’ak. He had been your unwavering rock, the only one who could see through you, see you. Until he didn’t.

Since the day you burst into Sully's home at the age of seven, with your mother trailing behind to prevent you from disturbing Toruk Makto's family, it was clear that you and Lo'ak were two pieces of the same soul. It was always trouble when it came down to the two of you, sneaking out, and stealing everything that could be turned into a game, coming home covered in dirt and debris. Your parents often joked that you were like a mirror held up to Lo’ak: he was the instigator, and you were the tail. It was mostly Lo’ak initiating the trouble, but you were always right there with him, egging him on. You couldn’t help it, you loved the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, and the way he held you in his embrace, chest vibrating with the sounds of deep laughter, when you got yourselves into sticky situations.

Soon enough, the whole clan could see that a strong bond was starting to form between two souls so alike, it was almost uncanny. The two of you felt it too. Every angry scolding from his father was yours to take as well, every injury and scar on his body was mimicked on yours, every loving gaze and touch of his mother was shared with you. The Sully’s became like a second family to you, and it was only a matter of time before you would officially be one of them. So, when they made the difficult decision to leave the clan and seek refuge in a foreign land, your parents reluctantly had to let you go with them, knowing that you were meant to be with Toruk Makto's son.

But now, whenever he looked at you, Lo’ak felt guilty. His heart filled with sorrow for the days when all that mattered to him was you - the smile that was plastered on your face when you greeted him, the warm gaze you casted upon him when he needed reassurance, the gentle touch of your fingers intertwined with his when words failed to express how he felt. It was no longer the same, his mind distracted by a thought more exciting. Unintentionally, really, if anything he tried his best to fight the pull towards the Metkayina tsakarem. He couldn’t explain it to soothe the pain, he just felt it. Like he had been guided to her by Eywa herself.

The doubts were suffocating you from the inside out at first, but you tried to ignore it. Lo’ak would never hurt you, he was only friendly to learn from Tsireya, so that he wouldn’t be a disappointment in his father’s eyes. When the clan had started to point out their friendship, and you heard gossip about the tsakarem finding her mate, you swallowed your pride and carried on, pretending that it didn’t bother you.

But when you watched them, you could see it clearly. They fit like two pieces of the same puzzle. Lo’ak brought in the thrill, in return, she grounded him. Bonds can be broken sometimes, you knew it. Tsireya seemed to know that too.

You had noticed the signs, but when he finally confirmed your worst fears, it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. It hurt your throat when you accused him, simultaneously feeling cruel for pointing out things you were hoping he could explain. But he didn’t deny it, the day he sat you down in a clearing, too similar to the one back home, and told you it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was the law of Eywa.

"I still care about you, I always will," he tried cupping your cheek with the same caress he used to preserve for you only, eyes glistening with tears.

"You promised," you hissed angrily, pushing him away, “You promised, and I believed you."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lo’ak dragged himself through the sand, his feet stumbling over stones, as he replayed the bits of your argument in his head. He couldn’t shake off the image of your face, the way you looked at him with so much anger and pain, it was almost like you were a different person. He never thought that there would be a day in his life when you would look at him with such disdain. If he could only change the way he felt but he was torn between his promise to you and his feelings for Tsireya, and he didn’t know what to do.

He had been walking aimlessly around the island for hours after you had demanded that he left you alone, and with the night growing darker, he dreaded going back home to avoid running into you. He took a deep sigh, approaching the family marui, the hopes of having his family already asleep immediately crashing, when a faint light glowed from within. Lo’ak really wasn’t in the mood for getting scolded.

“Where were you, boy?” Jake asked harshly, but there was a hint of concern evident in his face, as he began to quickly examine his son for signs of injury.

“Just…out, I got carried away,” Lo’ak mumbled, fumbling out of Jake’s grasp.

“Lo’ak, where is Y/N?” Neytiri’s voice followed, her worry barely concealed.

Lo’ak’s eyes darted around the pod - his siblings were there, but you weren’t. He swallowed nervously, under the weight of his family's scrutinizing stares.

“She didn’t come home?” he asked.

“She was with you, what do you mean?” Neteyam spoke up, confused.

Lo’ak’s stomach churned with anxiety; you were still out there, on an unfamiliar island, all alone. Alone because he had left you there.

“She was but we… we had a fight, and she didn’t want to see me,” Lo’ak admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, “I thought she’d be home by now, that’s why I stayed out so late.”

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Jake hissed, “You do not leave your mate alone in an unknown setting when it’s dark out. It’s not too hard to figure out.”

Lo’ak hung his head in shame, deciding against defending himself, as there was no point in doing so. He stood there, weighed down by his own guilt, when Neytiri's gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He looked up at her, seeing the concern etched on her face. You were like a daughter to Neytiri, and she couldn't wait for the day you were going to be one of hers, so the growing distance between you and Lo’ak worried her.

Jake leapt into action, grabbing his flying gear, with Neteyam following closely behind. The older brother couldn’t help but feel bad for not bringing up your absence earlier. He should have trusted his gut that something was wrong and had gone after you hours ago. Should have known that Lo’ak would find a way to mess it up.

“I’ll come with you, dad,” Lo’ak stated but Jake’s face hardened at the mere suggestion.

“You have done enough.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Now every time when Neteyam went to sleep, he often thought back to the night he found you. His eyes would linger on the corner of the marui, half-expecting to find you there, deep in your sleep, only to be met with the image of your empty mat.

He was flying over the island on his ikran then, when he spotted a small figure, hidden in the thick greenery of Awa'atlu. He mumbled something to his father through the wired necklace, before diving down.

You were lost in a sea of tears, so consumed by your own grief that you didn't even notice when Neteyam landed next to you with a gust of wind. It was only when he pulled you into an embrace that you felt yourself melting into him, a deeper pain forming in your chest and suffocating you from within. Your whole body shook with the force of your sobs, and you clung to Neteyam desperately, imagining that it was Lo’ak, who had returned to tell you it was just a stupid joke.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he asked gently, but you shook your head desperately at that, forgetting to breathe in between your whimpers, “Y/N, you need to breathe.”

Neteyam pursed his lips together, raising his fingers to his necklace, when he heard his father’s voice on the other end.

“No, sir, she is not injured. But she doesn’t want to come home,” he fell silent for a moment before continuing, “I will make sure she is okay, you can trust me.”

As you started to feel more and more exhausted and began dozing off, Neteyam lifted you gently into his arms and flew you back home. He was grateful that you were asleep and spared from having to face the worried looks on his family's faces. He was especially relieved that you didn't have to see Lo'ak.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lo'ak did not miss the way his chest tightened with ache, when you passed by him and lowered yourself on the other side of the circle, your eyes fixed on the ground, barely holding yourself composed during the shared lessons. His lingering gazes were miserable taunts because they meant nothing when you saw him struggle to breathe with Tsireya's palms resting on his chest. His questions to you hung unanswered in the air, as purposefully ignored him.

"Hey, would you like to practice with me? I think I'm losing my focus easily," Neteyam nudged your shoulder.

"Sure," you mumbled with a mixture of irritation and gratitude.

Neteyam was older than you, exuding maturity and confidence in everything he did and everywhere he went. It was no different in Awa’atlu, even when the weight of his responsibilities shifted drastically, he was still prioritizing others. Unlike Lo’ak, who usually cared for you only, Neteyam's range of care extended far beyond that. So you saw right through him trying to take you under his wing, when you no longer had someone to pair up with. He wanted to be the helping shoulder for you.

It was complicated. You had left your whole life behind with only one certainty, and now that you had lost it, you were entirely alone among people who saw you as a weakling and pitied you for your broken heart. You would be lying if you said you didn’t contemplate sneaking out on your ikran one night and returning home, pretending as though you didn't like your new life and that you were no longer in love with Lo'ak. But the idea of your clan looking down at you too made your chest swell even more. You were stuck. Lo'ak left you stuck all by yourself, and he was no longer there to reach out his hand to you and pull you out of the trap. Because this time he himself had set the trap for you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I just feel silly sometimes... I knew it was possible but I didn't think it could happen to us," you confessed with a deep sigh, avoiding the amber eyes fixed on you, "I always relied on him for everything, but now I feel alone. Completely alone."

Neteyam watched you with curiosity, discovering a side of you that was previously closed off to him. Perceiving him as an older brother sometimes put a boundary between you and him, blurring Neteyam into the background. He was like an extension to Lo’ak, never granted the same privilege of knowing you until now. Neteyam’s eyes lingered on your quivering lips, recognizing the same brave face his brother often put on to avoid showing vulnerability. He felt cruel and selfish for savoring this moment of you opening up to him. Not to Lo’ak, to him.

"He is a skxawng," he growled, trying to offer some support in the form of anger.

"Yeah, he is," you agreed with a small chuckle, despite both of you knowing that it wasn't really Lo'ak's fault.

You fell quiet again, your back leaning against the tree, fingers wandering in the fresh grass underneath you. Neteyam watched you intently, wondering about what was going on in your mind. He grew tense, struggling to guess, but you were difficult to read, your countenance rarely altering. His patience ran out, and his reserve crumbled as he blurted out with a pleading voice.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you replied, looking up at him hesitantly before revealing your secret, "Just… when it gets too difficult, I like to imagine flying far away from here.”

"W-what?" he stuttered, "You want to leave?"

"I like to imagine that I can," you clarified, “I’m not really considering it, ‘s just a comforting thought, you know? Makes me feel free… like I have all the power over myself."

You could have sworn at that moment that Neteyam let out a relieved breath. It was strange to open up to him, someone whom you had never trusted with your thoughts before. But his usually annoying calmness was suddenly all you needed. He didn't judge you, didn't pity you, like the others.

His family was suffocating you with love to overcompensate for Lo'ak’s inability to give it to you anymore, and for some reason, it made you resentful. So you asked for a separate marui where you could stay by yourself for the time being. You often avoided them in public and stayed close to Rotxo during your lessons, ignoring the conversations Kiri tried to pursue with you. Eventually, the Sully’s started to give you space, everyone except for Neteyam. He was persistent, asking you to pair up with him during the lessons under the excuse that he was failing, and you were ‘so quick to learn.’ Challenged you to accompany him on walks because he needed a trained warrior to look out for him. You saw right through his acts of kindness but your heart longed for company, and he was always there, basically pleading you to join him. So you did.

Short and harsh replies eventually grew into longer chats into deep conversations, with him mostly doing all the listening and agreeing, as you complained. You tried to avoid talking about Lo'ak, but sometimes you would let slip a small detail or two, throwing a piece of your soul at Neteyam and quickly closing off. He didn't mind it though, because every time you pushed him away, you opened up a little more the next time.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Stop staring. I get it, you’re mad at me,” Lo'ak rolled his eyes at his brother before hanging his head again.

“I am not mad at you,” Neteyam replied, watching with a keen eye as Lo'ak proceeded to clean the fish.

“Sure, just like everybody else isn’t,” Lo’ak huffed under his breath with slight annoyance.

Lo'ak found it increasingly difficult to face the reality when spending time with his family. Your absence had disrupted the usual balance, leaving him to endure their gnawing, judgmental stares by himself. They refrained from commenting, knowing that it wasn't a matter of discipline, it was a matter of the heart. But the silence was worse - Lo’ak would have preferred hours of lectures from his parents and bickering with his siblings instead. He especially dreaded spending time with his brother, who always stood next to him like a figure of justice, so proper and goody-two-shoes. It drove Lo'ak insane.

“I think you should talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to Y/N?” Lo’ak’s eyes snapped back at Neteyam in bewilderment.

Lo’ak wasn’t naive. Of course he had noticed the way his older brother tried to fix the situation, coax you out of your shell and bring you back into the world. He felt agonized that once again Neteyam had to stand in for him, clean up his mess. But he couldn’t be angry this time because he knew he was helpless.

“No way, she hates me right now,” Lo’ak shook his head, “She will probably despise me for the rest of my life. Not that I don’t deserve it…”

“You underestimate her,” Neteyam spoke calmly, “But she can’t move on until she gets her closure.”

“Closure?”

“You owe her that much,” Neteyam patted his brother’s shoulder, standing up.

Lo’ak sighed heavily as his brother’s words sank in. He knew that Neteyam was right; he did owe you that much. And he couldn’t just pretend like you never existed and move on with another girl without at least trying to make amends with you first. You deserved to know that he didn’t lie to you, it just happened. Lo’ak continued to clean the fish in silence, already trying to come up with a way to approach you.

“I’m going to check on her,” Neteyam said, grabbing his spear, “When you’re ready, you know where to find us.”

Lo’ak nodded absentmindedly, still lost in his own turmoil.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“See? I’m telling you, it is like the water here is way slippier than back home,” Neteyam joked, as his spear poked through nothing, the fish he had been preying on swimming away.

You laughed at his attempt, knowing well that he was only pretending to struggle. Back home, Neteyam was known for being great with weapons, especially spears, even though your clan rarely used them, having preferred bows and arrows. You gripped your spear, fixing your stance and focusing on catching a fish; the anger you felt towards Lo’ak in the past weeks had driven you towards excelling in your lessons and improving your skills. With a quick thrust of your weapon, you successfully pierced through a fish and brought it close to examine. Fighting for its life, the fish flopped around on the tip of your spear, splashing water onto Neteyam. You laughed as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the burning of the salty water, and shoved the spear towards you instead.

“Stop, Neteyam!” you yelled out, trying to push it away from you, “I’m going to smell of fish!”

“You already smell like one,” he laughed.

Your fingers reached for the fish, pulling it off the tip gently and tossing it into the bucket next to you. Neteyam stood leaning on his spear, watching you with a small smile.

“What?” you grumbled.

“Nothing,” he shrugged.

“Stop staring, you look like a freak.”

"Tell me something I don't know," he rolled his eyes, and you felt a twinge of guilt.

Freak. It slipped out of you without much thought, but it was one of the silly nicknames that Neteyam and his siblings were called since their arrival to Awa’atlu. You felt bad, as you had it easier than them in those moments, seeming to be the most ‘normal’ to the Metkayina. But Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at your words, like he was already used to it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that,” you reached out to touch his arm.

“It’s okay,” his eyes lingered on your hand before meeting your gaze with a softened expression, “You’ll have to try harder to offend me next time.” “Oh, you’re such a skxawng,” you playfully shoved him.

You laughed, as Neteyam stumbled back, losing his grip on his spear and falling onto his bottom with a splash. He started splashing you in retaliation, squeals and laughter filling out the air, as you let yourself get distracted from the usual gloominess that hung above you. That is until you heard him call out your name. Lo’ak.

You could feel the hairs on your back stand up, your spine straightening instinctively at the sound of his voice. Neteyam threw you a sympathetic look, as you turned around to catch the sight of Lo’ak, standing not too far from you.

“Can we please talk?” he asked.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself meet Lo’ak head-on, feeling as if something stirred within you. His face twisted under your stare, the apple in his throat wobbling, waiting for you to respond. Instead of granting him a verbal response, you shook your head and reached for the bucket handle to get away from there as fast as you could.

“He means well,” Neteyam covered your hand with his.

“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” you gritted through your teeth.

“I’m sorry, I just think you should talk,” Neteyam pleaded with you, “Please.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, letting him take the bucket out of your grip.

“Just trust me on this.”

You felt the anger vanish when you looked at him, his sincerity seeping through your defenses. It wasn’t hard to trust Neteyam, after all, he never made promises he couldn’t keep. You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before slowly turning to face Lo'ak. Neteyam let his palm linger on the small of your back before brushing past you to leave you two alone.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Well, are you going to thank me or kill me?” Neteyam asked playfully but there was obvious tension in his stance.

“Neither,” you rolled your eyes at him, ignoring that small fleeting feeling of gratitude you felt.

He didn’t see you for almost a day after your conversation with Lo’ak, and frankly, he had been going a little insane over it. It seemed like Lo’ak and you were gone for ages, since he only caught a glimpse of his brother right before he went to bed. After leaving you to talk, Neteyam struggled to distract himself with a swimming practice, but quickly grew tired of it and trailed back to the place where he left you. He kicked the sand around in annoyance when he didn’t find you there, assuming that you moved to a more private place instead. He wondered if he had unwittingly pushed you back into Lo’ak's arms, and the thought made him feel sick to his stomach. It was probably wrong to secretly root for his brother and Tsireya to make it, but he couldn't help himself.

A small crush on you had started to grow in Neteyam's chest a long time ago, though he wasn't exactly sure when. Then suddenly, it had bloomed into a feeling so intense that it filled his lungs and made it hard to breathe. Whenever he saw the warmth in your eyes that was reserved only for Lo’ak, he would quickly look away, shaking his head to force himself to focus on something else. He often wondered if he had misunderstood his own feelings and was just happy that his brother had someone like you to rely on. It was too embarrassing to admit to his crush anyway, since he had been suppressing it for far too long now. Neteyam decided it was best to simply ignore it.

“I still kind of hate him but I don’t want to kill him anymore,” you tried to joke but it came out rather lame.

Neteyam winced at your words, but his expression softened into a grin soon after. You weren't one to joke around him often, but when you did, he found you amusing. It was nice to know that you could make the-always-serious Neteyam laugh.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam was the connecting link between you and his family, frankly, he considered you a part of his family for some time now. So when he begged you to join them for the evening, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse. It had been over a month since you distanced yourself from the Sully’s and moved out, and they were still having a hard time getting used to it. Neytiri and Jake, who tried talking to you during this time, felt particularly guilty for uprooting you and failing to keep you happy after promising to your parents that they would take care of you. You still saw the siblings more often, during your lessons, but it wasn't the same as it used to be. You weren't as close as you once were.

"Lo'ak won't even be home to make it awkward," Neteyam repeated, almost dragging you back home with him. "I'll take care of you."

It will be like the old times, he promised, except no one would mention your relationship with Lo'ak. But even without his warnings, his family knew better than to bring it up, as they didn't want to scare you away. Besides, he was getting irritated with his sisters' constant chatter about you. Or at least, that’s what he told you. You rolled your eyes, and you whined, and you almost broke your fingers trying to pull away from his grip, when you neared the family pod. Then it all came rushing back.

Neteyam's family couldn't help but feel a surge of love for him when they saw him bring you into their home. It had been a while since you had been there, and Neytiri was thrilled to see you opening up again. As they greeted you, Jake made a mental note to question his son later and find out how he managed to convince you to come. His sisters also couldn't hide their excitement as they beamed at you, though it felt just a little uncomfortable. His parents were visibly relieved to finally see you around, as, during all this time, they had been relying on Neteyam to check on you and make sure you were taking care of yourself.

You fidgeted in your seat, the tension in the room suffocating you. The breakup had taken a toll on you, and everyone knew it. But just as your anxiety was about to consume you, you felt Neteyam's hand sneak behind your back and touch your hand. Your fingers intertwined with his instantly, bringing you a piece of mind. It felt like everything was falling back into its place with him next to you.

Neytiri and Jake exchanged knowing glances, watching you chat with their kids animatedly, as the evening went on. Neteyam couldn’t peel his eyes off you, and it was so clear to them that their older son was more than smitten with you. Over the years, they had seen Neteyam grow into a mature and responsible young man, and they knew that he would make a wonderful partner for someone someday. So, while they felt a little strange about the change from Lo'ak and you to Neteyam and you, for some reason, it worked. Neteyam and you just seemed to fit better together, balance each other out, and they couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you and Lo’ak weren’t meant to be from the start.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re good for her,” Jake concluded, once the dinner was over, reaching forward to pat his son’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need that right now. She needs a friend,” Neteyam mumbled under his breath, hesitant to agree.

“You’ll have to tell her some day, you know?”

“No,” he shook his head, “She will think it is wrong.”

“What is so wrong about falling for someone?” Jake questioned, and Neteyam lowered his ears in defeat.

“It is wrong by the laws of Eywa. Her and I are not meant to be…”

“Neteyam,” his father’s tone softened, “You know that sometimes Eywa can change one's path, don’t you? What may have seemed like the wrong choice yesterday could end up being the only solution tomorrow. Just look at your mom and I. Do you think we're wrong together?”

“No, of course not. You’re perfect, actually…” he frowned under the weight of Jake’s words, “But Y/N, she’s… she doesn’t see me like that.”

“She might if you give it a chance. You need to follow your heart, Neteyam. It’s pure.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You laid on your stomach, chin resting on your hands as you watched Neteyam ponder his next move. The worn-out chess set, with its faded wooden pieces, had been a prized family possession since you and Lo'ak had stolen it from the science lab as children. It was one of the only things that you brought with you from back home to the island - a reminder of your childhood. Recently, Neteyam and you were especially fond of playing chess together.

Jake was proud to teach all of his kids to play the human game, and he enjoyed how much you seemed to like it. It was a small nod to where he came from, and while Neytiri never showed interest in learning it, as it was too foreign to her, she did appreciate the quiet it brought to her home. Sometimes, when the kids would get too tiresome, she would pull out the game and sit them down to play to keep them occupied and silent.

But Neteyam was too silent, almost distracted. He was making moves without his usual careful consideration, his focus absent, like there was something bothering him. It was unlike him to be losing, he rarely lost to anyone.

“Neteyam?” you propped yourself up, feeling the gentle sea breeze blowing through your hair as you addressed him.

“Hm?” he looked up at you, a little startled, as if he had forgotten you were there. "Oh, is it my turn to play?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “But are you okay? You seem distracted.”

"I am okay," he shook his head, shifting to sit up in a crossed-leg position. "I was just thinking."

You mimicked his movements, sensing that he was abandoning the game, ready to talk.

“What is it?” you reached to take his hand in yours.

Neteyam's gaze shifted to your fingers intertwined with his, feeling a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He had started holding your hand whenever he sensed you struggling to open up to him. But now, as you reciprocated the gesture, it warmed his heart, easing him into confessing about the dilemma he was having.

“I… there is something I feel like I need to do but I’m too scared,” he confessed, carefully avoiding any details that might reveal his intentions regarding you, “My dad thinks I should just do it and trust my instincts.”

“Well, what is it? Like hunting underwater or something?” you frowned, slightly confused at his words.

“No, not like that. It’s more about courage…I guess,” he mumbled, already regretting saying that, “‘s hard to decide if I should do it or not.”

“I don’t understand.”

Neteyam's eyes flicked up to meet yours, then quickly looked away again.

"It's nothing, forget I said anything.”

“No, please explain,” you squeezed his hand in yours, pleading, “I want to help.”

Neteyam hesitantly reached out and took his king, twirling it between his fingers as he looked back at the board. You observed alongside him, noticing that both of you only had a few pieces left, indicating that the game was coming to a close.

“It’s kind of like chess. I like to think long before making decisions, I plan it out. But this is not a matter of logic, quite honestly… It’s like, I don’t know if I should take the risk and move my king out in the open field, or if I should hold him back and keep him protected. What if I can’t back out and I’m cornered and I lose?”

You watched curiously, as Neteyam put his king back to its usual spot. He glanced up at you again, with uncertainty written all over his face.

"It's a tough decision, you know?” he continued tentatively, “Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of the board, unable to move forward because I don't want to make a mistake. Do you ever feel that way?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” you nodded slowly, meeting his searching gaze, “But sometimes you just have to take the risk. Things don’t always work out in your favor, no matter how much you plan it.”

“But what if you lose?”

“You can’t avoid it. Sometimes you just do,” you said, your voice faltering as you recalled your recent loss of Lo'ak, “But hey, if the worst does happen, at least you will know that it's over and you won't have to go through it again. In a weird way, it's like a relief."

Neteyam nodded with a small smile, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted his king from its spot.

"I think I'm going to take that risk," he said softly, moving his king.

“Good,” you smiled encouragingly.

"I’m... I'm in love with you," Neteyam admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you felt your breath catch in your throat. Was he joking?

"I have been in love with you for a long time,” he continued, words spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably, “I always thought it was wrong because you were with Lo’ak, and I obviously never stood a chance. So I tried to push those feelings away and pretend they didn't exist. But they only grow stronger with each passing day, and I can't hold it in any longer."

You froze, your mind unable to process his words. You never even considered the possibility of Neteyam seeing you that way, he was always like a brother to you.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured, shaking your head slightly, as if trying to shake off a bad dream. “So...all this time...?”

Neteyam nodded silently, his gaze fixed on you. He could sense that the answer he dreaded for so long was beginning to form on your lips, as your consciousness slowly began to return.

“Neteyam, I-I… I don’t know what to say.”

His heart sank at your words, and he looked away, struggling to keep his composure. He had expected this outcome, but it still hurt like a knife in his chest. You didn’t want to hurt him but nothing worthy came to your mind to comfort him, except for an apology. You weren’t even sure why you were apologizing to him, but it felt like a primal urge.

“I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay,” he spoke softly, as if you were the one who needed comfort, “I understand, you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I just… I had no idea…” you stammered, “I value our friendship so much. Neteyam, you have been my rock, you know that.”

He nodded with a forced smile, his heart sinking deeper and deeper in his chest. It was slowly and painfully killing him that you weren’t harsh with him, almost like the pity you took on him stung worse than the actual rejection.

"I hope I didn't lead you on.”

“’s not your fault,” he shook his head, “If you want, things don’t have to change between us. I’ll always be there for you regardless, I just needed to get it off my chest.”

You nodded, both relieved and confused by his suggestion. But the words lingered in the air between you two, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. Deep down, something started to shift within you. All this time. Neteyam was no longer just a friend or Lo’ak’s brother. He was someone who had feelings for you, and that changed everything.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

And despite the promise you made to each other to maintain your friendship, it was difficult to keep it intact. Days passed, and the aftertaste of his confession wouldn't go away, hanging in the silence that had often replaced your usual easy banter. Every interaction felt weighed down by an unspoken tension, every walk you took together, every lesson where you paired up was now filled with underlying discomfort. Neteyam tried his best to ignore the pain consuming all of his being, though he was taunted by your mere presence. But he made a promise to be there for you, and he was determined to keep it.

You were flustered too. Small touches and looks seemed to hold a different meaning now, making you question the way you behaved around each other. Was it an accident how his hand lingered on the small of your back or the nervous swish of his tail when you approached him. Were you leading him on? Forcing to spend time with you only because you needed him for emotional support.

The thoughts in your head started to outgrow you at times, when you lost sleep recalling Neteyam’s words. He was always like that, his strong and persistent nature showing through everything he did and said. But he was also humble, never getting too cocky and not afraid to ask for help when he needed it. You grew up seeing how Neteyam always put others above him, even though it could hurt him at times. And you felt selfish for taking advantage of that and holding onto his friendship when he desired something more. What if the roles were reversed, and it was you who had confessed your feelings only to be rejected? Would you be able to handle it with the same level of composure that Neteyam had shown? Probably not. You couldn’t do that for Lo’ak.

Your room was filled with the gentle clinking of beads, a soft glow of the last rays of sunset casting a golden hue over the man next to you. Your own hands were holding a string with beads, pretending to work, but it was only a show. Neteyam, who sat in front of you, had been lost in his work, brow furrowed in frustration as the thin thread kept slipping from his fingers. The beads glimmered under the sun, as he added another one, determined to finish the bracelet he promised to give to Tuk before the eclipse. Your eyes darted between his fingers that were deftly working the thread under his skilled touch, and his face, illuminated under the light. His jaw tightened, as he struggled to work with a smaller bead, and you couldn’t help but trace the sharp line with your eyes.

Of course you had known that Neteyam was a beautiful person, it wasn’t like you had a sudden revelation at how attractive he was. Back home, he was winning hearts left and right due to not only his looks, which he took after his mother, but also for possessing the inborn strength of a leader and generally having a great personality. You just never paid attention to him like this before, always considering him to be your friend, a family. But as you stole another glance at him and he caught it with a shy smile, your stomach twisted in a swirl of emotions.

“I think I need to get my eyes checked by Tsahik,” he said with a nervous chuckle, pointing at the bead that had been irritating him for the past minute or so, “I can’t thread this to save my life.”

“Maybe it’s just a tricky one,” you forced a chuckle too to cover up the awkward aftermath of being caught staring at him, “Here, let me help.”

He gratefully accepted your offer, trying not to read too much into the way your hands touched when he passed you the bead. Not that you weren’t nervous under his observing gaze, but you were at least less flustered than he was. So, with a bit of effort, you pushed away all of the thoughts and steadied your hand, managing to lace the thread through the small.

“There you go,” you mumbled, passing the bracelet back to him.

“Thank you,” he nodded with that same shy smile, then pointed at the one you made, laying in your lap, “Do you need help with yours?”

“No, it is done,” you held up your handiwork to him with a grin.

Despite your distraction, you somehow managed to finish your necklace earlier than Neteyam. But considering the size of his fingers and the beads, it wasn’t really a surprise that he was slower than you when it came to crafts. The necklace swayed around in your hand, as Neteyam observed it with attention, trying to understand to whom it was meant to belong. Did you make it for yourself? He hoped you did, as he wouldn’t be able to bear it if you gave it to another man. The colors you used were so familiar though, and Neteyam shook his head to force the thoughts out of his mind; there was no way that you would match the necklace to the beads in his braids. No way, he convinced himself. You watched his face in anticipation, stiffening slightly at the lack of response.

“Well, do you like it?” you scrunched up your nose, feeling a little embarrassed to ask him that. If he liked it enough he would have said so.

“I do, it’s beautiful,” he cleared his throat, eyes snapping back at you, “Is it for anyone in particular or just yourself?”

“Um… I don’t really know, I guess I just made it?" you shrugged, "But if you like it, I can give it to you.”

A contented hum escaped from Neteyam's lips as he admired the necklace, a small glimmer of hope flickering in his heart. The longer he gazed at the brownish and green beads, the more he realized how perfectly it would complement his hair.

As you caught sight of his thoughts, your heart skipped a beat. Had you been so preoccupied with Neteyam that you unconsciously incorporated a piece of him into your creation? The idea of giving it to him warmed your heart, but the thought of others seeing him wear something you made crossed your mind right after. What if they thought it was strange or inappropriate, a necklace crafted by you to match Neteyam's hair?

Just the idea of others assuming anything past friendship between you and Neteyam was scary. You would look pathetic, maybe even revengeful, if you went for the brother of the man who broke your heart. And what would Lo’ak think? Probably that you were only unable to move on from him and hang onto things you could have, like his family. You shook your head in irritation at that. Why should you even care about Lo’ak’s feelings, when he broke off things with you? Frankly, it was silly to even think about it because the possibility of you and Neteyam being together was nonexistent. Or at least, you thought so.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam laid on his mat, staring up at the thatched ceiling of his pod. It was already late, close to the afternoon, and he knew that his family had gone out to begin their chores, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His mind was consumed with thoughts of you instead, the change in your demeanor when he was around. You were nicer to him, more than you usually showed, and he couldn’t figure out if it was because you pitied him or because you were starting to see something else in him. Maybe he was reading into it too much and it was stupid. Really. After all, you had already rejected him once before. He would know if you changed your mind, right?

It took Lo’ak to clear his throat twice to get his brother’s attention. Startled, Neteyam finally looked up to meet his concerned gaze. It was strange to see Neteyam in the bed still, and Lo’ak made a guess that he was feeling ill.

“Are you okay, bro?”

“Yeah…” Neteyam sighed.

Lo’ak hesitated for a moment before walking closer and sitting down on the verge of his mat.

“Do you want to talk or something?”

Neteyam sighed again and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He knew that he would have to tell Lo’ak eventually, and there was no point in beating around the bush. Still, the fear of putting a crack in their relationship made him reluctant to share.

“I just want to be honest with you,” he started, noticing a slight curiosity in Lo’ak’s gaze, “Um… it’s about Y/N.”

“What about her?” Lo’ak physically felt his heart skip a beat, his mind already flooded with endless concerns: were you hurt? Did something happen to you?

“I am… in love with her. Have been for some time now… long before we even moved here,” Neteyam admitted with a shaky voice.

He was embarrassed, so much that his ears were burning up like he was on fire. How could he have fallen for his brother's destined mate, his best friend? Out of all people in the world, it had to be you. Eywa worked in mysterious ways sometimes.

Lo’ak’s face fell as the words sank in. The room was silent, as both brothers struggled to find a way to recover from this revelation. The thought of you being with Neteyam made Lo'ak sick to his stomach. His brother. The one who always stood by your side, even when you were with Lo’ak.

“I don’t even know how to react,” Lo’ak admitted, “D-does she know?”

Neteyam nodded silently, watching Lo’ak’s expression change. There was a mixture of emotions rushing to Lo’ak’s head, from guilt to jealousy to confusion. How could Neteyam have fallen for his former mate, take away the only thing that was reserved for Lo’ak only? The lump in his throat grew bigger, suffocating him from within.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam's voice was stern, forcing him back into the conversation, “I didn’t mean to, you out of all people should know that. I would never intentionally do something to upset you.”

It was unfair to be mad at Neteyam. To be mad at you for moving on. Lo’ak took a moment to recompose himself, knowing well he had no right to be upset with either of you. You deserved someone who could give you everything, and Neteyam was just that - perfect. He could give you his whole life, whole heart served on a platter. But then, why did it sting so badly to picture you together?

“Okay, I understand,” Lo’ak finally spoke, the apple in his throat bobbing, “I have no claim over Y/N. She is a free woman now, so she can do whatever she wishes to do… I mean, as long as you make her happy -”

“No, Lo’ak, she rejected me,” Neteyam interrupted, feeling the sudden urge to stop assumptions from escalating, “She said she only saw me as a friend. I just wanted to let you know about how I felt.”

“Oh,” Lo’ak let out. He failed to deliver a humorous joke to ease the tension, “For once in my life, you want something that I have… rather, used to have.”

Neteyam’s expression softened, and he forced a breath out in an attempt to chuckle at that.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The joy of the Tulkun returning sent the whole village into a long night of celebration; the clan members dressed up in their traditional garb, air was filled with rhythmic tunes, and the smell of mouth-watering food. You had never felt more uneasy to be at a celebration, suddenly regretting that you had made no other friends since your arrival to Awa’atlu. And you stood there awkwardly, looking around, when Neteyam had insisted on sitting with him and his family.

But Lo’ak was there, forced by his father to stay close. When he saw you being led by Neteyam’s hand, he felt something bubble in his chest. His family perked at the sight of you, greeting you with their usual smiles, and you shoot Lo’ak a shy look.

“Hey,” he mumbled awkwardly, so low, that his voice was barely registered by his family.

You mouthed it back with a softened gaze, and Lo’ak couldn’t help but smile. It was awkward but it didn’t hang heavily as it usually did when you and he were in a close proximity. Lo’ak felt a slight relief at the fact that you even acknowledged him, though he was convinced a part of it was because of his family being right there. Still, he decided to take it as a win.

Neteyam's tail swished with contentment as he sat close to you, occasionally grazing your back for comfort. You couldn't tell if it was intentional, but with Neteyam, it was hard to gauge how much thought he put into things. Regardless, you felt giddy by his touch.

The conversation between his family slowly started to flow, and you found yourself chuckling at their jokes, feeling as if you belonged again. And when Lo’ak attempted to add to a story about his father's first ride on tsurak, you couldn't help but snort in amusement. He shot you a grateful look for that. Of course, you’d laugh at Lo’ak’s jokes, you had been laughing at them your whole life. You guess, some things never change.

As the night wore on, you were pulled out of the conversation at a distinct melody that filled the space. You took notice of how couples began to shift in their seats, rising to their feet to join the dance. Lo'ak stood up too, clearing his throat awkwardly before he made a way to where the Olo'eyktan and his family sat. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut when you saw Tonowari nod approvingly, and Tsireya rushing to take Lo’ak’s hand and pull him into the dance. You did not miss the way the air left your lungs, as people suddenly started watching you, as if waiting for a reaction. You scooched closer to Neteyam, hanging your head, to hide yourself with your hair.

“You okay?” he asked, staring back angrily at those who looked at you. He stiffened at the thought of you having to go through something like that.

“No, actually,” you chuckled nervously, looking up at him, “It’s like everyone expects me to throw a fit or something.”

Neteyam scrunched up his face at the comment. He looked around one more time before opening up his palm to you.

“Would you like to dance with me? Maybe that will shut them up," he said.

You felt his mother’s eyes on you, as you pondered on the offer. You really weren’t in the mood to dance now, and besides, everyone out there was coupled up.

“I’m not sure it is a good idea,” you mumbled.

Neytiri stood to her feet, pulling Jake with her. She shot you an encouraging smile.

“Come, Y/N, let’s go dance,” she gestured for you to stand up too.

“Yeah, come on girls, you too. Tuk, Kiri,” Jake pitched with a grin, “Sully’s stick together.”

You watched with a smile as the whole family decided to join in on the dancing despite the melody being intended to be just romantic. Neteyam stood too, pulling you by the hand, and really, you had no other option but to give in. His gaze softened, sending your heart into a race, and you followed shyly after him to join the other dancing Na'vi.

As you watched Tsireya and Lo’ak together, memories of your own time with him invaded your mind, but strangely you weren't upset by that, just nostalgic. Neteyam didn't let you dwell on these thoughts for long, as he gently pressed his hands against your waist and led you through the dance. When you looked into his kind eyes, it felt like all of the pain from before had dissipated into thin air. You danced for what felt like hours, surrounded by his family's laughter, and lost in the rhythm. Finally, it felt like things were back to normal, and you could relax, until the night was ruined.

You were taking a break from the dancing, watching the Sully kids goofing around with a fond smile. You had missed seeing them this happy. While back home it was a usual sight, in Awa’atlu, they were rarely this carefree. Ao’nung, in his eagerness to entertain himself, slipped in to stand next to you with a wicked smirk on his lips. It didn’t take him long to reveal his intention of approaching you, as he made a comment vile enough to send shivers down your spine. You wanted to punch him, crawl his eyes out, but all you managed was to scurry away.

Ao’nung’s sweet moment of satisfaction was interrupted abruptly by an aggressive shove. He stumbled backward, eyes widening at the sight of Neteyam.

“What the hell?”

“What did you say to Y/N?” Neteyam exposed his canines, ignoring the looks they were now getting.

“Woah,” Ao’nung smirked knowingly, “Nothing but the truth -”

“Tell me what you told her,” Neteyam shoved him again, this time harder, “Now.”

“Fine, you wanna know?” Ao’nung sneered, “I pointed out how pathetic she is, truly unworthy to live amongst my clan. It’s honestly embarrassing that she couldn’t keep one brother, so she’s now feeding into the pity of the other, in hopes to lock him up.”

“From now on,keep your mouth shut and stay away from Y/N,” Neteyam warned, taking a step closer, his voice dripping with venom, “Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam's heart felt heavy as he caught sight of you. You were in the exact same spot where he found you on that fateful night when Lo'ak shattered your heart into a million pieces. It was all too familiar - the darkness, the quiet sobs that filled the air. His mind flashed back to that night, the memory still fresh in his mind.

As he approached you, Neteyam couldn't help but notice the gentle glow of dozens of atokirinas that surrounded you, like tiny stars grazing your skin in comfort. With a long, heavy sigh, he sat down next to you, forcing you to meet his eyes with your red, puffy ones. The deep sadness started to cloud him, and Neteyam wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to shield you from the cruel words that had been spoken by Ao'nung.

"Ugh, this is pathetic," you chuckled weakly, gesturing at yourself, "How are you going to rescue me every time?"

“I’ll be there as many times as you need me to,” Neteyam replied softly,

Neteyam's heart ached as he watched you avert your gaze and fight back tears. His mind raced, struggling to think of something to say that could ease your pain, so he pulled you into an embrace instead. His hands gently rubbed your back and head, trying to offer comfort as you buried your face into his chest. And the tears came harder than before, louder.

"He told me that no one else would look at me after Lo'ak, because I was pathetic," you sniffled, your voice breaking. "And he is right. Maybe I should just listen to him and leave.”

“Ao’nung is the biggest skxawng on this whole island, don’t you ever believe a single word that comes out of his mouth,” Neteyam said firmly, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes, “I see you, Y/N. You have a big heart, you’re brave and strong-willed, and there is absolutely nothing shameful about being loyal. You hear me?”

Your chest tightened with a flutter at the proximity of Neteyam, and your heart began to race as you found yourself lost in his deep amber eyes. It was getting harder to deny the pull you have felt towards him and have been feeling for the past many weeks, since the confession.

“I just want you to be happy,” he added.

“Being with you makes me happy,” you whispered.

He gulped down nervously, scared that it was yet another thing he’d misinterpret. That you were probably referring to his friendship with you, nothing more. But his cheeks flushed regardless, feeling a soft touch of the atokirinas settling on his shoulders. And as they surrounded the two of you, like a sign from Eywa, you brushed your hand against his chest.

“Neteyam,” you said, your voice dripping like honey to his ears, “There was one thing Ao’nung was right about… I like you,” you admitted.

Your eyes darted between his widened pupils and parted lips, mind clouded with his scent and the warmth of his touch, with the spell of the atokirinas swirling around you, as if they were blessing you. You could feel the way his breath hitched, when you leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, he was afraid it would jump out. You were much more intoxicating than he had imagined, making him want to scream at the top of his lungs. His thumb rubbed gentle circles to the back of your neck, as you relaxed into him more, and fit perfectly into the curve of his body. Like you were made for him.

“I was too blind before,” you pulled away slightly, your lips curling up into a gentle smile.

Neteyam chuckled bitterly, the sound filled with disbelief and self-doubt. His hands found their way to your waist, bringing your body to his lap. He wanted to be sure that you really wanted this, that he didn’t just catch you in the heat of the moment. But his hesitance melted away, when you kissed him again.

“I see you too, Neteyam…”

He had never felt so alive, so happy, so loved.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (also tagging everyone who interacted with the teaser post): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @netemoon @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @kireysiaugustine @crustskullz @dollyplayhouse @jellybeanstacey0519 @itscheybaby @loaksky @n7ytiri @theycallmesia @love-chx @gloryavila @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream

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circus-clangen · 3 days ago

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Hi I’m a new circusclan enjoyer and I am SO confused on what’s happening. Can I get a rundown of the current lore we know? Or like links for me to understand because like who is marquee?? I read the moon updates how do I not know them. Also monkeypaw was only mentioned once I believe? What’s their deal??

You got it! I'm not planning on posting here until I finish the next moon--which most likely wont be until the new year, so it'll be nice to have this sitting at the top of my blog for a while! Here's the official Circusclan Lore rundown, including what happened in the moons, the lost moons, the puzzles, and the 10th ring of HELL that is the discord server: First, the starter cats: Ringstar--previously Ringtail of Heronclan, and brother of @echoes-in-echoclan 's Kestrelstar--and his two kits, Clownpaw and Tigerkit.

The pre-moon events: Ring left his clan and his brother to join the circus and be with a cat he met, named Goldmask. Suffient to say for now, Goldmask's treatment of Ring was less that ideal, but he loved her all the more. They had a son together, Clown. The birth was INCREDIBLY taxing on Goldmask, and almost killed her (detailed here https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/768067551594987520/wait-if-goldmask-wasis-paralyzed-how-did-she?source=share). A little while later, Goldmask became pregnant again. Ring was there when one of the kits was born, and knew it was not his. Goldmask knew she would die in this kitting--she'd barely survived having one kit, and this time, she'd had two. Only, Ring never knew the second one existed, because it's father had stolen it away before Ring could arrive. Goldmask didn't make it, and Ring was left alone in the circus, with Clown and Tiger.

The lost moons: I wasn't intending for Circusclan to become a comic. This, coupled with some technical issues, means moons 1-5 were lost. The technical issues were caused because, around moon 3-4, Tigerkit was taken by an eagle and killed. I wasn't ready for her to die, so I went into the code and brought her back... only, something strange happened. Before her in-game death, she was definitively Ring's favorite child. So much so, that I made jokes about it to my friends. He LOVED her. But after she died--after I brought her back--he hated her. He hated her so *viscerally*. A non-secret about the clangen save behind this comic is that both Ring and Clown's hate stats for Tiger are COMPLETELY maxxed. I knew I had to do something with this lore-wise, which I've detailed here (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/769542088687747072/anything-youre-dying-to-share-3?source=share). Monkeypaw: In a tale I've yet to reveal, Monkeypaw left Heronclan with Ring, but not long after, became the Starclan guide for my clan. The reason you don't see much of him is some lore I've added. There's a lot to it, but the basics of it is that Monkeypaw is only remembered by Ringstar--none of the ever living cats have met him, and so he can't directly interact with him. Unfortunately, Ringstar's connection with Starclan right now is akin to an Internet Explorer browser windows connection to the internet. So, Monkeypaw is a somewhat abstract figure for now. Marquee: Marquee is the father of Tigertoe and the mystery Tigersibling. He's Goldmask's other mate--one Ringstar didn't know existed until Tiger's birth. A staple of Circusclan is the cats affinity for human culture, and their imitation of it. Unknown to them, Marquee was "there first". He's from an almost cultlike group of cats that have been trying to not only imitate, but steal, humanity, for many many years. It's unclear as of now which of his actions are on behalf of this unnamed group, and which are on behalf of his deceased mate Goldmask. Moons 6-14: These moons were drawn when Circusclan was a fun meme project for me to share with my friends. I had no intention of posting it on Tumblr, much less giving it this level of lore. You CAN glean some lore from these wretched posts, but most notable in this era, is the infamous "hide and seek game", in which the player's failure to correctly solve a puzzle (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/746608261062639616/you-have-successfully-determined-that-ringstar?source=share) left Ringstar trapped in a burning caravan--the blaze implied to be set by Marquee. The players decided to let him burn, and he lost five lives. Moons 13-18: By this point, Tigertoe got the patrol event where a secret, outside-clan mate joins the clan: Trapezetangle. Also by this point, an outside-clan apprentice named Whippaw joins. Moon 19: I forgor Moon 20: The Experimental Era of video moons that were SUPER fun to make but took my entire life so I'm not going to be doing them every moon. Some people expressed they weren't comfortable watching a scary video, so the rundown of moon 20 is this: Ringstar died again, and Tigertoe found out she was pregnant. (For a rundown of that whole mess of a puzzle, look here: https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/761426559722782720/i-try-my-best-to-never-explain-my-puzzles-even-if?source=share) Moon 21: Present day! Horrible things are going to happen very soon <3 Present, currently-alive (or dead) characters that we're AWARE of, even if I haven't properly revealed them: Monkeypaw, Ringstar, Tigertoe, Tigersibling, Clownwish, Goldmask, Marquee, Trapezetangle, Whippaw Nicknames you should be aware of for clarity: Dave is Marquee. The discord server will only call him Dave. His name is Marquee. Please help. Hope this helps at least some!

#circusclan #circusclan ask #clangen

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nadas-dirthalen · 2 months ago

Text

I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore

— PART THREE: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]

Welcome, friends and travelers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.

In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.

You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.

Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.

(this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)

Today's Discussion:

So far, we've covered a few things. We know Solas was "born" from (or manifested from) a branch of raw lyrium while he was still connected to a Titan. We know there were hints toward this from across all three previous games, plus a lot of external media. We know his "birth" was initiated/instigated by Mythal.

We also know that there are quite a lot of hints about memory and forgetting across what we've covered so far, from Cole's dialogue to old elvhen lullabies.

But from here, we must ask ourselves: What ARE the Forgotten Ones? And if Solas really IS Titan-born, what does that say about the rest of everything we know about the world of Thedas and its magic?

Why the Titans are the Forgotten Ones

Fen'Harel Walked Between Both Clans of Gods

The Abyss and the Fade

Lyrium: Titans' Blood, Emerald Waters of the Fade

What IS a Spirit, Then?

Solas's Magic: What Was He Born With?

Solas and Petrification

Solas and "Blood" Magic // The Red Lyrium Idol

What Did Solas Absorb at the End of DA:I?

Why the Titans are the Forgotten Ones

Okay. This, I admit, could have been its own post. There is a LOT to cover with just this topic. I was in the midst of outlining such a post when one of my favourite Dragon Age theorycrafters (girltriesgames) came out with this video, which summarizes every point I'd gave gone into at length. Go watch it, if you want the full deep-dive!

For now, I will summarize some of the video's points:

There were two clans of gods, according to Merrill. The first was the Evanuris, and the Forgotten Gods were the second.

Fen'Harel walked among both clans without fear, and both believed he was one of them.

The Forgotten Ones have been "sealed" in the Abyss, which we know is the deep underground from the Descent DLC and other sources such as the Anvil of the Void.

The Forgotten Ones are cited by Merrill and the World of Thedas books as being at war with the Evanuris, namely Mythal and Elgar'nan being at war with four Forgotten Ones; in the Trespasser DLC, it mentions that the Titans were at war with the Evanuris, and slain by Mythal and Elgar'nan.

The Hissing Wastes features codices from ancient dwarves who fled to the surface to escape a war that was ultimately... forgotten, featuring dragons being used as weapons that slaughtered their kin. Obviously an above-ground enemy!

There are countless mentions of the word "Forgotten" around the Titans and dwarves. The Titans have been forgotten. They do not exist in the Memories of Orzammar. The sleeping Titans have forgotten how to wake up.

Cole makes many mentions of forgotten songs in relation to the sleeping Titans and also to the dwarves. Curiously, he even ties these concepts to the Templars, who employ the same magic (according to Cole).

Fen'Harel Walked Between Both Clans of Gods

Once I knew that Solas is made from lyrium and that the Titans are the Forgotten Ones, everything clicked into place for me. The legends say that Fen'Harel walked between both "clans" of gods because each one believed him to be one of their own. That sentence made less sense to me before, because I wondered: how does an elf fool an entire other clan of gods into believing he belongs to them?

Understanding that the Titans are the Forgotten Ones, famously the clan of gods that the Evanuris (namely Mythal and Elgar'nan) warred with... well, it makes sense now, doesn't it? Solas was able to walk between both clans of gods because he DOES have roots in both. Solas is crafted FROM a Titan. Solas BECAME an Evanuris. The Titan would recognize him as one of its own; the Evanuris accept him as one of their own.

This is backed up even further by a piece of Solas's dialogue in The Threat Remains.

"I have journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past of ancient wars both famous and forgotten."

The Titans' existence was struck from Orzammar's Memories. Cole makes endless mentions of forgotten songs, old songs. Beings that are sleeping and don't remember how to wake up. Beings that have forgotten even themselves. Solas refers to dwarves as the severed arm of a once mighty hero.

"Wars both famous and forgotten," therefore, might refer to a war that was famous among the ancient elvhen, but forgotten by the rest of the world. One side takes pride in the mining of lyrium from slain titans. The other is doomed never to know what was lost.

But the question remains: When Solas created the Veil to imprison the Evanuris, what exactly happened to the Titans?

The Abyss and the Fade

To truly understand what happened to the Titans, we must first understand what, exactly, the Veil was making a divide between. We know much of what happened to the Fade: that Solas says it was once a state of nature like the wind, flowing through everything. That now it is mutable and unpredictable, with little in the way of permanence in anything. That it takes the shape of the thoughts and memories of those within it. That magic functions unpredictably within it.

But what about what that meant for the Titans? What happened to them with this split? And, more importantly, what was the Fade in relation to them?

Let's start with what we know about the Titans' domain. Frequently called the Abyss or the Void, the realm of the Titans is below the surface. Yet, in much elvhen literature found in Trespasser, their domain is referred to as the Earth.

I believe, based on the context of those codices, that the Earth and the Abyss are not the same. The Abyss refers to the caverns in the deep underground. The Earth, specifically, is the Titans who live within the Abyss. Earth, in the ancient elvhen, pre-Veil context, may refer to the Titans' bodies—lyrium—while "Pillars of the Earth" refers to the Titans as sentient beings. The Song to Elgar'nan talks about wanting victory over the Earth, capital 'E.'

Though the Chant of Light describes the Void as more a state of being, the ancient elvhen describe it as Andruil's old hunting grounds.

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking the Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss. Yet even a god should not linger there, and each time she entered the Void, Andruil suffered longer and longer periods of madness after returning. Andruil put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn.

The time of Andruil using the Void as her hunting grounds predates the Veil. Overall, we already know much of what this codex implies about the Void: that it is dark, underground, and that there is reason we know of that would send Andruil back with madness (the abundance of raw lyrium and the fact that the Evanuris are mages, plus Andruil's lyrium armor).

What I want to focus on is that the Forgotten Ones were thriving in the Abyss before the Veil went up. They were alive and, ostensibly, able to fight back. They had access to their will and to their consciousness.

That consciousness seems to have disappeared with the creation of the Veil. Let me rephrase.

The Titans lost access to their consciousness with the creation of the Veil. At the same time. And what did the Veil do? What is the SOLE thing it did?

Separated the Fade from the waking world.

A collection of facts, when taken together, lead me to my conclusion about the relationship between the Abyss, the Fade, and the Titans.

The Forgotten Ones (Titans) live in the Abyss

They were conscious and "thriving" before the Veil went up

Cole remarks that they have "forgotten" how to wake up in the time since

No one has memory of the Titans, not even the dwarves

Lyrium is the blood of the Titans

and lyrium grows in the Fade.

Lyrium: Titans' Blood, and the Emerald Waters of the Fade

I think a lot of us (me included) have been thinking about the Fade all wrong. I think a lot of people consider the Fade to be this Other Thing™ that was once a part of the world, and is now separate. Now, I believe differently. I think that the Fade and the Titans were once two pieces of one whole, and creating the Veil effectively sundered all Titans' consciousness from their bodies.

In short: I think the Fade is the Titans' missing consciousness.

That's why I think it is very important not just that Lyrium exists in the Fade, but that it grows there. It implies that the Fade is still alive, just like the Titans are still alive, but asleep.

When Solas says, "I seek... regeneration" in Vows & Vengeance, I think this is what he means: reconnecting these two sundered pieces.

We've always thought as the Fade as the realm of spirits. Those characters who contemplate the Veil being torn down immediately think about how many spirits and demons that might unleash upon Thedas.

But I must ask: If the Fade is the consciousness of sundered Titans, where did the first spirits come from, before the creation of the Veil? What relation could Titans have with spirits?

What IS a Spirit, Then?

I'm sure that I am not alone when I say that my original guess for Solas's origin story is that he was a spirit that took mortal, corporeal shape. We've all heard Cole say, "He did not want a body, but she asked him to come." We all know that the Dread Wolf's six eyes greatly resemble a Pride demon, and we have seen that Solas' Manifestation achievement icon features those same six eyes.

If you're like me, you might've seen that and wondered how exactly this is all related. How can Solas be a spirit of Wisdom turned to Pride if he came from a Titan?

I'm here to tell you: I think those are the same thing.

And the Chant of Light agrees with me.

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity. —Andraste 14:11

Many believe that the well of sorrows and the waters of the Fade must have elemental associations with, well... water. But I'd like to put forth a different interpretation.

Lyrium exists in liquid form, once refined. The Bastion of the Pure in the Descent DLC has a literal underground sea. We know that lyrium is the Titans' blood, growing both in the Abyss and the Fade. We also know that the Fade, domain of spirits, is likely the Titans' sundered consciousness.

The "well of all souls," then, is the same as the "emerald waters." Both of them refer not to water, not to oceans, but to lyrium.

I think every spirit on Thedas, not just the dwarves, came from the Titans originally.

To test the validity of my idea, I then asked myself: what do we know of spirits and their nature?

We know that spirits all boil down to one singular quality: Wisdom, Compassion, Purpose, Love, Justice, etc etc etc.

We know that those qualities can change back and forth from "virtuous" to "demonic" depending on the spirit's own feelings and reactions to the world. The trauma of crossing the Veil or being bound can force Wisdom to become Pride (Solas's personal quest) or Compassion to Rage (Down Among the Dead Men from Tevinter Nights).

Not all spirits are named for "virtues" or "sins." For instance, there are Hunger demons, and hunger is not a sin.

Spirits can be killed outright. When that happens, they may reform, but they are never quite the same when they coalesce again. There are also "ancient spirits" mentioned throughout the franchise, which tells me that not all spirits are the same age. They were not all created at the same time.

Many spirits are mere wisps, without one of those one-word qualities. They must gain power before they take such a shape.

To me, that sounds a lot like how thoughts work.

Our singular thoughts could also be boiled down to singular qualities, if framed in a certain way. For instance, my current craving for food is very much a Hunger thought. My constant joy in reading World of Thedas stems from Curiosity. Terrible traffic conditions inspire fleeting Rage, which changes when I remember my Compassion for other drivers who might be erratic because they're going through an emergency or something traumatic.

People don't remember every single thought they have. The ones that stick with us over time? They remain with us because they are powerful. Stronger memories stick around longer; the rest fade away or become shapeless until we try really hard to remember them again.

But when we do remember things we have forgotten? We never remember them exactly the same, do we? If I remember I thought I had as a child, I have to remember it with the context of my current 30-year-old self. I will never experience the thought exactly as my 5-year-old self did.

As long as I have access to my own consciousness, I will constantly produce new thoughts and memories.

Therefore?

Specifically, I think that all spirits on Thedas are the thoughts of Titans, once either held in lyrium or free to drift through the Fade before the Veil existed. Those spirits may then manifest into a corporeal shape, like Cole does, if they have enough power.

And Solas? Solas is one such thought-spirit, who used to be held in lyrium, who Mythal convinced (or coerced) to take shape.

Which explains a great deal about every type of magic we see him use.

Solas's Magic: What Was He Born With?

Oh, Solas, you beautiful enigma. For so long, we thought of you as an ordinary mage. Then, with the big Fen'Harel reveal and the way you began petrifying people in Trespasser, we thought you were something else.

Mages draw their power from the Fade. It looks like the dwarven magic we're seeing (from Harding, from Valta, from Sandal) draws its power from the Stone, in addition to manipulating it. So what gives? How is Solas able to pull from both schools of magic? Is he a mage? Is he kin with the dwarves?

Now, with all the knowledge we've gained through one singular achievement icon jpeg, I understand: you are both, and you are neither.

We must remember that all ancient elvhen are born in a pre-Veil era. With the knowledge we have, that means an era when the Titans were not sundered from their thoughts, and all magic in the world was one thing. If all spirits are the thoughts of Titans made manifest (either as living concepts or as corporeal beings) and the Fade is just one part of Titans' whole existence, then a world without the Veil is a world where we don't need to think of those magics as two separate things.

Rather, they are both magic, but opposing schools of the same magic. When we think of the four elements here in OUR world, we think of earth and air as opposites—but in a lot of media, magic users have access to both. Often, they are weak to each other, one cancelling out the other.

We see this laid out more clearly in this codex from the Vir Dirthara.

"The unchanging world is delicate: spells of power invite disaster and annihilation. The unchanging world is stubborn: the pull of the earth fiercely resists making fire run like water or stone rise like mist. The unchanging world rings with its own harmony. Listen with fearless hearts, and great works will unfold."

This codex is actively encouraging the magic users of ancient elvhen (AKA, all people from that time) to listen with fearless hearts to the "unchanging world" to exert will over the "pull of the earth." They're not saying to avoid the Titans, or to dominate them with an abundance of their own (Fade) magic. By tapping into the Titans' rhythm, even the magic of the Fade is embellished. Made stronger.

To be alive in that time is to be able to wield both magics interchangeably—but just like Aang in Avatar: the Last Airbender, the pull of the earth is a notoriously difficult thing for "air" (Fade) magic-users to grasp, and vice versa.

(A tiny aside: I believe these discoveries about spirits and magic teach us the distinction between elven and elvhen. The latter translates to "spirit-soul," loosely—the spirits that came out of the Titans. I believe elven refers to the corporeal descendants of those elvhen that sexually reproduced.)

Solas and Petrification

Many of us speculated for a long, long time that Solas's ability to petrify people—an ability associated with Sandal and Harding—was something he took from a dwarven or Titan-aligned source. People speculated that Urthemiel, the archdemon, must be somehow connected to the magic of the Stone.

I have a different theory: Solas has always had this capability, but the power he absorbed from Mythal is what has allowed him to once again perform the magic of the Stone from whence he came.

Maybe utilizing both magics to such a powerful degree (remember his Mind Blast from Trespasser?) requires that a mage be more powerful than most, carrying two "sects" of magic within them and using both in such a great and terrible capacity (like how the Avatar is more powerful than other benders, able to carry multiple elements because of bonding with the spirit of Raava, to continue with my previous example).

Solas and "Blood" Magic // The Red Lyrium Idol

I'll preface this by saying: no, I have no idea why Solas has changed his tune about blood magic in DA:tV. I hope to find out in five days!

I do want to suggest that, for Solas, blood magic might mean something different than it does for everyone else. Solas's blood, while he has taken a corporeal shape almost identical to any other elven person, may not be the same chemical make as the blood of mortals. That might explain why he has not experimented with it much during the time of Inquisition, and might explain why he does not want to use his own blood in DA:tV.

Instead, his blood might be closer to lyrium than we expected. And the red lyrium idol might be HIS idol.

Some of you might remember that way back in part 1, I noted that a hint for Solas's origin from previous games and external media is that, in Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf refers to the red lyrium idol as "my idol" before slaying the Mortalitasi trying to perform a blood magic ritual with it. It confused me, for a long time, why the Dread Wolf (the big wolf form, not necessarily one with Solas) would refer to the idol as "my idol" before actually retrieving it to keep. The explanation seems simple: it was his first.

This makes me wonder, given everything we know, if the idol first belonged to the Dread Wolf because it is made from the Dread Wolf's blood. Since the Dread Wolf is a piece of a Titan, that would make its blood likely at least related to lyrium, right?

Many have also speculated that Solas's ritual dagger, which gets passed on to Rook, is made from a purified/reforged red lyrium idol. Given the blood connection between Rook and Solas, it makes sense to me that if the dagger is indeed made from the blood of the Dread Wolf (and/or Solas), that is why Rook has access to its abilities.

What Did Solas Absorb at the End of DA:I?

I cannot for the life of me find a well-cropped image, but this post on Reddit talks about a designer note from the post-credits scene of DA:I between Solas and Flemeth. Namely that Solas does not take Mythal's soul when he absorbs power from her. Before he absorbs that power, Mythal passes her soul on to Morrigan.

While David Gaider had previously advised fans to not necessarily take this as canon, it seems to be proving true in Morrigan's design change, featuring Flemeth's crown.

That means there are two things Solas may have still absorbed from Mythal, since her soul was already "spoken for."

Raw power

The soul of Urthemiel, the archdragon slain in Origins. This is true in every world state with Kieran, but I would wager that Urthemiel's soul belongs with Mythal in every world state, since Flemeth said she had an "appointment to keep" in the prologue of DA2, which is why she did not travel with Hawke. My guess is she went to Denerim, poking at the remains of the slain archdemon until, 10 years later in Inquisition, she was in possession of Urthemiel's soul no matter what.

We know, however, that archdemons are sundered pieces of the Evanuris. We've been able to suspect this since Inquisition, where we see Corypheus's archdemon is in possession of a piece of his soul and is therefore the secret to his immortality.

I don't think either of this gave Solas access to any new spells. Rather, I think either one (or both!) might have granted him the power necessary to access spells he already knows from both Fade magic and Stone magic.

However, I'd like to touch on just one thing before this post concludes.

I believe that Urthemiel is June's archdemon. The Chant of Light references an Architect of Beauty, just as it references Corypheus, the Conductor of Silence. These are high priests of the so-called "Old Gods," which were revealed as archdemons when Dumat appeared during the First Blight. Corypheus was the high priest of Dumat, the old god of Silence.

I believe the word Architect being used as the title for the high priest of Urthemiel is indicative of the Evanuris that Urthemiel belongs to. There is one Evanuris known for craftsmanship: June, who we know nothing about.

The reason I mention this is that, if nothing else, June's abilities may have allowed Solas to "purify" and shape the red lyrium idol into his ritual dagger that we see in Veilguard.

In conclusion: I believe Solas has always had access to the Stone, but it would certainly be interesting to see if each Evanuris has their own suite of magical abilities, potentially due to the Titan from which some of them originated (more on THAT in a later post, stay tuned!).

If you read this far, THANK YOU, as always! The collective hype of everyone reading and sharing these is making me all the more excited for Veilguard.

Keep an eye out for the next instalment in this series: What the Chant of Light teaches us about Solas, Mythal, and the Evanuris at large.

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