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fortunapre · 25 days ago

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Oscar asks you to attend an important event with him, and during this, secrets and moments are shared. HOT MOMENTS!!!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: my first smut so tread carefully. 18+, also kind of fluff, p in v, fingers do things, swearing, 1st person

★ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 ★ 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ★ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 ★ 4.5k words (long)

A classic childhood best friends to lovers. This story is written in first person and includes thoughts of the main character:

y/n of course.

I know that I promised him. I know what I promised him. However, I also know that keeping this promise might very well leave me crying on my bathroom floor listening to Gracie Abrams's "I Should Hate You” later tonight.

You know when you agree to something so irrational and god damn stupid that you immediately know you’ll regret it? At the time, when he asked me, I thought: I should really start going out more anyways and, really, how bad could it be? Safe to say, if I could go back in time and strangle (maybe not strangle but slightly maim) those words out of past-Me’s mind, I'd be hopping in a telephone booth right now.

But, if that were the case, you wouldn't be hearing about this now, would you?

I guess some explanation should be given…

Cheesy movie-like-warping flashback to 2 months ago…

It was around noon on a blistering Thursday, at the Singapore Grand Prix. I had just shown up a little later than expected, and the sun had already given me a death wish. I was wearing a Mclaren cap and sunglasses, but I swear heat waves were emitting from my face. Dramatics aside, it was really fucking hot, and I wanted to find Oscar and get in the shade ASAP.

I probably looked stupid as I whipped my head back and forth like a crazy woman, trying to spot him. I dragged the friend I’d taken with me across the paddock, trying to locate the Mclaren Area.

Once I remembered it's the 21st century and I have a cellphone, I called Oscar.

“Yeah?” He answered after one ring.

“Ugh where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere…”

“I'm at the Mclaren-”

“Where?! I don’t see a wink of papaya.” My friend beside me gave me a pointed look because I was getting a bit aggressive because of the heat, but who cares? I NEED SHADE.

“If you’d let me finish my sentence, dork, I’d have told you It’s to the left of the entrance. It’s kind of hidden by Ferrari.”

“Okayyyyy…” I said while walking and looking around for what he was talking about. “walking there now. See ya.”

“See ya.”

I hung up and practically sprinted to where he said.

Once I caught sight of Lando a few steps away, I knew I was heading the right way.

“Lando!” I yelled. He looked up from his phone, eyes squinting and searching for the voice that called his name. He was wearing a nice outfit, no doubt because it was media day. Once he saw me he smiled and gave a short wave.

I tried to bring my friend with me, but they insisted on going to the Ferrari area instead since “Mclaren is enemy territory.”

I understood and let them go since I know how much of a die-hard Tifosi they are.

Once I reached Lando, I gave him a short hug and stood next to him in the shade. I was going to ask how the day’s been so far, but he spoke first.

“Wow, was it really that bad? What did you say?” Lando said, looking at me with concern. “Umm what?” I am very confused. Who? What? When where? Huh? “Lando. What are you talking about?”

“Well, you walked over looking kind of, i don’t know… mad? And now you're all red so I assumed that your guy’s conversation didn’t go down well.” He explained, still not giving me a better explanation.”

“Huh? What why? Wait. Mine and whose conversation?” I expressed my concern and confusion by waving my arms around.

“Oscar, dumbass. Who else?”

“I just got here. What are you talking about? Actually, I was going to see Oscar right now, but I thought I’d catch up with you, since I saw you first.”

“Oh! You haven’t seen Oscar yet?” Lando’s eyebrows raised up like a cartoon character in surprise. I shook my head. “Go over there! He should be by the interviewer's pen. And just ignore everything I said. Yeah?”

“I- ok?” Before I could say anything Lando walked away towards a group of people holding neon yellow merch.

I shook my head in confusion and then walked towards the interview pen. I spotted Oscar in a second, wearing a black Quadlock T-shirt, black shorts, an orange and blue OP81 cap, and the all-known backpack. His hands were in his pockets and he was nodding along to whatever the person next to him was talking about.

He caught sight of me and did a double take in my direction. Instead of immediately leaving his conversation, he kept nodding respectfully but while occasionally looking at me. The person talking to him must have realized he was distracted and let him go. Once he was free, he turned away and started walking towards me, a smile present like always.

“You good? You look a little sweaty?” He asked while laughing a bit and wiping the space between my eyebrows and hat with the cold handkerchief he was holding.

“No shit, Sherlock.” I answered and tried to wipe away more moisture with the collar of my shirt, to no avail. He just gave me the handkerchief instead of watching me struggle.

Once I was done, I looked at him and saw his classic amused smirk. I shoved his shoulder playfully and walked past him into the shade.

He directed me to a room with air conditioning. It had a couch, closet and other Oscar things- it was his driver’s room.

I plopped down on the couch, fanning myself.

He sat down next to me and once he did, I didn’t hesitate to drape my legs over his lap and lay back, exhausted.

We kind of sat there for a bit until he spoke up.

“So listen there’s this…”

When he stopped talking I opened my rested eyes and lifted my head to look at him. When I saw how flushed he looked, I properly sat up, moving my legs off of him and sat next up. Instead of asking what he was going to say, I just stayed quiet, knowing he would say it when he wanted to.

“I have a question for you. You can say no, but I figured I’d ask you since you're my closest friend and I’d be more comfortable if you were there.” He said quickly.

(Hi. Future-me here. I’d have told you what him saying “friend” did to my heart, but I haven’t explained that part yet.)

“Ok, I’m all ears!” Who says that? Is that an actual saying? Why am I nervous?

He laughed a bit at that and continued talking. “So, are you up to going to this team gala thing in November with me, ‘cause I need a plus one and I don’t think I could get an actual date at that time.”

So, 1. Actual date? What's that supposed to mean? And 2. What does he mean he couldn’t get a date when he looks like that?

(If you didn’t get that: I find Oscar very attractive.)

“Oh, um…” I started.

(Waaiiiittttttttttt)

“Well, I guess. I mean-” I stuttered.

(Anddddddddd)

“Sure. I’ll go with you.” I finally said.

(There it is. The worst mistake: I agreed to go to this stupid gala with him.)

Present

After I agreed to go to the gala with him, he brightened up and the look on his face made me excited to go, at the time. Now, however, I’m standing in my room, in my dress, chewing my nails and thinking over any type of excuse I could come up with.

Over these past 2 months since he asked me, we’ve gotten closer.

We’ve been hanging out more, and doing things that have made me feel like maybe he reciprocates my feelings.

Oh! By the way, I’m in love with my best friend, Oscar Piastri, but you probably already gathered that.

This Gala is making me nervous because of how intimate it sounds to go as Oscar’s date and social gatherings haven’t been my favorite either.

So, now I’m racking my brain on anything I could say to get out of this.

Right as I debate pretending to fall ill, my doorbell rings.

I take a deep breath, grab my purse and my shoes and make my way downstairs to answer the door.

Once the door swings open, I’m hit with cold air from outside, but a shiver makes it’s way throughout my body for a completely different reason.

Oscar’s standing there, wearing a black suit that fits him way too well. He’s wearing a burnt orange tie to match my dress and is holding flowers. His face is tinted pink from the cold and his hair is messy in a “yeah I styled it, but in a rockstar-messy-sexy way.”

We both looked at each other in silence, checking each other out with no guilt. His gaze broke from me first and right as I was trying to imagine what his torso looked like under his shirt, he cleared his throat. I looked away quickly and smiled at him warmly. He had his signature smile-smirk that made me want to grab his face and kiss it off of him.

I withheld from any of the inappropriate actions flooding through my mind, no matter how many, and instead let him in.

He walked in and stood in the entrance across from me.

“It’s 7, and you’re not even finished getting ready?” He asked, grabbing my heels from my hand and lifting them up.

“Yeah, well, to be honest I’m kind of nervous.”

Instead of asking why, he just nodded his head in a 'yeah me too' way.

He set the flowers down on a table nearby and started kneeling.

“Oscar, come on.” I tried to lift him up by his jacket, but he just playfully swatted my hand and continued. He lifted one of my feet slowly and began putting my shoe on for me.

Safe to say I am very much enjoying this, and might just internally combust.

Once he put both shoes on, he looked up at me, still kneeling. Instead of getting up immediately, he just looked at me for a bit and me him.

There was something burning and overly intimate about this: us looking at each other. He slowly got back up and stood in front of me at his normal, towering, height. The change in his position did not stop our gazes.

He looked serious now. Not the usual, playful, best-friend Oscar. Something different....

“You look beautiful.” He spoke in a low, gravely way that made my insides warm.

I looked down, blushing like crazy.

He looked away, a new hard expression on his face, and opened the door for us both.

“Thankyou for the flowers.” I mentioned it quietly, afraid of this blooming tension.

He just nodded and led me to his car.

When we reached the gala, my nerves still hadn’t settled. In Oscar’s case, he didn’t look relaxed anymore. The whole way here, he kept stealing glances at me. I tried to understand what he was thinking but his expression wasn’t giving anything away.

We walked into the building together. His head was on the small of my back, and since the dress was backless, his pinky was very close to grazing the top of my underwear. My back was burning from his touch and it’s all my mind was on. As we walked through a ton of people, I never thought about anything other than Oscar’s hands, and what they would feel like anywhere lower.

Welcome to my mind: the place where Oscar’s hands have supremacy over any valid thought process.

I imagined him gripping my hips and pulling me close. Rubbing my arms, touching my face, lightly brushing my lips with his fingers, slowly touching my thigh.

But then his hand left my back, and my surroundings faded back into reality.

We reached an area where people were mingling by an open bar. I'm going to need a drink to get through this.

Before I could get a drink to filter my emotions, Lando found us.

“Hey guys, thank god you're here.” He said. He was wearing a nice navy suit, and any girl would fawn over him. Except, next to me was Oscar, and he looked so incredibly handsome that I couldn’t take my eyes off of him to spare Lando anymore than a glance.

“Hey man.” Oscar fist-bumped him awkwardly and I gave him a small side hug.

“You guys are kind of late, but that’s okay because everybody figured you guys were doing-” Lando didn’t finish whatever he was going to say and instead gave a horrible wink.

I didn’t understand what he was saying at first but then Oscar made a comment,

“Mate, come on.” Oscar looked annoyed with Lando and rolled his eyes. I blushed when I realized and scoffed at Lando’s attempt to make a joke.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s true though.”

“Lando.” This time i scolded him.

“Sorry! Anyways, you’re a bit late so you missed the introduction but I'll summarize. There’s going to be an open bar, a raffle, dancing and mingling. The raffle's for some car but we don’t get to participate...But he wants us to either talk to these fancy people and find sponsors or dance.”

I winced a bit, not at all excited to do any sort of talking, let alone business talking.

Lando walked away towards a pretty blond woman, going to do God knows what and left us to decide what to do with these instructions. I thought hard about how much I do not want to talk to strangers and instead blurted out: “Let’s dance.”

Oscar looked at me quickly in confusion. “What? You hate dancing. Remember the school dance where we sat at the table the whole night because of how petrified you were of dancing in front of everyone?”

Yes, of course I remember. Right now, though, I’d take anything over sponsor-mingling.

“I'd do anything to not have to follow you around to make conversation with these people. So, let’s look busy and dance.”

Oscar agreed and took my hand.

His hands, good lord. We found a spot and situated ourselves in a normal dance position.

His hands were on my waist, and I held mine around his neck. I did whatever I could to not make eye contact. Instead, I watched as couples around the room held each other closely and danced to the music, looking very formal.

“You good?” Oscar asked me in a whisper. He tilted his head down to speak right next to my ear. He was very close to my face, and when I moved to look at him and answer, our noses brushed. I jerked away a bit at the touch and just nodded. I held him closer and rested my head on his chest. My heart was beating out of my chest. He was breathing slowly and deeply near my face.

Our closeness, his voice, his touch, my heart, and the collection of everything that’s happened over these last two months were gathering to the front of my mind.

I needed to say something.

“Oscar.” I whispered, finally making eye contact with him.

His gaze was sharp, darting between both of my eyes.

“Yeah?” he asked softly.

We were slowly moving to the music, and he was leading effortlessly. Even though dancing in a crowd was one of my worst nightmares, I wasn’t scared at all. All of my emotions were focused on the man holding me. My best-friend. My childhood crush. My Oscar. I needed to tell him how I felt. Tonight.

“Can we go somewhere private?” I asked nervously. His eyes got intense and his jaw moved. He looked around the room, and without asking why, he took his hands away from my waist and held my lower back, moving me through the dancers.

He didn’t know this building and neither did I, so it took us some time to find somewhere, but eventually we found a room filled with plants. It didn’t look like an indoor garden at all. Instead, it looked like plants that originally decorated the building and were stashed in this room for the night, to make room for Mclaren decor. The green made the room weirdly beautiful and the arrangement of vases were Louvre-worthy.

Oscar closed the door behind him and turned to me. I sat on the edge of a table that was in the middle of the room and hid my face in my shoulder, suddenly scared and regretting this very much.

Oscar and I have always been able to tell when something was bothering the other. So, whenever one of us caught that look on the other, we never pressured them to say anything. Instead, we waited in comfortable silence for the other to say what they wanted. Asking somebody what’s wrong over and over or pressuring the anwer out of someone never works. So, we wait. Wait until we’re ready.

That’s what Oscar was doing. He was waiting for me to speak up, but I could tell the silence was eating at him this time. So, I spoke.

“Listen, I’m just going to say it. I don’t know if this is going to change our friendship, and I really don’t want it to. If it’s weird, just ignore it and we’ll pretend this never happened, ok? I don’t want you to leave my life or stay away forever after this.” I said quickly, looking at my feet dangling from the edge of the table.

Oscar didn’t respond at first. I looked up trying to catch an emotion but I had no idea what he was thinking.

Instead, he stepped closer to me. He got so close that his thighs were touching my knees.

“Nothing you say could ever keep me away from you.” He said, looking at me with sincerity and an intensity that could have someone on their knees in a second.

I just nodded and cleared my throat.

“Ok.” I nodded again, trying to get the words out.

“Oscar, I-” My heartbeat was in my ears and suddenly any nerves fell away as I was cut off. Oscar stopped me from talking by softly grabbing my neck and bringing my face close to his. I fell silent and instead admired our shared breaths. Our noses were touching and with one lean, I could be feeling Oscar’s lips on me. I don’t know what he wants. Is he going to kiss me? A few seconds later, Oscar moved his head a bit. He grazed my lips with his, but we still weren’t kissing yet. All of my emotions were on high, I needed him. Now.

I took the last space and smashed my lips on his. He inhaled deeply into the kiss and immediately started moving with me. His lips were soft. Softer than I’d imagined.

His hand that was on the back of my neck brought me closer to him. Our lips were only touching. We're not properly making out, but somehow, it was the sexiest, most intimate thing I’d ever felt. Oscar used his other hand to move my knees apart so he could step between them. As soon as he moved closer, a heat burst in my heart. I grabbed the front of his jacket with both hands and pulled him into me. He started moving his lips, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth in the most sensual way.

I gasped in the air and fluttered my eyes at the feeling of finally kissing Oscar. Oscar was kissing me back and it was more than I could have ever imagined in the steamiest of dreams.

He kissed me like it was the break of dawn, and he was fulfilling a dream he had about us. I heard the unsteady breathing between us both and every nerve of mine was on fire.

Oscar placed a hand on my thigh, grazing his thumb across the soft skin. He made a deep noise–a growl?-and said against my lips, “Me too, dork.” He could only mean that he agrees with what I was going to confess.

“Wait, you didn't even hear me.” I whispered, moving to rest my forehead against his.

He chuckled and it made me shiver in a way that made me want his whole weight on me. “I’ve known you my whole life. I kind of figured, well I hoped, that’s what you were trying to say with the warning you gave about ‘not wanting to ruin our friendship,’ so I had a hunch and took it.”

I smiled and opened my eyes to look at him. “Im glad.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, then angled his head to kiss along my neck. I was going to reply but only a sultry moan escaped my lips. He sucked in a short breath at the noise and started to nip further down to my collarbone and back up to behind my ear. I ran my fingers through his hair, gently pulling and playing with the strands. He licked the warm spot on my throat and then abandoned my neck.

“Listen, I know this is extremely inappropriate," I looked at him, praying to any romantic gods that he says what I need him to say. "but I really need you right now. I think I’ll go insane…” He kissed me again, this time not hard but inviting and slowly. My mind was going haywire from his confession. He seemed so confident, and his touches and movements only seemed to validate the truth of his wants.

I pulled back and made sure to look him in the eye when I said: “Please, yes.”

He growled again and latched our lips and hips at the same time, dragging me closer to him. He was still standing between my legs, while I sat on the table. I was grasping at his hair, then down to the nape of his neck where I pulled him again. I couldn't get enough of him.

He slowed us down again and started to take off his jacket. Then, he got down on his knee to take off my shoes.

What kind of irony is it that he’s doing exactly what I imagined him doing when he was putting them on.

After the shoes, was his tie, then I undid the buttons of his shirt. I wasted no time feeling his toned abs with both hands. We kissed for a little longer, not being able to leave our mouths alone for long.

What’d you expect? Its years of mutual longing, of course, we’re making it last.

Finally, all that was left between us was my bra, and our underwear.

He was incredibly hot and I needed to feel him closer. I didn’t want a barrier between us anymore. In seconds, the last pieces of clothing were gone and our bare bodies were feeling everywhere.

He slowly pushed me back onto the table and the coldness of the wood made me shiver. Then, he lifted my legs to bend and rest on the table as well.

I couldn’t see him completely but I felt him.

His fingers, the ones I’d daydreamed about minutes ago, touched my inner thigh. I heard him let out some unintelligent words as he got closer to where I needed him more than the entire universe.

“Oscar,” I gasped, telling him my needs.

Then, in a flash, I was brought back up , and facing Oscar again, sitting up. I let my legs drop off the table and Oscar held me close to him again.

“I need to kiss you. I need you close.” I melted at his words and moaned when his hand crept back down. Our mouths unlatched but slayed near each other.

“Good god. Is this all for me?” He asked, finally dragging his fingers through my wetness. His fingers push into me, thumb stroking. “All me?”

I nod and this makes him start to stroke and pump. Every feeling in me is being dragged in and out by his hand, making me spiral. Every touch is amplified, making me move with him, over and over. He adds another finger, and I can't hold it anymore. Just a few more and I’d have reached bliss. The bliss was going to have to wait though.

“Osc.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to come.”

I hold in another cry at the sight of his naughty smirk. “Good.”

Instead of coming alone, I clumsily reach for him. Once I find the heavy heat of him, I close my hand around it and feel how ready he is. I shift up so he can line up.

He moved his fingers to grp my thighs.

He groans deliciously as he finally sinks in, and that sound tugs at something lovely and warm inside me.

The relief of him, thick and hungry, sliding deep in and out of me could cause a cosmic reaction. Stars are bursting, my skin could be glowing. By god, If the world was ending around us, I’d stay here with him. Our bodies, finally being together, creates a fire in my bloodstream.

I whisper that I never want to stop.

He groans how there’s no way this is real.

I want to keep him here, he never wants to come, never wants to let go.

I'm already reaching my high, and our expressive, frantic love-making gets me there with a few more thrusts.

I go, he follows. I finish, he’s still following.

The world feels quiet as we make noises that rival the movies.

In the silence that follows, I feel our heartbeats and hear our mixed breaths.

He kisses me, but it’s so lazy and slow. We have to keep breathing deeply between kisses.

I shift to disconnect but he stops me, and he brings me into him, hugging me. Our sweat and skin feel each other in a warm embrace. He's still inside me.

“Holy shit.” Oscar says into my hair. “Never leave me.”

What did we just do?

How have we gone this long without doing this?

I'm going to need it in every part of my life from now on- to live.

“Oscar, I’m in love with you.” I say, after everything.

He smiles and lifts my face to look at him. “Well I mean, you did just say it like over and over-”

“Oscar, I'm serious.” I lightly smack his chest. I love how after everything we’re still the same friends and lovers that tease each other.

“I love you too.” he kisses me short and sweet. The kiss suddenly grows again. And leads to more. And more.

After we rushed to put on our clothes after realizing how long we were probably missing, we made our way back to the gala. We didn’t stay long, both scared someone would see us and figure out the obvious, and wanting to be alone again somewhere more private.

We almost made it, when Lando stopped us both. I was going to make up some bullshit excuse, but instead of saying anything, Lando held a hand up, then gave the most horrendous wink and let us pass. Idiot.

#reader reached the apex before oscar #lets fucking go #smut's lowkey hard guys #f1 #no pun intended #f1 x reader #fanfiction #formula one #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #formula one smut #oscar piastri one shot

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

Text

The Archer | Chapter V: This Is Me Trying

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: A vision Neteyam sees at the Spirit Tree puts a strain on your relationship and leaves more questions than answers. Another RDA atrocity leaves the Metkayina reeling and sets in motion events whose consequences will haunt you forever.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 11.6k words

Warnings/notes: smut(18+, minors DNI!), angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, SPOILERS for ATWOW

A/N: This is it, the chapter where it all goes to shit! I am very excited to explore the second half of the movie and put my own little spin on it. I hope you enjoy where the story is going and are as excited as I am for what's in store. The song the reader sings to Tuk is important for the story, as are all the lyrics I put in it, and if you replace the river with Eywa, it all fitsss! Why am I seeing Eywa in Frozen 2 we'll never know, but here we are. Also, whilst the beginning quote usually speaks to the reader's feelings, this one I felt fit all of the three POV characters in the particular hardships each of them are going through. Ok I'll stop rambling enjoy thank you for asking to be tagged and liking and reblogging and replying ily byee

I've been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound

It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

The next day, the tension between Lo’ak and Ao’nung seemed to dissipate, and you knew whatever happened after Lo’ak took off was enough to mend a relationship you thought was too broken to ever recover. Boys, you rolled your eyes. They would almost kill each other, and it would all be forgotten the next day. You and the rest of the Sullys, as well as Rot’xo, Tsireya and Ao’nung were hanging out by the beach, as Lo’ak recounted his encounter with the tulkun that saved his life.

“I wish I’d been there. The ocean blessed you with a gift, brother.”

“The tulkun have not returned yet. And anyway, no tulkun is ever alone.”

“This one was. It had a…a missing fin, like a stump on the left side.” Lo’ak was looking only at Tsireya when he spoke, like she was the only one there. She was also enraptured by his presence, and fear flashed across her features as the realisation hit.

“Payakan. It’s Payakan.”

“Who’s Payakan?” Kiri asks, a concerned look on her face.

“A young bull who went rogue. He’s outcast, alone. And he has a missing fin.”

“They say he is a killer.” Tsireya looked at your brother almost in pain, pleading Lo’ak to hear her.

“He killed Na’vi, and other tulkun…not here, but far to the South.”

You and Neteyam exchanged a look, worried for your baby brother who was in such proximity with an apparent monster.

“No, he’s no killer.”

Tsireya reached for Lo’ak’s arm, and you watched as he wrapped his hand around her wrist, holding her intimately.

“Lo’ak… you are lucky to be alive.”

“I’m telling you guys, he saved my life. He’s my friend.”

You saw your mate get up from his spot to place his hands on his brother’s shoulder, a desperate attempt to defuse an increasingly tense situation.

“My baby bro, the mighty warrior who faced the killer tulkun, and lived to tell about it.”

Lo’ak pushed himself away from Neteyam’s grasp, evident annoyance and frustration emanating from his whole body.

“You guys aren’t listening.”

Tuk, who was nestled in your lap, spoke in the cute voice that made you melt on the spot.“Lo’ak, I’m listening…”

“Lo’ak, come back…” you tried to call after him, but it was too late.

“You skxawng.” You heard Kiri say as your brother walked away.

You gently removed Tuk from your lap and got up, determined to not leave him alone. He was alone far too often, and you wanted him to know he didn’t have to do this by himself. Neteyam gave you a look, and you knew he felt hurt that you were leaving him for his brother, and hurt that he knew Lo’ak would much rather prefer your presence to his. He always had, ever since you were all children.

You ran across the beach and caught him right as he was getting in the water.

“Wait up, you irk.” He didn’t stop until he hit the water, and you had to physically arrest him with your hand around his arm.

“Lo’ak!”

“Why does nobody ever believe me? Why doesn’t she believe me?”

Of course this was about Tsireya. You smiled a little at your oblivious baby brother.

“She does believe you, you skxawng, she’s just worried about you.”

He turned instantly in his spot.

“You think?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed a frustrated exhale. You called for an ilu and motioned for him to get on his own.

“Come, I want to meet this Payakan.”

You could tell Lo’ak was annoyed he had to wait for you, as you were not as fast or experienced in the water as he was, and needed to come up for air a lot more, but he didn’t complain. As you reached Three Brothers Rocks, he called loudly for Payakan, and you felt like an earthquake engulfed you as the massive creature surfaced. You were still a little scared by the tulkun, holding on tightly to your ilu, but you believed your brother - you trusted him, and you wanted him to know that.

Lo’ak immediately jumped from his ilu and onto the fin of the tulkun, which could comfortably fit a few Na’vi on it. He closed up on Payakan’s eye, and spoke looking closely into it.

“It’s good to see you.�� Through sign language, Lo’ak continued speaking to his new friend. “Why are you outcast? What happened?”

You heard Payakan make a trilling sound you couldn’t understand, but you knew from the Metkayina they had their own complex language that you hoped in time you could master somehow.

“I trust you. You can trust me.”

The tulkun gave another trill that sounded quite content, and you smiled at the real connection that blossomed between these two. You saw Lo’ak smile a gummy, wide, genuine smile, and you couldn’t remember the last time you last saw it. The thought made you sad, but you pushed it aside.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” Your brother motioned for you to dismount your ilu and follow him, which you did cautiously.

As you reached his eye, you brought you fingers to your forehead and signalled an “I see you” to the mighty creature and smiled as it pushed its massive head a little closer to you.

“This is my sister.” You saw Lo’ak signal. You were both hanging on the fin when you felt it being lowered, and your brother told you to take a deep breath and hold on.

The next few hours were some of the most spectacular of your life, as you allowed Payakan to carry you around on his massive fin, feeling similar to how you did when flying at high speeds on top of your beautiful ikran. You mostly watched though, feeling as though Lo’ak deserves this moment for himself, deserves this connection that is his and his alone.

Eventually, they returned and you both got on top of him, sunbathing on his back while he floated away peacefully.

“So… Tsireya, huh?”

You smiled as Lo’ak turned purple.

“It’s ok, Lo’ak. You can talk to me.”

“I feel weird talking about this with you.”

“Oh…” you felt a little hurt at the comment, but decided not to push. “You don’t have to, I just thought you might like to. I don’t want you to feel alone, or like you can’t tell me things.”

“I would like to, it’s just, I have loved you my whole life, and for so long I thought that there was a chance that you and I might…” he shook his head, like he was trying to push the idea out of his mind, before continuing.

“It was weird between us, for a while, it was hard for me to watch you with my brother, knowing you were just one more thing he got that I didn’t… just one more thing he beat me at.”

“I’m not a prize you win at a carnival, you know?” You raised your eyebrow in his direction, a little indignant at his comments.

“I know… what I’m saying is that it is just a little strange for me, in light of everything we have been through. But I want to talk to you, if you want to listen.”

Neteyam decided there was no point in dwelling on his brother, or on you, both of whom were adults, and able to make your own decisions - and if that decision meant abandoning him and the rest of them on the day you were all supposed to go see the Cove of the Ancestors for the first time, then so be it.

With a small sigh, he got up from the ground and helped his sister up. Kiri eyed him intently, trying to gauge how bad his mood was, and right now, he couldn’t tell. He just knew he wanted to go, and calm down before he even thought about it further.

“Let’s go, it will be eclipse soon and I think you will really like it.”

He was excited to see the spirit tree, excited to see how it would differ from Vitraya Ramunong. He was excited to see what Eywa had to show him, what vision or dream he would be transported to this time. He tried not to dwell on the last time, the one he saw Auntie Jo and how she told him you were almost dead, tried not to dwell on the memories of seeing you in that room, a small and frail human, tubes protruding in and out of you like a nightmare he couldn’t wait wake up from.

They all got on their own ilu, except from Tuk who got on Kiri’s, and when they were all ready, they left. Neteyam was still amazed at the underwater beauty of this world, so unlike his own, but just as mesmerising, and he wondered if he would ever get used to it - ever not have his heart pick up speed in his chest at all the colours and the fish, at the coral and the reflections of the sun on the surface of the water, on his skin. When they resurfaced, Neteyam saw floating islands, that brought him back home a little, to the miracle of the Hallelujah mountains, although these were a little different, much smaller and flatter, and he thought with a swell of pride that although the beauty of this corner of the world was unparalleled, there still was nothing to top his own.

He took it all in, feeling all the resentment and anger melt away at the sight, arcades reaching peaks he could barely see, and the shift in the air reminded him a lot of the Tree of Souls - he felt Eywa in it, knew she was here, with them, right now. His thoughts lingered on you, on the fact you were missing this, that his brother was missing this, and how much he knows you would have enjoyed it. He imagined your face, glowing in surprise and awe, mouth agape and eyes wide, your ears flickering animatedly and freckles glowing stronger than usual, and he felt the pang of jealousy and hurt return in full force, fighting with his conscious mind that was telling him to let it go.

“This is the Cove of the Ancestors. Our most sacred place.“

Neteyam felt blinded by the sun as eclipse was starting to set in. He put a hand in front of his face to relieve some of the discomfort, and when he removed it, he was once again in unadulterated shock at the seascape beneath him. Bioluminescent glow brought light to the entire cove, purple and pink and blue.

“This is it. This is the Spirit Tree.”

The tree was resting on the ocean floor, and unlike their own, it was adorned with enormous leaves, reminiscent of delicate sea anemone. They dove in, each of them choosing their own, and he reached for his queue, gently bringing it forward to form the Tsaheylu. He felt air fill his lungs as the tree was providing a way to maintain the bond for longer underwater, and he was grateful as he always was, for Eywa and the way this planet worked together to maintain balance and a sense of communion among all its inhabitants.

He felt it instantly, being transported through space and time, through dimensions into a higher one, higher than his own, higher than he’ll ever know until his death.

He woke up outside of the clearing, your clearing, back in the forest, and his heart constricted at the sight. The smell of the wood and wet ground, the moisture in the air from the morning dew, the constant buzzing and humming of life all around him, the feel of the grass on his feet that he wiggled, trying to memorise the sensations it evoked in him.

He heard the unmistakable sound of a guitar, and a song he has never heard before playing, muffled voice breaking through the rest of the quiet sounds. He rushed to it, excited to see you, even in this universe, parallel to his own, you were still the only light guiding him. He was going to call for you, when the voice caught in his throat and his mouth remained agape, too surprised to remember to close it. It was you, but not as he has known you for a year now. It was human you, sick you, pale and skinny, wet from unshed rain, hair clinging to your bony back. You didn’t turn to face him, continuing to play the song that rang painful in his ears now, like it didn’t belong - like you didn’t belong.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

“Atan?”

You stopped playing and finally turned to him, and he hated seeing you like this, brittle and frail, so unlike the you he knows and loves, so unlike your soul, which shone brightly and stood tall. A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed your features as you took him in, a mix of fear, and happiness, wonder and anguish, all fighting for supremacy on your face.

“How are you here?”

“How am I here, how are you here, Atan? What is going on?”

“It’s good to see you. I missed you.”

Neteyam was so confused, his mind was mush trying to understand what was going on. He saw you slowly wander towards him, a soft smile on your face as you seemed to make up your mind about which feelings plagued you seeing him in front of you.

As you approached him, he tried to not focus on your ghastly features that he still had nightmares thinking about at night before bed, and he thanked Eywa for bringing you back to him, healthy and strong again.

You reached a hand for his face, that you stroke gently, and he couldn’t help lean into your touch, still familiar and necessary, even in this strange world, in this uneasy scenario.

“You shouldn’t be here, Neteyam. I am so happy to see you again, but you need to go.”

You were as tall as him, he mused. Even in your human body, you were as tall as you were in your Na’vi form, top of head reaching his chin, and he took you in his arms and into a hug, that he needed desperately.

“I don’t understand, Atan. What is happening?”

You hugged him back, as tightly as you could in this body that was falling apart in front of him, and pulled back, resting a hand above his heart, a soft tear falling down your cheek.

“Neteyam, I don’t have a lot of time.” You looked panicked around you, and he knew your time together was quickly coming to an end.

“Your life is fast approaching a crossroad and when it reaches, you will have a choice to make. Please, please choose right. And please, don’t think about me again, or about this. You can’t think of me again and you can’t tell anyone about this, you can’t tell me about this, do you understand?”

Neteyam couldn’t speak, couldn’t process what was happening in front of him. He didn’t have to, though, as you brought your face to his and kissed him, salty tears falling all over your face and into the kiss, that he felt staining the taste of you, that he loved so much. The last thing he saw was you walking away, your hand that you were resting on his body dripping in red liquid down your arm and onto the ground, that he recognised faintly as blood.

“I love you so much. I hope we never see each other again.”

He was violently pulled out of his dream by a hand shaking him awake, and the world came bluntly into view once more, commotion happening all around him. He turned to face the cause, and almost drowned as he saw his baby sister shaking aggressively, the freckles all over her body flashing concurrently.

He immediately rushed to her side and pulled her out of the water, by which time she had completely lost consciousness, and called for an ilu. He didn’t even have time to think about his own stirring experience, as every thought was screaming in terror and fear for his sister, who was not responsive at all, and whose previously bright markings were now completely dim.

Neteyam had to clear his mind and think. He’s seen seizures before, as they sometimes appeared in people who had the disease you helped cure. Kiri inhaled a lot of water as she was seizing, and her absent breath brought his own laboured one forward. He knew what to do.Thirty compressions, two breaths, thirty compressions, two breaths. As he continued the CPR, he saw with relief flooding his being that his baby sister gasped for air, now breathing on her own.

“Get her to the village. Hurry.” He thinks that was Tsireya, he was too focused on Kiri to care.

“Let’s go, let’s move.” He didn’t stop to see if any of them were following him, hurrying as much as he could to get her to safety.

You were happy you came with Lo’ak, although guilt was starting to gnaw at you when you thought about Neteyam’s hurt expression as you took off. You blew him and the rest of your family off on one of the most important days here, the day you were supposed to see the Tree of Souls. You knew that, but you knew it in your heart that Lo’ak needed someone to talk to, outside of his new mammalian friend, someone to show him he’s not as alone as he feels every day. Unlike the rest of them, you knew all too well the deep ache that came with feeling all alone, and you couldn’t bear the thought of your baby brother going trough that. You smiled a little to yourself at your conversation, and your now better understanding of his feelings towards the kind Metakyina girl, and you were grateful you were able to overcome a barrier you felt has plagued your relationship for a while.

It was a little past eclipse as you returned to the village and you saw with some surprise commotion happening outside of your tent. Your ilu took you right there in no time, and you jumped onto the platform, where your family was, alongside the Metkayina kids.

You hurried towards the entrance, where you saw Neteyam, and you gasped loudly when you looked inside and you saw Kiri laying on the floor, unconscious, Neytiri huddled on top of her, screaming for her to wake up.

“What the hell happened?”

Neteyam shot you a dirty look, which you recoiled at. Neteyam never looked at you that way, and you knew then he was a lot more upset about you leaving than you thought he would be.

“Kiri had a seizure at the Tree of Souls. She hasn’t woken up since.”

You ran inside and quickly got your medical bag out of hiding. “What have you guys done about it?”

“I gave her CPR because she inhaled a lot of water and she wasn’t breathing. She started breathing on her own, but that was it, she hasn’t woken up.”

“When was this?”

“Maybe 20 minutes ago?”

“Shit. If it was a seizure, she should have woken up by now. This is serious. She shouldn’t still be unconscious.”

“Can you do anything?” You heard Jake say, concern dripping from every word, tension thick in the air that was now hard to breathe.

“I can give her some IV fluids, but I’m not sure, Jake. She might be in status epilepticus, which is when a person seizes for longer than 5 minutes, but I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not trained for this. She needs EEG scans, which I don’t have, and she might need to be put in a medically induced coma so her brain doesn’t get damaged.”

“A coma?” He looked at you like you grew another head.

“I’m not sure, Jake, this is just a guess. I don’t have the equipment to run these kinds of tests. You need to call Norm and Max.”

“It’s dangerous, they are watching the air space, they could find us.”

“If they can help her, we have to try.” Neytiri stood up and came to you, taking your hands in hers. “Please help her!”

“I will, sa’nok. It will all be alright.”

Neteyam was painfully aware of everything happening around him, aware of people going in and out, aware of your presence back in his, making his heart race and breath labour. He was mad at you, mad at Lo’ak, mad that you both were selfish and left them, mad that if you had stayed, with him, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened - maybe Kiri would have been fine. On top of everything, his own experience at the Tree of Souls left so many questions, so much lingering in his mind. Why were you there? What did you all mean? What crossroads? Why couldn’t he think of you? How was he supposed to know which choice was the right one?Why couldn’t he tell you? You were his best friend, the person he told everything to, and most importantly, the smartest person he knows. If anyone would have an answer for this whole surreal experience, it would be you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Neteyam turned his head to see you standing there, looking up at him, a tired and pleading look in your eyes. He felt his anger melt, if only slightly, when looking in those eyes that still shone as brightly as the sun, and his mind flashed to your human eyes, that he saw for the first time in a year. He felt a little guilty for thinking of another pair of eyes than the ones currently staring at him, even if they were still your own.

“How is she?”

You sighed and turned towards Kiri’s unconscious form in the tent. “I don’t know. We won’t know until the morning, when Norm and Max get here.”

Neteyam scowled, not looking at you, but at the tiny flickers of bioluminescent light coming from the water, where fish were peacefully swimming near the surface. Maybe if you had been there…

“Neteyam… there’s nothing I could have done either way. There’s nothing I could have done differently, even if I was there.” Neteyam’s scowl deepened, but mostly cause he was unnerved by your continuous ability to see through him.

“I’m sorry for leaving. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

Neteyam let out a mocking laugh. “You did have a choice.”

“I didn’t, Neteyam. Lo’ak needed me.”

“I needed you. You’re never around anymore, you’re doing the exact same thing as you did when you were young. Pushing me away, isolating yourself in this marui while everyone else is trying their fucking best to adapt. Everyone but you.”

Neteyam knew he was being harsh, but his emotions were running high in light of the clusterfuck of a day he had, of frustrations that had built in him for months, that were coming out to the surface now, even if he tried to stop them.

“Stop… you can’t do this. I know you are hurt that I left, and I know you feel annoyed at me, but I am trying my best. I’m sorry if it’s not good enough for you, but it’s the most I can handle right now. I am sorry about Kiri, Neteyam. I will do my best to help her, but right now, there is nothing else I can do. I am sorry about Lo’ak, but you guys always give him shit and you don’t take him seriously and I don’t want him to be alone. I know what it’s like to be alone, courtesy of my abandoning parents and you. You don’t get to blame me for not wanting someone, my brother, to go through what you put me through. I’m sorry I am not out as much as you guys, but unlike you, I didn’t grow up swimming and I am struggling, and I feel like a burden, and I feel like everyone is abandoning me for Tsireya, and I just need some time to deal, I need some time to figure out who I am now, in this new place, in this - yet again - new life, another one in a year. And a little bit of fucking understanding would be nice.”

He was still angry, probably even angrier than he was, at you and at Lo’ak, at your knee-jerk reflex to bring back his leaving whenever you were hurt. But he also felt guilty, because in truth, he didn’t try to see things from your perspective, and understand how hard this must all be on you. Neteyam watched as you turned your back to him and went back into the tent, kneeling over Kiri. That could have gone better, Neteyam thought with a deep sigh.

It was the morning when you heard the unmistakable sounds of a helicopter approaching, and you knew then that Norm and Max have arrived. You felt happy to see them and relieved they were here, as you felt completely out of your depth in this situation where your sister was involved. You didn’t sleep a wink last night, monitoring her vitals and making sure she was getting all the nutrients through the IV. You haven’t talked to Neteyam since then, his harsh words still fresh in your mind.

A swell of happiness enveloped you at the sight of the two men entering the tent, and you jumped up and hugged them, trying not to crush Max’s tiny body in the process. Norm was teary eyed when taking you in, and you found it hard letting go.

“Good to see you, Ace.”

You didn’t realise how much you missed that voice and that nickname until now, like a constant noise you don't realise is giving you a headache until it stops ringing in your ears.

“We missed you, guys. Sorry this is not under better circumstances.”

You watched as the men took out equipment you didn’t have with you, such as a portable EEG, and looked at her brain activity.

“I gave her 5mg/ml of propofol every 3 hours to maintain the coma, but I stopped a few hours before you arrived so you could do this. I’ve been keeping her on IV fluids to maintain hydration and nutrient intake.”

“Good job, Ace.”

You looked alongside the scientists at the scans of her brain.

“There’s no bleed, there’s no fracture. No effects of hypoxia. Her brain looks good.”

“You still have this interictal activity right here in her prefrontal.”

“She’s definitely had a seizure.”

You went outside to discuss this further, while the Sully children and their mother looked over Kiri.

“Look, I don’t think it was a seizure.”

“Ace, it was definitely a seizure. There’s nothing else it could have been.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Maybe it was a seizure, but I don’t think it’s epilepsy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, guys. It happened while she was plugged into the Tree of Souls.”

“I think the kid is right. I talked to her a couple nights ago. She says she could feel Eywa, she could hear her heartbeat.”

“That is classic frontal lobe epilepsy.”

“Epilepsy?” Jake looked out of his mind with concern, and you shook your head quietly, disagreeing with Norm, but not wanting to interrupt him.

“Yeah.. you see visions, you get states of religious ecstasy, like the kind she’s described. Plugging into the spirit tree is some sort of a trigger. You definitely can’t let her do that anymore.”

“What…? Ever?”

Max interjected softly, trying to be as understanding as empathetic as he could, given the situation at hand. "Jake… if she seizes underwater again, it could kill her.”

Jake turns to look at you, pleading, begging for you to disagree, to give him some sort of hope that this wasn’t as dire as it seemed.

“What do you think, baby girl?”

“I think Norm and Max are understandably looking at this the science, biological, human way… no offence.”

“I think everything you guys are saying makes sense, if you decide to forget who Kiri is. Kiri is not just anybody. She’s special, she is connected with Eywa in a way none of us can imagine. We have discussed about her parentage before and everyone has their theories, but mine is a little different. I think Kiri is Eywa’s child, as much as she was Grace’s. I think Eywa communicates through her, I think Eywa has bigger plans for her than any of us know. When I died, I saw my mother.” At the shocked expressions all around you, you withdrew into yourself a little. You didn’t want to talk about this, but it was necessary. “She was there, in Eywa. Has been with her, in this higher plane, ever since she died. She’s been watching over me. She told me that Kiri was the answer to the virus, that she would know. And she did. She has gifts, guys. I agree that her plugging into the spirit tree is a trigger, but not the one that can be measured by an EEG or treated by some Carbamazepine.”

“I think in order to wake up, she needs the Tsahik.”

You saw Neytiri thinking ahead of you, as she usually did, and closely behind her Ronal was making her way to your tent. You got up from next to the men, and all of you tracked back where Kiri was, and you watched as Ronal performed rituals you had no understanding of, but were fascinated by. Your gaze was fixated on Kiri’s face, as was the rest of your family’s, and all of you gasped loudly as you saw your sister’s eyes open slowly.

“Oh, thank God!” Jake was almost in tears, but couldn’t hold a candle to Tuk, whose face was littered by them.

“Kiri, you’re awake!”

Neytiri took her daughter’s hand in both of hers, bringing it affectionately to her face, as her and Kiri’s pained cries filled the muffled sounds in the room.

“Oh, Kiri, my sweet child. Oh, my sweet daughter.”

You were so happy, so relieved, and you couldn’t help gaze over to your mate, whose eyes were already on you. It was tense, the situation between you, and you wondered if it could be solved with one discussion, if this was really only about you leaving with Lo’ak. Your head moved minutely in the direction of the entrance to the tent, and he nodded at you, understanding instantly.

You left quietly, so as to not disturb the jubilant reunion, and sat on the edge of the platform, dipping your feet in the warm, clear blue water.

He sat next to you, and his body was turned towards yours, his thigh touching yours, his eyes staring down at the side of your face, that refused to look at him.

“Atan…”

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was hypocritical of me to hold your going after Lo’ak against you, when I have been doing that my whole life and getting injured as a result and coming close to dying a couple of times. I’m sorry for saying you are not trying. You obviously are, and I’m sorry I didn’t try to look at this from your perspective. You are doing amazing, you have had to overcome so much and you always come out stronger than you were, and every time I don’t understand how that’s even possible. I need you to know, that nobody is abandoning you. Tuk is still your biggest fan and she talks about you all the time when we are swimming. I think she chewed Tsireya’s ear off about you, and she misses you being around in the water with her. And Kiri, well, she just finds comfort in nature, and you know this, and right now the nature is… well, where you aren’t. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Your eyes lifted to meet his and you saw he looked… off, although he was being earnest in his apology. You couldn’t place what was wrong with him, what happened to him in the last couple of days, and it worried you, doubt eating at you mercilessly.

“I’m sorry for bringing up the fact you left. It was unfair of me.”

“Friends?” You smiled a little, still unconvinced that the situation was resolved, but cooing to yourself quietly when his hand caressed your cheek in the way that made you melt into him.

“Friends.”

Gideon stood behind as everyone was flying peacefully above the forest. He watched them all attentively, all of them, trying to think of everything he knew about them, everything he could use. He needed to figure out weaknesses, possible liabilities. He needed a plan to find you, talk to you on your own. He needed to know all the things he’s missed, needed you to know he would do anything in his power to protect you. This time, at least, he’d make sure he wasn’t too late. His mind flooded uncontrollably with images of his first daughter, Sarah, and how hard she had fought that cancer, how tiny she was, how he wasn’t even there when she died. He gave up everything, his integrity, and power, and life, his future, his family, his peace of mind, to come here and be paid the money that would save her life, but it was too late. It haunted him at night, the knowledge that she died alone. That her own dad wasn’t there to hold her as she gave her last breath. Further guilt brought shame deep in his soul as he realised he also abandoned you - willingly or not, you had to grow up alone. You were alone since you were ten, Spider mentioned, orphaned as a child. You were surrounded by Jake Sully’s kids, so he was hopeful that your life didn’t turn out as miserable as his nightmares painted it. You looked protective over them, they all thought you were all siblings. You had a family, one that he had no part in. It hurt him, the thought, it killed him like poison daggers, slowly, agonisingly. He hoped he could still see you, at least once. Could at least hear your voice, look into your eyes and apologise for all the mistake that lead to this, for all the time he has not loved and protected you the way he should have.

“Boss, long range patrol picked up a radar hit. A rogue gunship.”

“Where?”

“Eastern Sea, 400 klicks North.”

Turns out he was gonna get to see you sooner than he thought, and turns out he wouldn’t be alone. Fuck.

Everybody was really happy that Kiri was awake, except herself, it seemed. Neteyam noted with concern that she ate much less that she normally did, and didn’t want to come swimming with everyone else, which used to be her favourite thing to do in this village. It was early morning when the whole Sully family was up and about, most of them already gone. Later in the day, you would go deepwater hunting and scavenging with the rest of the Metkayina, but for now, you had a free morning. Neteyam peered over at you, hunched over the fire, chatting with Kiri and preparing food for her, determined to get her to eat. You sensed his eyes on you, as you always did, and you looked up, eyebrows raised in the direction of the exit. As Kiri was absentmindedly turned around, in her own little world, you signed to him in the language you now knew fluently. Go. I want to chat to her. Go find your brother. He needs you.

He did as he was told, walking through the village saying hello to all the people he has come to know in the past couple of months. The Metkayina were nice, he concluded. A little strange, but good, kind people once they got past his family’s… unique circumstances. It helped, he thought, that his dad was Toruk Makto, and he saw every day how people treated him almost like a deity, like a king among men. It was hard to think of his dad that way - he’s heard the stories, he’s seen the outcome of his war with the Aliens, he met other clans who he brought together during the time of Great Sorrow, but to him, he was just his dad. A little rough around the edges sometimes, particularly since the RDA came back, but still, just his dad, that used to carry him places and make him fly in his arms as a child, who carved wooden toys for them and taught him how to use a bow in a river near the village.

He found Lo’ak on the beach, deep in thought as he looked somewhere in the distance. Neteyam traced his brother’s gaze to a few girls, having fun in the water, enjoying the sunny day. He smirked when he saw the girl that seemed to take most of his baby brother’s attention recently. A four-fingered hand on Lo’ak shoulder startled him, and the oldest Sully laughed a little at how focused the boy must have been on Tsireya to not even notice his brother approaching at all.

“Bro, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I can see. Poor Tsireya’s ears are going to flame up with the amount you are staring at her.”

Lo’ak’s own ears turned purple and twitched in chagrin. Neteyam took a seat next to his brother.

“Lo’ak, I wanted to apologise.”

That got his baby brother’s attention, who rose an eyebrow expectantly. You and Lo’ak and your fucking eyebrows.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you that Payakan is good. And that I got jealous after you left.”

“You got jealous? Why?”

“Because she followed you. Because you got to stay, a whole year I couldn’t. Because you were there to watch her grow up, look after her when I wasn’t. Because your presence in her life was always positive and filled with laughter and human things I can’t understand, but you seem to, things you like. I think I’ve held a grudge for a long time, and I shouldn’t have. Because it wasn’t your fault. And I am grateful you were there for her, and that she had you. You have a connection with her I never will, and while it pained me watching you give her the Avatar, ask her to be your mate, none of it was on you, and I shouldn’t have let it come between us. I am sorry, Ma’tsmukan (brother).”

Lo’ak was speechless and Neteyam revelled a little at the sight, which was as rare as a new Toruk Makto. He should have done this a long time ago. There were plenty more things Neteyam had to apologise to his baby brother for, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his already disheveled demeanour.

“Bro, you’re going to make me emotional in front of the girl I like.” Neteyam laughed a little and opened his arms for his brother, who more than happily closed the gap and hugged him, just like they did when they were young.

They lay on the soft sand, bathing in the warm sun rays that provided a welcome respite from the constant state of moisture they usually found themselves in.

“Neteyam…?”

“Mmm?”

“How did you know?…”

Neteyam propped himself up on his elbows to look at his brother, that was sitting again, staring again.

“How did you know you were in love?

It was Neteyam’s turn to be speechless. In love? He knew Lo’ak had a crush, but didn’t realise how deep it ran. He thought about it for a long while, mind wandering to you, to your currently messy situation.

“Hmm… that’s a heavy question, brother. It might be a little different for me than for you. You see, I have loved her my whole life. Loving her has always been as easy as the air I breathed - as necessary, too. I don’t actually know the moment I fell in love with her, because it was not sudden. Back when we were younger, every once in a while, she would say something, or look at me a certain way, and my breath hitched in my throat… she’d laugh or smile up and her eyes gleamed in a way I only saw the night stars do, and my mind went blank. But over time, it happened more and more, until one day every touch, every glance, every moment gave me the same sensation, until I couldn’t be around her without turning into a mess of musings and feelings. There was one moment, the first moment, when I remember thinking ‘Shit, I am in love with her, what I am going to do?’. I think we were about 16 at the time, and I had sneaked out of our tent to go spend the night with her. We used to do this a lot, but that night, she fell asleep earlier than she normally does, and she fell asleep on my chest. I could feel her ribcage go up and down every time she took a breath. I think she had a cold, because her nose was blocked and she was snoring a little, and I just watched her. And I had never been happier, than in that moment, just holding her in my arms, and feeling her sleeping on me… and then she said my name. She was dreaming, and she said my name. And it was with love, with yearning, and my whole heart just stopped. And I knew then, that I could no longer hide, I could no longer pretend that what I felt for her was anything less than everything. That I would give her everything I have, that I am, for as long as there is still breath in my lungs.”

“Lo’ak, when you are in love, you will know. And if you are, then I am happy for you, little brother. Because despite the hurt, and the pain and the fights, there is no better feeling in the world. And if she’s the one, then she’s lucky to have someone like you.”

You finish grilling some fresh fish on the fire pit in your Marui to feed Kiri, and if you could actually get her to eat it, you were going to celebrate. You couldn’t blame her, having been in her position one too many times. In fact, if anyone could understand what she was going through, it was you.

“Please talk to me? I know you may not want to, but it’s me… you used to tell me everything. And whatever it is, we can work through it together. We always have, no? It’s always been you and me, the two girls with scientist human mothers and no dads? The two girls who used to watch endless hours of video logs and read through encyclopaedias, the girls who used to theorise about who our dads were, what they liked, what traits we got from them? I’m still the same person… just a little bluer, and a little taller, but still me.”

“I saw my mum… you know? The same way you did.”

Your mouth fell agape, but you tried to focus on being calm, so as to not startle her into silence once again.

“Did she say anything?”

“We hugged… it was so nice. It felt like home. We were back in the forest. I asked… I asked her why am I different. I asked her who my father was. But she didn’t answer. She was just taken from me, pulled from my arms and into the abyss. That’s all I remember.” Her eyes were leaking soft tears, and you went to her side and hugged her. She reciprocated, holding you close. “It was so scary…”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

“You said you had a whole conversation with your mother. Why did the Great Mother not allow me to do the same?”

You thought about it for a second, needing to choose your words carefully.

“I think the Great Mother is very careful as to what escapes her, because the knowledge that our ancestors, the people who have reached that plane have is beyond us. It’s beyond what we’re supposed to know. I think when Grace was about to share something that could potentially change the course of your life, your future, Eywa stopped her. Because I don’t think we’re supposed to know, we are supposed to live our lives with no outside interference.”

“But what could she have told me about my dad that was so dangerous, so monumental that Eywa had to stop it?”

You bit the inside of you lip aggressively and wondered if the Great Mother would strike you down if you opened your mouth in that moment. To be fair, all you had were theories, so maybe you should keep them to yourself.

“I don’t know, Kiri… All I know is that you are special. And that’s something to be celebrated, not hidden.”

A couple of hours later, you were ready to go diving, and a smile broke through as you watched Neteyam and Lo’ak walk back to your tent, laughing and pushing each other playfully. It was good to see them together again, it was good to see them be brothers again, like they used to be when you were all young. Neteyam’s face split in a dazzling smile, that took your breath away, when he spotted you, and your heartbeat rose as you took him in, those beaded braids flinging from side to side, his imposing yet boyish walk that you found so attractive, those piercing eyes and that beautiful smile, all there to make your tail swish furiously, a dead giveaway for your emotions. He didn’t say anything as he approached you, but took your face in his hands and kissed you, like nobody was there or watching, like the whole world was a mere void around you, like it was the first time. You were surprised and a little shy, knowing Lo’ak and Kiri were right there, but you reciprocated, melting into him, as you always did, and appreciating the very rare public display of affection. You were dizzy when he let you go, pressing his lips to yours gently one more time, and you laughed at the peculiarity of the act.

“What was that for?”

“I just really really love you. And I am very grateful to have you. And sometimes I feel I take for granted what we have, this meteor-strike, one-of-a-kind love that somehow beat all odds. I forget how you have been the only constant in my whole life, how you are the only one I have ever seen, in this whole world. I let frustrations get the best of me, and I am bad at communicating, and I am so so sorry.”

You looked at him incredulously, and then at Lo’ak. “What did you do to my mate?”

“Nothing, Angel. He got there all on his own, if you can believe that.”

You had no answer to that, as a loud horn was met with excited yelps and scream from all around you in the marui adjacent to yours. I think, whatever this was, it was safe to assume the deep water scavenging was cancelled.

You saw Tsireya on her ilu, waving her hand with a big smile on her face, as every villager around her dove in and got on their own.

“The tulkun have returned! Everybody, our brothers and sisters have returned!”

You eyes locked with Neteyam’s, and a wave of enthusiasm washed over you, and you took his hand and called one of your new little aquatic friends, wishing secretly it was Neyn instead, so you could share this moment with her. You both got in the water and on top of the same ilu, hurrying towards the spot everyone else was. You felt his hand slide up your thigh to hold you better in place, and as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen and placed your hands flush against his abs, you knew you had more than one thing to celebrate tonight.

The return of the tulkun was a spectacle few words can do justice. The mammoth beings played and breached and barrel rolled in the water, and you watched as their Metkayina brothers and sisters joined them, talking and catching up, sharing secrets and anecdotes gathered in their time apart. Both you and your mate were in awe at the events unfolding all around you, smiling from ear to ear and holding your hands tightly together. This was love, and you knew it too well, you felt it around you and within you, you felt it in him.

This amazing rare encounter marked a time for celebration among the tribe, and festivities would be underway soon and last for a couple of days. Tsireya said it is the best time of the year, with dancing, and singing and communal dinners and communion with Eywa to give thanks for the safe return of their spiritual brothers and sisters.

It was everything she promised and more, and once again you found yourself reminded of the beautiful customs of the Omatikaya, and how much all the celebrations nuzzled their way deep into your heart, to never be forgotten, to always be yearned for. It was unlike anything else, the feeling of community as you all danced together, girls courting their prospective mates, boys watching entranced at the beauty and grace of it all. The drums that beat in sync with your heart, and how your voice filled the void with music from your home planet that the people accepted and encouraged, and then later on, began joining in for. You wondered if these would also start feeling the same in time, the more the forest began feeling like a long forgotten dream.

You and Neteyam slipped by unnoticed in the midst of the seemingly unending celebration. You were chuckling as he was chasing you, tugging playfully at your tail and soon enough, you reached a deserted plot of land, hidden behind some shrubbery. You laid down on the hard surface of a big flat rock, and you both sighed as you positioned your head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat and settling breath. You had your fights, and being with him was frustrating sometimes, as you were sure it was for him too, but damn, nothing in the world could ever measure up to this feeling. The feeling of his hand slowly caressing your bare back was sending shivers down your spine, and you raised a leg on top of his, getting closer to being so intertwined no would would be able to untangle you. He turned his body to the side, facing you now, and smiled softly at you, a look of melancholy pushing his eyebrows together. You brought your hand to his forehead and smoothed it out, caressing his cheek when you were done, action met with a quiet, low purr.

“Atan… I need you, so much.”

You kissed him, slowly at first, but as desire quickly overcame your senses, you were putty in the kiss, giving in to him as he deepened it, rolling you both until he was on top of you, one leg in between your own.

Neteyam moaned, overwhelmed as his consciousness was flooded by your scent, your taste, your body. His mind was in shambles as it was trying to understand the intensity of all the emotions coursing through his veins, from the arousal and need for you, to the formidable love his heart was barely able to contain in his chest, to the fear and confusion of the vision of you he was met with at the spirit tree and finally the deep seeded hurt at the unresolved conflicts still plaguing you both, still plaguing his dreams, feeding his insecurities.

As you were hurriedly tugging at his loincloth, trying to untie it without breaking the kiss, one emotion won by a landslide. His cock sprung free as you finally succeeded, slapping messily on your abdomen. Neteyam bent the leg that was in between yours, until it reached your core, and he felt a patch of wetness stain your cloth. You couldn’t help grinding on his leg, and the sight of you writhing underneath him, trying to get yourself off on him drove him mad. Whatever ounce of self-restraint went straight out the window, and he ripped your clothes swiftly away, plunging two digits into your wet core, twitching at your whimpering noises.

“I need you. Fuck, I need you so bad, Atan.”

You reached for your queue, begging to feel him, for some reassurance that you, what you had was alright, that despite all the mess you both made of each other, he was still him, and you were still you, forever intertwined, forever one. He looked at you, slight panic displayed all over his features, but eventually he brings his forth and the connection makes you knees wobbly and your mind fuzzy. It pains you, feeling him, feeling all the contradicting emotions taking over his soul, feelings the hurt and pain, the dread and affection, need and yearning, and trying to make sense of them all. What was on his mind? What could possibly be plaguing him to such an unnerving extent? It couldn’t all come from the past couple days, could it? You hoped your emotions would put his at ease, at least a little. Sure, you were a little upset, and somewhat worried for him, but that always paled in comparison to the ever-growing love and desire that nested deep in you, that started years ago, that will never falter.

You looked at his face, furrowed and pained, and you brought your hand up, caressing it slowly.

“Neteyam… what is wrong?”

He kissed you, forcefully, taking your jaw and holding you in one place, and you were scared of him, for him, you weren’t sure.

“Hey… stop.”

You pushed him away and he rolled over with a frustrated growl. You straddled him and lowered your body until you were face to face. “What is eating at you, Yawne (beloved)?”

He brought an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from you. You waited, knowing better than to push him. Eventually he removed his arm and you saw tears falling down the side of his face and onto the ground. Your heart broke at the sight, at the sight of your mate who was going through something you couldn’t understand, that he didn’t share with you.

“I feel like I’m losing you, like I’m going to lose you.”

The feelings of confusion and fear were perfectly clear on your face that was contorting to accommodate the emotions electrifying your being, but you tried your best to remain calm, as to not hurt him further.

“Neteyam… why would you say that? What happened at the Spirit Tree?”

You were met with silence, deep, unsettling silence, that rang more painfully in your ears than all the music that has been loudly enveloping the village for hours at this point.

“Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Eventually he did as he was told, and with blow after blow, you felt exhausted at his despairing look, that was mirroring the deep-seeded sadness in his soul, that you could feel through your still-intact bond.

You took his hands by the wrists and directed them to your body, on both sides of your abdomen.

“I’m here.”

You kissed him, softly and intensely, pouring your whole heart in it.

“I’m here.”

You took him, his whole impressive length in your hands and started pumping him, slowly, firmly, until he was moaning loudly beneath you.

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever again. Let me show you, that I am here, that I love you, that whatever this is, we will work through it, like we always do.”

You never got to do this - be in control. You never felt the need for it, you loved being his, being owned, wholly and completely, but you needed this now, he needed this now.

You continued pumping him and his look - parted lips, flushed cheeks, eyes tightly shot, ears pushed back, quick breaths and heart racing - drove you wild and the power you felt made liquid pool as you started grinding on him, looking for your own release. It felt good - too good, and sensing his worries melt away slowly only intensified it, and without being able to withstand it any longer, you got up and lined his cock to your sopping entrance and lowered yourself on him slowly, feeling every inch of him, allowing him to do the same. You both moaned in unison, and he got up, aligning your faces, looking deep into your eyes as you bottomed out, wobbly at how deep in you he was, at the maddening stretch that was almost too much to bear.

“I’m here. Do you feel this, feel me? Do you feel what you do to me, how you make me feel? I love you, I will always love you, it’s just you and me. Just you and me, forever.”

“Forever?”

You smiled and threw you head back, overwhelmed by all the sensations you were experiencing.

“Forever.”

You moaned, eyes tightly shut, hair tickling your lower back, that he grabbed and pulled on. You started moving, an agonising pace that didn’t last long as he grabbed your hips forcefully and lifted you off his dick and back on it, over and over, over and over, a ruthless back and forth that made you mewl and whimper, hysterical over how good it felt, how you knew this orgasm was going to rush over you like volcanic fire, leaving nothing in its wake but the ash of your trembling body. He knew you were close when you squeezed around him, and he increased the pace at which he was rutting upwards into you, animalistic desire overtaking his every conscious thought.

“I need you to come in me. I need to feel you in me, feel you filling me up, please.”

You were barely coherent, but he understood you amongst the moans and pleasured cries.

“Come for me, Atan. Let me feel you.”

You did just as you were told, as you always did - his words holding such power over you, and you felt your orgasm prolonging as thick spurts of his cum shot into you, filling you up and sliding down your ass. It was a holy experience, this feeling, this time with him, unlike anything else you have ever experienced, and you were happy to make out only positive emotions in his mind for now. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want this to end, and you stood like this, looking in each other’s eyes, kissing softly, filled to the brim, just like you loved to be.

You came back from your outing and left for the tent, spent and in need of respite. You left Neteyam with his family, and you were surprised to see little Tuk still up. She got on her feet when she saw you and jumped in your arms, which you were happy about, having felt a little disconnected from her recently.

“Hi, cutie, what are you still doing up?”

“I cannot sleep when everybody is away. I want to be dancing, too!”

“Oh, sweetie, you danced all night! It’s past your bedtime, you need to sleep a lot so you can get stronger. You want to be strong like your mummy and daddy, no?”

“I want to be strong like you!”

You let out a small cry at the words, a mantle of surprise engulfing you like a shroud. You needed this, you realise, needed her, needed to know you were still loved, you still had a family that would choose you, despite your many shortcomings, despite being different, despite being nothing new.

“I’m not that strong, baby. I need you to be stronger than me.”

Tuk crossed her arms around her chest in a defying motion, shaking her head furiously, a small pout gracing her beautiful features.

“No. You are strong. The strongest. You are smart, and kind and good with a bow, and a gun. You stand up to daddy even when Lo’ak and Neteyam don’t, and you’re the best ikran rider in the village!”

You laughed loudly at her unbridled praise, and found it funny how unreliable of a judge she was, but appreciative and grateful to know how she saw you, in spite of all your insecurities.

“Don’t say that in front of Neteyam!”

“So you don’t love Tsireya more than me?”

She gasped and circled your neck in a tight hug.

“Never. You’re my second mummy, you always will be.”

“That’s good to hear, baby.”

“Can you sing me to sleep?”

“Of course. Come on, scooch in.” Tuk made a temporary home in your lap, head propped in a comfortable position and legs sprawled all over her woven sleeping mat. You removed her hair out of her face and continued caressing her forehead in a calming motion, the same way your mum used to do for you when you were her age. You remembered a song from a movie you loved from back then, and you decided you needed to show it to Tuk one day, but for now, your singing would have to do.

Where the North wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river, all is found

Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear, and in her song, all magic flows

But can you brave what you most fear, can you face what the river knows?

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

Gideon stood and watched as Quaritch was burning yet another village in his quest to find Jake Sully. He was sick to his stomach at the damage this was doing to these innocent people. Gideon had no problem with murder. He had no problem with intimidation, or hurting people, but at least back on Earth, it was to protect his country. It was against people who were a threat to the security of everyone who lived in it, a potential threat to his family, to his daughter. He could justify it, the atrocious acts, and it would help him sleep at night. But this, all the things he has done since coming to Pandora, no matter how badly he knew he did it to save his daughter, that he had no choice, it still haunted him, giving him nightmare after nightmare he would never outlive.

“IT’S TORUK MAKTO! HAS HE BEEN HERE?” He winced as the rest of the crew was tasing villagers, as Quaritch pulled roughly on the queue of the Olo’eyktan, that he now knew how painful and connected to the rest of his being it was. He didn’t say anything - he couldn’t. Any intervention would be a risk he couldn’t take, not when his plan would warrant him instant death, not when he was so close to seeing you, to meeting you.

Quaritch came close to him and pulled him to the side.

“This shit ain’t working.”

“No,” Gideon said. “They’re stone-walling us.”

“If we turn up the heat, he’s just gonna keep running. We got to draw him out.”

Gideon looked back from Ikran at the burning village, and felt his own self-hatred eat at him, like a parasite, like a virus that would kill him slowly, driven mad by his inaction, by the feeling is his gut that what he was doing was just as bad, if not worse. The Recoms reached the ship that has been doubling as a home for a while, while they navigated the Eastern Sea and this seemingly never-ending archipelago. Scoresby, the captain of this ship and a grade A asshole was waiting on the deck of the ship, a furious look on his face.

“I’m over it. I’ve got quotas to meet.”

“You want to hunt? Let’s hunt.”

Everyone turned, shocked at the words coming out the colonel’s mouth. Even Scoresby, that psycho, couldn’t believe his ears.

“What? Here? Not here, there’s too many villages.”

“No, no no no.” the scientist, Dr. Ian Garvin interrupted, then hated himself for it, as dread clearly filled his eyes looking at the 10 foot tall solider in front of him. Gideon felt for the man, with whom he had a little more in common than he was willing to admit. A broken man, an alcoholic who came to Pandora with dreams and good intentions, his love for the planet and the science fueling his fire, a fire which was promptly snuffed out when he realised the never-ending depths of the depravity that surrounded this whole company that he was now working for. A marine biologist who had to watch as the beings he adulated were murdered brutally in front of him for profit, and he watched, like a coward, like Gideon.

“Respectfully, sir, you do not understand the kinship bonds between the Tulkun and the Ocean Na’vi. It would be like murdering a member of their family.”

“If we start hunting here, the hostiles will come after us.”

“Exactly. One hostile in particular.”

Gideon prayed Jake Sully was smarter than to fall for this, and he prayed for whatever little remained of his soul after this whole endeavour.

You woke up the next day sandwiched between your mate, who was snug behind you, snoring lightly in your ear, leg in between yours, and Tuk, whom you were keeping close to you, and whose hands you have been holding all night. You felt content, even despite the craziness of the past couple of days, and grateful for the people you were sharing a tent with. Things finally seemed to be looking up, you thought, as your swimming improved, and your relationship with Lo’ak mended, and your insecurities about Kiri and Tuk melted away a little. You were worried about Neteyam, but you hoped he would open up about whatever was eating at him soon, and you hoped you eased his mind a little last night.

You had a pleasant family day, laughing and chatting idly by the fire, enjoying the calming sounds of the rain falling all around you and hitting the water right outside your home. It was a short-lived comfort, however, as Tonowari towered at the entrance, dark haunted look marring his features. You all quieted taking him in, and your mum and dad, as well as you and Neteyam went to check on whatever it was that made him this way.

You were barely holding in tears as you neared the dreaded sight, the dead tulkun and her calf, both of them floating aimlessly, held up by orange floating bags with the RDA logo on it. You felt yourself hanging on tighter to your mate, squeezing your arms around his abdomen and letting out quiet sobs that were drowned out by Ronal’s. You watched as she dismounted her Tsurak and approached the departed pair, climbing so she could look in its now empty eyes. You look to your left at Jake and Neytiri, who had similar expressions to yours, and reached your hand for Neytiri’s, who squeezed it, both needing the comfort and the feeling of companionship in these trying times.

Pained wails escaped Ronal’s mouth as she took in the dead calf accompanying the mother.

“Her name is Ro’a.”

“She was my spirit sister. She was a composer of songs - much revered. We would sing together. She waited many breeding cycles to have this calf. The clan was so happy for her. What is this, Tonowari?”

“WHAT IS THIS?”

“What is this?” Tonowari barked. “Why is she marked?”

You were confused, but tapped Neteyam on the shoulder to take the ilu to where the chieftain was.

“It is probably just a way to distinguish them. A cruel way, but that’s humanity for you.”

You finally reached the other side of the tulkun, and looked at what everybody was appalled at. There was big, red, blinking rod, impaled deeply in her skin. Next to it, there was writing on the underside of the fin, carved with a knife. It was red, from the dry blood that spilled as it was drawn, and scarred slightly, meaning it wasn’t fresh. There wasn’t a lot of blood, or any drippings as gravity pushed it down, so you concluded it was done after the tulkun was killed.

“Can you understand it?” Ronal said in a scathing voice, more a snarl than actual words.

“No, it’s not English.”

You looked at it, and stupor overcame you, but you tried your best to maintain your composure. Breathe… breathe… breathe.

To Jake this might mean nothing, but to you it did. It was a language you didn’t know well, but you knew enough to understand. Your mum taught you some of it when you were a baby, telling you it was the language her and your dad spoke to each other when they wanted to not be heard, when they wanted something for themselves.

“Tonight. Midnight.

10 km E of village, deserted island.

Come alone.”

“Kid, can you understand it? You’re the smartest one here.”

“No, Jake, I can’t. Sorry.”

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr

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braveheartstoryteller · 1 year ago

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"Actually, we kind of like gettin' dragged into your messes." Goofy in Re:coded Playing Re:coded added to my understanding of both the story of Re:coded (which the cutscene version does not do justice), and of the character of Sora. In light of one of my recent posts, I'd like to take a look at Sora through the lens of this story. From what I can tell, both Sora and Data-Sora share the same backstory. Kairi isn't mentioned, but I think it is safe to assume she'd be a part of that story. This is important to me, because it shows that Data-Sora's characterization is the same as Sora's. But from there, Data-Sora's story diverges, and because of that divergence, he changes. As an aside, as a storyteller I find the comparison between Sora and Data-Sora interesting because it shows how a character's journey changes them. But anyway I digress, let's look at the divergence. After gaining a keyblade, Data-Sora finds himself on his island, now full of bugblox. While looking around, wondering what to do, he hears a voice, the voice of Mickey. Who then guides him in what to do, and tells Data-Sora that if he needs help, he only has to call for it. This stays as bit of a constant through the story, except for the very end. Eventually, like the original, Data-Sora loses the keyblade. But unlike Sora's short experience without it, and with a side of betrayal and loneliness, Data-Sora choses to go off alone in search of Data-Riku who has been now captured by Maleficent. This sets off a sequence of events that was to me the coolest part of the game: Data-Sora's discovery of what it means to rely on others. First off, the game hits it home just how powerless Data-Sora is at that time without the keyblade by trapping him in a prison of Blox and heartless, conjured by Pete. Goofy then comes to his rescue, freeing him from his prison. However, when confronted by Goofy about his actions, he apologizes, clearly showing remorse for his actions. Goofy on the other hand, is actually here to help, and won't hear of it, to the point that when Data-Sora makes to leave the castle, Goofy is surprised. Data-Sora himself is surprised and relieved that Goofy isn't mad and follows him. This starts a time, that which goes on a while, where Data-Sora is forced to rely on Goofy and then Donald, for protection and support. It is fascinating to me just how it felt to play through this. Instead of fighting directly, you're watching the other's health, directing them where they need to go and do, and to top it all off, in the English version of the game, the command "ask for help" replaces the normal attack command. In fact the sequence accumulates to a point where you have this prolonged battle, which you have to play support to Donald and Goofy and try not to die yourself in that time. It works so well to drive home this idea of reliance on others. An idea, that Data-Sora seems to take to heart. At the end the sequence, Data-Sora gets his keyblade back when he needs to help others the most, and only then. It is that connection with the others, who he now knows will support him even when he fails them, that he finds his own strength to protect who matter to him. He seems to know, in my mind at least that "my friends are my power, and I'm theirs." In fact in the game Donald and Goofy tell Data-Sora just that. "Our friend is our power! And we'll always be his!" It's right after this that Data-Sora regains the power of the keyblade. Seemingly connecting these two ideas together.

There is much more to Data-Sora's story, but this is to me the crux of the difference between Data-Sora and Sora. Just the fact he knows what it means to be supported, makes all the difference.

#kingdom hearts #kh sora #kh data-sora #kingdom hearts re:coded #storytelling #character study #deep dives

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l-una-c · 5 months ago

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More schala thoughts ahead CT spoilers (and a little bit of cross spoilers too) Anyways... I think a lot of people shy away from the interpretation of Schala merging with Lavos to form the Dream/Time Devourer as being something that she was at least a partially willing participant in. It's out of character, or she just lacks agency entirely, etc. Sure, that's an interpretation. But think about if it wasn't - as the DD, she talks about a desire to destroy everything, all of existence. What would drive someone portrayed as so kind to do this? Well. Schala's essentially the Omelas kid. She's condemned - either as the Arbiter of the Mammon Machine to essentially be the key to "immortality" for everyone in Zeal, or, afterwards, she's doomed to essentially live in the Darkness Beyond Time, a place where it's reasonable to assume that she's supposed to die, or, barring that, live, forever, unaging, in a void outside of time. That would be bad enough, but she has to do it with Lavos of all things. Her only stimulation is watching entire worlds in front of her live and die, and the constant, hammering voice of the very creature that doomed her to this fate. The party, theoretically, could have saved her from this with the Chrono Trigger, but they didn't, they chose to save Crono. Hard choice, I know, but it could have happened the other way around. The living are more important than the dead, after all. But instead, on Schala's end, she's basically condemned to this existence just to defeat Lavos. And I'm sure it's fine, at least for a while. If you're sacrificed to save the world, well, I'm sure most of us could be okay with that. For a while. But how does time pass there, exactly? She could have been needled for eons, kept in this place of darkness for what feels like an eternity. Enough time for even the Omelas child to go mad. I've been upset enough to wish for an apocalypse. But imagine if you are, and there's no reprieve from it, and you're expected to sit and suffer in the void. Forever. But with a key to power to enact that wish right in front of you, in the form of the thing that ruined your entire life. You could seize it, attempt to take control, at the cost of, well, all of spacetime. Maybe she did control, it maybe she didn't. And she sent everything about herself that she loved, everything that made her mortal, out from there in the form of a child that she doesn't even get to embody. She's still stuck there. So it's a choice. A hard one, a bad one, but it's a choice she gets to make. People shock themselves in a room when left alone with an electric buzzer. Sure, men are more likely to do so, but really, how much longer would it take for a woman to crack? I'm sure it would occur to any of us. We all say we wouldn't have looked back at our lover as we leave the underworld, but when you're in that position, it's a different story. And Schala? She looked back.

#chrono trigger #schala zeal #schala #im never not insane about her #also read parasite's love song by multiversal-bridge on here #my favorite schala fic #so sad also

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pinkpuffballdude · 2 years ago

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okay I am thinking So intently about the Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality, putting this under a cut because it's allllll speculation and BIG spoilers for the second/third season

like. okay. I'm thinking about the man with the voice like honey and chocolate and coffee. I'm thinking about his motivations.

the things I know about him, that he's been involved in are:

the dancing plague/Pied Piper/other mass hysteria thing

the success of Johnny Samuels Bluesmusician

the dreams where he replaces you

the survey Guide did at the end of that one tour where he stole your keys

reuploading Guide as he was after Hours if not Weeks of wandering the museum

things I think he's been involved in:

Jacob and his mirror

the actor and his clones

things Guide thinks he's been involved with:

the lockdown

I don't think he's the cause of the lockdown. Guide said that it looked like the security guard had shot himself, and the man with the voice only showed up three months later, well after his death.

I do think that his showing up in your dream, the nostagic flashback, is... okay, for me it felt very indicative of his character? to recap, the dream was about a more or less mundane moment, eating dinner with your family on some kind of trip, except there is a man there, and you go unnoticed. as soon as you are noticed, everyone acts like you're not supposed to be there, and the man gets up and as he walks closer his face distorts into your face and he says that you're not supposed to be here, this is his life now

and then you wake up.

additionally, the agreement he made with Flatshoe had the condition that he would one day return the favor, no elaboration. the story/ies about mass hysteria had him helping people for no fee, and then welcoming them when they came back. tbh I'd read that as him pulling a first one's free, luring them in so they'd come to rely on him and his song.

all of his stories have him taking advantage of people, of tricking them somehow and letting them play into his hands. but he isn't cruel. it's important, that he doesn't hurt people for the sake of it. he took Johnny too soon, realized his mistake, and gave him a new (and arguably improved) body, letting him roam the earth as some kind of spirit. it's unclear if Johnny will ever be able to fulfill his end of the deal now, due to being. incorpereal, but the man did this anyway. in the dream, he doesn't do anything until your family notices your presence, simply laughing and talking and enjoying their company. he never spoke to Guide, possibly so that he wouldn't clock on to his identity, or maybe to keep him from... hurting him somehow? that's pure speculation, though I like the idea that any recording of the man's voice would drive someone to madness, and since Guide is all recordings, he chose not to take that risk. it's a nice thought.

I don't think he wants people dead, is my point. I don't think he wants power, necessarily, or to destroy the Museum or its people simply because. the only description we have of this man is his voice, nothing of his self, or even his physical apperance, excepting that he's "handsome". he could be anything. his apperance shifts, when it needs to, almost regardless of whether or not he wants it to; he is powerful beyond belief; he is so, so lonely.

I think he wants to be real.

#audio tour guide referred to as Guide throughout #cause 'the tour guide' feels. impersonal. and unweildy.#ANYWAY I love the man with a voice like honey and chocolate and coffee and I hope he isn't evil and also does/has good things #the mistholme museum of mystery morbidity and mortality #oh thank god that was an already existing tag #true story #LIKE okay I'll reblog this in a moment with some screenshots kaldhfskl

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apompkwrites · 4 years ago

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love in their own way || albedo, childe, xiao, zhongli

masterlist characters: albedo, childe, xiao, zhongli genre: fluff summary: in which their s/o's aren't as forward about their emotions, but still manage to have their little tells that express their love. notes: i hope this meets the request! i had a lot of fun writing this! i just want the boys to be happy :)

albedo -

i like to think albedo is secretly clingy but doesn't allow himself to show it to anyone.

naturally, it's just because he's always holed up with his work.

when he consciously does it... it's because he's nervous.

remember the end of his quest when he's talking to himself at dragonspine?

that's why he's nervous.

anyway!!

he's not too bothered by the fact that you're more reserved.

he has a lot of work so he can't really dwell on the idea for too long.

just you being there when he's working is good enough for him :D

as we all know, this boy is very into experimentation and learning.

so trying to decipher your minuscule facial changes is actually really interesting to him!

he has a bunch of notes just on the little details he can find about you.

and since he's so observant, it doesn't take him long to realize that there are certain signs that only appear around him.

he'll notice them when he's painting you.

whenever he's waiting for results, he'll use the time to draw you <3

because he's done this, he practically has you memorized.

so imagine his surprise when he sees your expression change whenever he leaves your sight.

it takes him a while to actually be able to see this, but i'm sure it's because of timaeus and sucrose.

after all, they're around you a lot whenever albedo is busy.

they probably take a picture to show him something they did while he was gone and that's when he notices.

he doesn't even have to look at a different picture of you.

he can just tell you look different.

the little crinkle next to your eyes was gone.

your lips were more pursed than usual.

you now had a crease in between your brows you didn't have before.

the next time he sees you, he'll hold up the picture next to your face to confirm they're different.

he wants to ask why there's a "clear" difference in your appearance but he already knows why.

he'll ask you just to be sure, though--

your cheeks get a tiny tiny bit darker when you answer wholeheartedly.

it does make him chuckle when he hears that you're so smitten for him in your monotonous voice.

the picture sucrose and timaeus took isn't his favorite of you, so he ends up taking a new one when you two are both exploring dragonspine.

it's a reminder of how much you really love him <3

childe -

out of the four boys here, he's definitely (in my opinion) the most affectionate.

like, this boy will take whatever he can get to just hold you for a second.

especially if you're also from snezhnaya but came all the way to liyue to keep him company.

he's very family-oriented as we've seen, so he treasures these relationships.

now, with an unaffectionate s/o?

honestly, i don't think he'd be too upset about it.

like i said, he really treasures these familial relationships.

because of this, it's his top priority to make sure you feel comfortable in the relationship.

he won't necessarily keep his distance, but he won't be too clingy either.

he'll stand right beside you, enough to where you can almost feel his skin touching yours.

as for your expressionlessness...

it'll take him a bit to really understand how you're feeling.

it's a lot of communication because he doesn't want to mess anything up.

near the beginning of the relationship, he'd ask how you're feeling and if there's anything bothering you.

but once he finally notices the subtle differences in your face, such as a slight eyebrow raise or a tilt of the head, he'll be able to read you easier.

nothing too complex, but just enough for him to tell your emotions.

there is one subtle change that he always looks for, however.

he's realized, with the help of zhongli of course, that there is a specific characteristic that only happens when he's in your line of sight.

your lips are normally pressed in a fine line.

however, around him, the corners lift up ever-so-slightly.

the only reason he's able to see it is that he'll catch himself staring at your lips because he wants a kiss :)

once he sees that, he starts noticing your little quirks whenever you're around him.

you'll lean closer to him as you're walking through liyue harbor.

your eyes start to soften as he talks on and on about his day (and complains about scaramouche--).

he loves the idea that all of these little details about you only happen around him,

it makes him feel... important.

and loved.

even if he holds back from touching you, he'll settle for seeing your cold exterior melt around him.

xiao -

he's not too well versed in affection...

i mean, he's the vigilant yaksha that is known for being stoic just like you are.

you two are basically carbon copies of each other.

no affection and no clear expressions of love.

people (who know both you and xiao) often forget that you two are actually together.

like, they just think you two sit in silence when you're both tired of dealing with people.

they... aren't necessarily wrong.

the two of you are often found sitting at the balcony looking over liyue.

sometimes you bring him almond tofu to share :)

it's very rare for the two of you to actively show your love for each other, mainly because you both know your feelings.

although... xiao does have those moments.

it's not like he's completely oblivious to the whispers about you two.

and on the days where his karma acts up, he gets insecure.

he's... really scared that one day you'll leave just like the others.

it doesn't matter if you're a mortal or an adeptus, he's scared that one day he'll wake up and you'll be gone.

and if that ever comes, he's scared you'll pass on either doubting your feelings or his.

it doesn't help when he notices the difference in your attitude and appearance when he's around.

his first instinct is that he's doing something bad.

either you're angry or upset at his mere existence...

verr goldet's the one who has to explain why you seem different.

she's quite observant on her own, especially because you're the first person that xiao actively enjoys being around.

she'll be the one to tell him that it isn't because you're mad at him.

you have minuscule changes because that's how xiao makes you feel.

you're so soft around him and she can tell just from the small interactions she's seen of you.

for example, when you're talking to the chef downstairs, you have the same expression that xiao has when he's talking to people.

you're annoyed but you know how to handle it.

but when you're around xiao, it's like everything that bothers you disappears.

it's like you're in your own domain whenever he's around.

nothing else matters except for him.

and even if she's relying on small observations and pure intuition, she can tell that the changes are good.

your eyes that seem to look anywhere besides the person you are talking to are completely different from the ones that seem to only focus on xiao.

your normally stiff body relaxes every time you summon xiao at the balcony.

the tiny smile that graces your lips when you disappear to the top of the inn for hours on end.

verr goldet's explanation calms his heart.

his worries seem to disappear and the next time he sees you...

this is the one thing his karma can't take away. he'll be sure of it.

zhongli -

zhongli is also another person who isn't well versed in relationships.

although he isn't as inexperienced as xiao, it'll take some time for him to figure it out.

he's not someone who craves affection like it's the only thing keeping him alive.

he definitely would appreciate it but he completely understands that it isn't something you tend to give.

so instead, he'll show his love in the smaller things.

such as telling you stories, sharing tea, going out on walks, etc.

he's another person who is very observant, especially in people close to him.

his storytelling friends often ask him about your relationship with one another.

they try to bring it to his attention that you may not be as interested as he thinks you are.

of course, he'll simply laugh them off and tell them that they should listen to the person who knows you best.

he'll turn those questions into a big story and explain how they're mistaken about you.

he's never actively told anyone this, save for hu tao who tries to bug him into telling her, but he'll tell them about all of the tiny details that tell him your feelings.

when you're feeling upset, you puff out your cheeks a small bit.

when you're angry, your glare hardens at whatever is making you mad.

when you're happy, your lips part slightly.

when you're in love... well, that's a detail he'll keep for himself.

he's quick to say goodbye to his peers, practically rushing back to your shared home.

he's greeted by you as soon as he opens the door.

your stoic expressions... would be exactly the same to anyone else.

but to him, it's like you've lit up like a small puppy seeing their human parents come home after years.

you don't run up to him, but you turn to look at him and away from the book on the table.

he'll greet you with a quiet nod, pulling out the chair and sitting next to you.

he'll take the book from you, taking in your appearance for a moment.

your shoulders relax by a hair and you move your chair an inch closer to his.

you don't lean your head on his shoulder but you lean towards him as if you were about to.

it's these moments that make everything worth it to zhongli.

here, in your home and in your life, he's simply zhongli.

the man you fell in love with and allowed your reserved self to open up to.

and he would trade anything just to have these moments with you.

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anotherhawk · 3 years ago

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Mechtober Day 21 - The Trials

A/N - the story wandered a bit from the prompt.

Daedalus lay bleeding on the floor, his shoulder, leg and plans in tatters. The vault door was sealed, and he knew it was never going to open again, even if he wanted it to.

A tree. All of this...for a tree. How indescribably pointless.

Footsteps broke into his confusion, and voices as they grew closer.

"...there are so many stories in this City. Why is this one so important?" Hades. That was Hades' voice. His erstwhile conspirator. Of course they'd had their own agenda.

"You're the one who involved themself so completely."

"I did. And I know why it's important to me. But what makes you care about this story?"

"It has a happy ending. Brian's been nagging me about how 'everything I write ends in madness, murder and despair', so I thought I'd prove him wrong."

Footsteps crunched into the doorway. "Mmmm. Rather a lot of dead bodies for a happy ending, yeah?"

"I don't see what that has to do with it. If the characters are still alive then it's not an ending, is it?"

Daedalus could see them both now. Hades looked the same as always, tall, beautiful and completely unstoppable. Their companion was smaller, dressed in a long coat with a pair of goggles perched on his head. The two of them were sharing a cigarette, passing it back and forth.

"Ew, I just stepped in a poet," the man said, lifting up his boot to look at the underside.

"Orpheus. Damn, the Toy Soldier is going to be disappointed. It was very fond of his voice."

"Was it planning on stealing it?"

"Who the fuck can tell? I'll grab the lyre and take it back as a souvenir. Can never have too many instruments, right?"

"The stage manager at our last gig would disagree."

"Yeah, and now he's dead, so what does that tell you?"

"Good point...huh. Looks like Daedalus is still alive. I didn't expect that." As he spoke he crossed the room and crouched down, looking at Daedalus curiously.

Daedalus tried to say something, tried to force out the words that would turn this situation to his advantage, but all he could muster was a desperate croaking noise.

"Huh," Hades agree, moving now to stand over both of them. "I could kill him if it, bothers you. If he's preventing your 'happy ending'."

He turned away to look up at them. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. In the scheme of things, he's hardly important. More a deus ex machina than an actual character."

In all his centuries, no one had ever accused Daedalus of being unimportant before. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood, and imagined all the myriad ways he would make this lower level dog beg.

"Besides," the man went on. "He'll die soon enough anyway. They all do."

Daedalus had no intention of dying any time soon. His grasp on immortality was as strong as any Olympian.

There was silence, for a moment. Or...not silence. There was a ticking coming from somewhere. From the man...his chest. Did he have a mechanical heart? Maybe it was the blood loss, but for a moment Daedalus could imagine a great and terrible machine, a mechanism invading every atom of its host's being, keeping him alive at all costs.

Yes...yes...that would work. That would keep him from the acheron forever, and make him rich enough that he could own The City.

"Ooh, shiny!" Hades picked the Eye of the Cyclops from off the floor and picked it up. "What do you think, Jonny? I bet Aurora could use this somewhere."

The man - Jonny - stood, and dusted off his coat, not sparing Daedalus a second glance. "If not we could always fence it at our next stop. Or turn it into an attractive ornament."

"Or burn it," Hades suggested brightly.

"Yeah. Or burn it. Are we done here?"

"I think so." Hades looked around at the corpses. "It's a shame, really. When old Daedly over there first approached me, I thought that maybe we could just be the suits and do the trials ourselves."

"Yeah?" They both started to walk away. Leaving Daedalus in the blood and the rust and the dark, plotting his revenge.

"Yeah. Raphaella or Ivy could easily manage the trial of wits, you and the Toy Soldier could do the Trial of Song, and any of us could manage the Trial of Love."

"True…so what changed your mind?"

"Didn't think any of us could manage to turn a big wheel."

"Ah. Fair point."

#mechtober the unofficial #mechtober 2021 #mechtober #ulysses dies at dawn #jonny d'ville #ashes o’reilly #my writing #the mechanisms #the mechs

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

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—pocket heroes headcanons

mtha thots: it’s that time of year again where i start projecting my daily academic existential crises on the mha characters. i’ve had this idea in my head for months and got pages of brain rot fading away in my documents, so i’ve decided to stop being selfish and start sharing w some simple hcs. i hope you enjoy it <3

warnings: none

reference for the banner

context: pocket heroes are a new phenomenon to the world. the whispers that spread by ear say they are tiny humans dressed in hero-like costumes that support you when you need it most. many don’t believe in them and blame it on overactive imagination. but the very few who know the truth, say otherwise. they say you can’t find a pocket hero, but your pocket hero finds you when they’re ready. luckily for you, your tiny friend made an appearance and is stuck to you like glue!

Midoriya Izuku:

this little guy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

izu is on the shorter side standing only about 3 ¾ inches tall

but don’t let that height fool you bc he’s a ball of energy!

he’s a chatterbox so if that’s not your game, good luck sis

but he’s so cute and his voice is so tiny how could you not love him

your pocket hero is so encouraging of you

for every assignment, he’ll sit by your hand and cheer you on

it’s impossible to give in to temptation and skip an assignment/call off work bc he’ll puff his chubby cheeks out and pout

he knows it’s tough, but you can do it! there’s nothing you can’t do!

although, if you need to take a break for your mental health, he’ll immediately stop and climb up into your neck to comfort you

makes posters with sticky notes he finds around bc he’s your biggest fan

sits by you during class and takes his own notes so that you two can compare

he doesn’t want you to miss anything important

you get such good grades bc of deku ong

izuku’s fav place to be is in your shirt pocket or in your cleavage, behind the collar of your shirt with his little head sticking out

it’s bc he likes to be near to your heart

it makes him feel safe and close to you

if you get really stressed out, izu will cry for you

he hates it when you’re distressed and won’t be able to think clearly until you’re okay

his whimpers are so sad it literally pains my heart

your pocket hero loves when you bring him up to your cheek so he can latch on and nuzzle you

he’s highkey attached to your hip

he’s not afraid to use puppy dog eyes if you tell him he needs to stay home when you go out

7 times out of 10, you give in

but when it’s necessary for him to stay, he’ll sadly mope around until he hears the door open and runs to you

deku’s got this huge smile on his face that could make the coldest man crack

his tiny footsteps are so cute ughhhh

uses ofa to jump to your face so you can catch him and give him cuddles until he’s satisfied

i adore him

Bakugo Katsuki:

katuski stands at a whopping 4 ½ inches which is about average

but this particular pocket hero has a bad case of small dog syndrome

make fun of how small he is at your own risk

bc this little dude bites

bakugo’s a hardass about your responsibilities

like the man will not let you procrastinate!

over his dead body

if he catches you slipping, he’ll pull on your ear lobes

screams at you and threatens to blow you up with his tiny explosions too for good measure

you don’t have the heart to tell him his quirk feels like a flick from a two year old

his yelling is kinda scary tho despite sounding like a preschool kid on helium

nevertheless, pls trust that this little guy loves you and only wants the best for you

you don’t catch how he gets up extra early every morning and organizes your desk to the best of his abilities (some of your stuff is heavy)

or how he’ll spend hours going through your music and making playlists to help you study

bakugo complains about doing it, but he’s always down to go through flashcards with you

he’s a smart cookie and has got a keen memory so trust he won’t let you half-ass/forget any important assignments and exams

a mother hen

if you have at least three inches of hair, bakugo likes to stand on the top of your head and tug on your strands to “make you move” like you're under his control

yes, he has an evil laugh

you humor him every time

although, there was one time you threw your head to the side and he almost fell off bc he called you a bad word and you weren’t having it

it hasn’t happened again since

doesn’t go there often bc he wants to be all tough, but his fav place to be is in the crook of your neck where it’s warm and he can feel close to you

pls reward him for good behavior w a lil kiss

he’ll tell you you're being gross and make a big show of wiping your “germs” away

but he secretly loves it

there was one time you didn’t peck him for a week and he actually got nervous in an angry kind of way

asked if you were mad at him in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him use

also stomps when he’s angry

pls he’s like the cutest most annoying alarm clock

i love him

Todoroki Shouto:

if izu and katsuki are the angel on your right, shouto’s the devil on your left

don’t get me wrong, the little guy will suggest you do your work

but…if you can still get the grade you want and skip out on a few things, who is he to say otherwise

a strong advocate of work smarter, not harder LMAOOO

you secretly think it’s bc he likes to take as many naps as he can with you

anyways, shouto is about 4 ¾ inches in height give or a take a couple centimeters

he’s got an unnaturally deep voice for a pocket hero

he’s very quiet, reserved most times, and will be your silent support as you go about your day

but pls don’t think he doesn’t have the slickest mouth known to man just bc he’s quiet

there was one time you asked your teacher a question and they were being difficult

you went back and forth for a few min, failing to notice the irritation growing on todoroki’s face

then he just blurted out, “and you’re supposed to have a degree in education?”

thankfully, your teacher didn’t hear him but when I tell you your heart dropped

you can’t take this man nowhere

he’s just a very sassy pocket hero

you get some lip from him too sometimes but threaten to take away his soba and he’ll shut up real quick

shouto likes to hang out on top of your head and lay there

also likes to sit on your shoulder and idly swing his legs

when you’re both bored in class, he’ll make little ice sculptures to get you more alert

you let him read articles out to you bc his voice is really soothing

todo lives for head pats or when you gently scratch his head with your finger

he’ll chase your finger if you pull away too soon

you think he purrs but shouto won’t admit to anything

when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll raise his arms up signaling for you to hold him in your hand

it’s annoying sometimes bc you need to take notes or something but does it look like this boy cares?

pick him up now!

if you get stressed, he makes you put down whatever you're doing and drink some water

forces you to take a nap if it’s really bad

all pocket heroes have a reserved “bed” so their caretaker doesn’t harm them when they sleep, but todoroki is wiling to risk death if it means curling up on your chest

your heartbeat helps him sleep easier

i wanna protect him at all costs

im no longer accepting requests!

#izuku midoriya #bakugo katsuki #todoroki shouto #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #pocket heroes

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sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities.

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #albus dumbledore

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanon/fic: "Tom with superpowers"

Reader x Tom Hiddleston/Loki

Gender neutral reader

Context: in the same world that happens the whole Avengers situation, Marvel releases the movies. You get a job as health assistant in the franchise, helping the injured actors while they train. There, you met Tom Hiddleston, and... maybe someone else too.

Loki won his reputation in Midgard the wrong way, since the whole New York incident. You knew him well as the selfish psychopath you thought he was.

But ever since you started working in Marvel, you got a bit into the story and past of him and understood his character better. You thought he was quite charming.

Actually, you thought Tom Hiddleston, his actor, was more than charming.

You met him on a rainy day. Your scrubs were soaking wet, since you've come to work by walking (a terrible idea) and the rain caught you in the middle.

Someone in the entrance told you to get something dry from the lost & found box, and so you did.

A nice and warm hoodie replaced the top of your scrubs and you started drying your hair with a towel as you walked on set.

"Excuse me", said a deep and harmonious voice, touching your shoulder. "I think that belongs to me".

You lifted your gaze at the stranger and as soon as you met his eyes, both were speechless.

Tom Hiddleston in person. God, the man was even more beautiful than through a screen. You smiled nervously as he smirked. He didn't take his eyes off you for a second.

"What?", you finally said.

"You have my hoodie".

"Oh, I'm... I'm really sorry. I was... anyways, I'm giving it back now" you tried to articulate, still choking on your words. He noticed you were nervous and didn't comment on it. What a gentleman, you thought.

"Give it back in dinner, would you?" he said suddenly, yet smoothly. You had to blink twice to realize what he just said. "Meet you at eight in the doorway? I'll take you somewhere nice and quiet".

Your mind was off for the rest of the day, until dinner came along. Your coworkers noticed your brain was somewhere else than in the present, but they didn't say anything; they kind of figured Tom would've asked you out. They saw how he smiled at you on set the whole day.

Dinner was perfect, and so were the other five, six, seven...

You started dating very frequently. Always kept it down, avoiding the press rumors, avoiding paparazzis, keeping private life... well, private.

If there was something you definetly loved about him, was his passion. He was passionate about everything he spoke about. And he was even more passionate about listening to you talking.

And when you spoke your mind off about how Loki was misunderstood, and such a good character, such an interesting person (well, God); he listened.

Sometimes you could catch a glimpse of him being still on character. He'd say or do something and you'd answer "your Loki is showing", and he'd get all nervous and blushed.

You always wondered why. It's normal for actors to slip away something of their characters sometimes. Why did he get so embarrassed about it?

It was even more in interviews. He'd hide pretty well those assets that you'd connect so much to Loki's personality, afraid he might not "look Tom enough".

Already years into the relationship, you have already made it public. You still worked for Marvel and spent a lot of time on set, and sometimes you walked in some interviews.

There was this specific interview where you walked accidentally in the room, and he greeted you, with the camera running, with the most Loki tone of voice possible.

"Hello, baby".

Tom never called you baby. Not even when you called him daddy. He'd call you darling, dear, beloved, my love, my sweet, sweetheart, lover... but baby? Never that.

As soon as he realized those foreign words slipping out of his tongue, his face straightened and went into what you'd call his 'dark mode', a very serious face he made when his inner Loki spilled out of his words.

The 'dark mode' only could be described as the face someone does when making a big, irreparable mistake. Like saying the words he should've never said.

And it only faded away when he realized you didn't notice it. Like he was hiding a big secret from you, and those words would give him away.

But they never did, and he always relaxed his face to see that you were unaware of what he was hiding.

"Baby..." you recalled that same night, wrapped around in the warmth of the blankets. "You went all Loki today. But I like it. It fits you so well".

He stared at you from the doorstep, holding a book he promised to read you before sleeping. He smiled slightly and turned that smirk into a sad look very quickly.

"What's wrong, honey?".

"Nothing, my love. I'm just tired from work, that's all".

"For playing the God of lies, you're a terrible liar" you mocked him. He sat by your side and caressed your cheek with the soft touch of his hand.

"You're the only one who's always been able to read right through my bullshit. That's one of the reasons I love you so much". He said quietly.

"I'd love to know what goes through your mind when the character slips through your words. You play him marvelously, you shouldn't be ashamed to have gotten used to some of his mannerisms", you told him while running your fingers through his hair.

"I'd say I have too many of them".

"Yeah", you chuckled "it's almost like Loki is playing you, instead of you playing Loki".

"Oh, darling. Only if you knew", he said with the deepest and sexiest voice he has ever spoken.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you whispered.

He laughed slightly, and cut the conversation off with a "nothing, I'm just messing with you".

But you knew he wasn't.

Something in his eyes... he couldn't lie to you any longer. Not with you allowing it.

"What is it? I really, really want to know".

You insisted and insisted. He rolled his eyes and said nothing all night.

Next morning he didn't awake by your side. You were waiting for him in the kitchen, with a fresh cup of tea and a teasing smile on your face.

"Good morning, love" he said, hands in your waist while kissing both of your cheeks. "What are you doing up so early?".

"I want to do something crazy".

"Oh no".

"Oh yes".

"What do you want to do?".

"Let's go to Asgard. Let's go to catch a glimpse of the cell Loki is supposedly locked up in. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think it would help you with the character building. You know, since you give such importance to the role and..."

But he didn't let you finish, and closed the conversation with a "no way. Absolutely not".

And there was nothing else to discuss.

"I'm going".

"He's a crazy murderer that wants to slave everybody. There is no way I'm letting you see him".

"I'm going you like it or not", you said, grabbing your keys and going towards the door.

He stood infront of you with the most serious look you've ever seen in his face. "You're not going".

"Just one reason, give me one".

"He's not in his cell, you wouldn't find him there".

"And how do you know that?".

His eyes, that once showed anger and concern, were now fearful and disappointed.

"I can't say".

"This has to do with your 'dark mode', doesn't it? What are you hiding from me, Thomas?".

He sighed. Hugged you tightly as if you were never holding him again after what you'd hear next.

He whispered in your ear "I'm sorry for lying. It's just what I do best".

Tom and the expressions that differentiated him from Loki got bathed in a golden light. His hair became long and dark, his facial hair disappeared, his eyebrows got fixed (exactly how they made his make up for the movies), and his midgardian shirt and trousers transformed into the leather and metal armor that represented Loki so well.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD" you yelled as you hold your body against the wall, trying not to fall. Your legs were shaking.

"Yes".

"YOU'RE--".

"The... fucking God".

"H-how??".

"Long story short, I needed to start over. And I'm a shapeshifter, it's not too hard for me to disguise".

You sat on a chair and he did the same. You looked at him up and down as you steadied yourself. Once you were already taking all the madness in, you were able to speak.

"So, you could've pretended to be ANY midgardian out here".

"I could've".

"And you chose to become an actor that would play you?".

He laughed, with the same laughter Tom had. He's the same man I fell in love with, after all, you thought.

He started saying that he understood if you felt unsafe and lied to with him. That if you wanted to end the relationship his soul would ache eternally, but he would let you go. That he did something unforgivable; he played with your trust.

You got up and cupped your hands around his neck, leaving a small kiss on his lips.

"Shut up".

"Beg you pardon?".

"I love you, I don't care about anything else. To me, now you're Tom with superpowers".

"That's the most stupid yet most lovable thing you've ever told me".

"I'm sure I said stupider things". And you glanced down. "I wonder how much of your God skills you were hiding all this time".

He smiled before lifting you in the air and taking you bride style to the bedroom.

"Oh, baby, you'll see".

#loki #loki headcanon #tom hiddleston #hiddleston #loki x reader #tom Hiddleston x reader #headcanon #mcu #marvel

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calpalsworld · 3 years ago

Note

Not "autistic anon," but also autistic, (being called maybe ableist made me want to put this out there before go to bed) i thought Zane was depicted that way purposefully by the writers. He has stereotypical traits like taking things literally, and has an actual humor switch. The writers have done things with Zane before like have him lose bodily autonomy (during that one Wu's teas short) and did something with his voice be it making him unable to be understood or talking too loud and the forced pirate voice by Jay. (what you're doing isn't too different from that, right?) I thought it was just a little iffy to distort his body and memory bc that could be interpreted as something not that I'm sure what exactly, it's some kind of disability. I dunno. I'm not good with putting this to words. I hope this makes sense.

Sorry I went to bed but now I’m awake 😭

Also I ended up totally spilling all my thoughts here rather than only specifically replying to you please forgive me context: my scary zane concept design, & my ninjago rewrite i refer to a lot

Im a little confused but I think I get what you're saying? You're saying the Ninjago writers absolutely DON'T write Zane well (you listed examples of this) and you don't want me to fall into the same trap?

I had the opposite logic earlier. I thought: If Ninjago writers made Zane have stereotypical autisitic traits while also being a dehumanized robot, I may as well embrace it, say he is autistic blatantly, while also making him do funny/cool non-human robot things, so its clear as possible the two aspects of his character are literal and separate and not a metaphor for each other. But you're right! I do have a choice and I dont have to embrace things! :)

Like there were a couple ways I was gonna reject the original, for example, I never wanted Zane to have a funny switch, and I hated how other characters could fuck with Zane and he didn't even care 😬. I want to change that stuff. So youre right, if I am changing shit like that, it would be counterproductive for ME to GIVE him MORE traits along that theme. 😬😬😬 I should try to feel less obligated to portray Zane like he originally is. I still like the concept of "scary zane" (for reasons i explain below the cut) but I might tone it down a bit like with the claws and weird proportions and shit. I’d def make him look more skeletal and undead. That was my original intention, but i didnt execute it as good as I could have.... idk if anyone could tell thats what he was supposed to be like...my bad! But rn I dont wanna redesign him I wanna draw other stuff like normal alive Zane. Sorry LMAO 😳. Like I said in some earlier asks I think, I think Im gonna focus rn on how I should portray season 1 normal not dead Zane so thank you and feel free to share any other Zane thoughts ^_^ SOME OTHER THOUGHTS:

Also I Wanna Argue Some Stuff But I Understand its a Weak Argument Since All of This Context was Just In My Brain (so don't take this as an argument, just as me rambling): I don't want messed up things to happen to Zane and for it to just be ignored. I think if Zane is going to have fucked up things happen to him, as all characters must, its best for it to happen during a season where he actually addresses his feelings about being a robot (learning to accept that he will always be himself, regardless if hes "human" or the "original" or whatever. (thats how I always interpreted his emotions)). But I wouldn't have the other Ninja be very phased by Zane's looks because the whole point is they already love who he is (seasons 1-3 were about getting to know Zane) and now Zane himself just has to learn the physical, robot part of him is okay. Its about person-hood rather than humanity. Because the season focuses around Zane's soul, and because he lost his original body, I feel like I could mess around with his current, temporary body and have fun and make it scary. Because that body should be irrelevant. I understand it possibly being upsetting for an autistic character to be designed like this, but other people I talked to see it the opposite way. They find it comforting for him to look so different but still be himself and be so loved. SO IM ABSOLUTELY NOT saying its wrong to be bothered or to hate it or to feel any way. Just that I personally think it would be cool for Zane to be portrayed with a little spice lol, so thats why I like scary Zane for season 4.

Another Thing I Wannna Say But Is REALLY Hypocritical: (this isnt directed at anyone I just REALLY want to say this) I know I say "this is Zane but scary, he looks like fnaf" so he's obviously dehumanized, but I always felt like "scary" is more of an objective fact. Its an instinct. But what's "not human" is subjective. I think there is a problem with saying anything different from "average" human is dehumanized because that could extend to real people. Lol I know its bad for me to compare FNAF-ass Zane to real people, but I mean he could be real. People can have exposed teeth, and people can be shaped weird. And when someone first sees a person who looks like that they'll probably think "woah those features are scary" by instinct. And that surprise doesn't make someone ableist obviously. But bring that person’s humanity into question is NOT an instinct, and is fucked to shit. This is kinda a bad point for me to make since its about the fictional FNAF Zane I drew, and I am NOT implying ANYONE was thinking like this. [especially not the original asker anon who I am totally forgetting about at this point OOPS]. But I just thought it was an opinion of mine I couldn't go without mentioning when talking about dehumanization and disabilities.

^^^ I think you (anon) understand what I mean and might’ve said the exact same thing as me if you were writing a long ass response? I think this because you started to bring physical disabilities up and you said it was "a little iffy." ^_^ So we agree, but I don't see Zane's relation to real life disabilities as "a little iffy" I see it more like "complicated"? IF THAT DIFFERENCE EVEN MAKES ANY SENSE?????? I feel like a lot of things about Zane are really just complicated and need the right context, rather than the concepts necessarily being wrong -- NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT! THATS THE WHOLE REASON I DO THIS STUPID REWRITE! XD thats why a lot of my rewrite SO FAR has been the same concepts and plot beats, but different dialogue n specifics and such. I like a lot of concepts in Ninjago but I dont think they were presented correctly.....! :( So I guess all we can do is wait and see if I make Zane offensive or not....???

Also something about the memory part - yeah i agree i was surprised no one thought that was weird to make jokes out of his memory issues..... BUT I am like 100% firm on making his memory take longer to come back because I think its stupid how quick Zane was able to recover from literally dying. Like its just dumb to me. Hate it. (also bc memory & soul mechanics is ummm kinda important in my rewrite.... for reasons). Another memory thing btw, I was going to make his original amnesia come from hitting his head in an attack against the Skulkin when they stole his dads corpse, rather than his dad fucking choosing to make him forget. (its a sweet & iconic scene, but Um, WHY?!!!?!?!?!?) He has to follow data recovery instructions he finds in his dads diary. I think in that context it makes moments of memory loss somewhat different for Zane's character? Instead of loss of autonomy associated with disability, its a literal violent loss of autonomy associated with being traumatized by physical force. Idk how to phrase it exactly but I think that makes some vibes different?

Sorry, I think I got really distracted, and I don't know if I responded well to your points. Because uhhhh I think I agree with your stance actually? If I understand correctly? Fuck Ninjago writers for making the robot lose autonomy (a stereotypical robot theme) while also making him seem clearly autistic (NOT A HAPPY THEME FOR AUTISTIC PEOPLE) and not addressing it. And also auuugh Zane with a weird body is a difficult topic - kinda sussy pretty iffy.

Lol anyway idk if this made any sense and I REALLY rambled on you. but this was nice 👉👈 more Zane criticism pls love you and i love zane. i hope u dont feel mad at me because then it would be weird that im saying that lol. if you do feel mad at me tho you can send another ask (ILL TRY TO JUST LISTEN NOT RAMBLE NEXT TIME) but assuming ur chill rn, love you thnx

Take this page, don’t mind cole’s ass.

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crossdressingdeath · 4 years ago

Note

Well, if we're doing this (JC, Anders, Cullen...), then we're doing this. What's your opinion on Solas? Take the question as you will: his romance with Lavellan, his past, his plans, his—whatever you're interested in talking about.

...When you put it like that it kind of feels like my sole purpose on this site is to disagree with the loudest opinions of every fandom I'm in, huh.

I like Solas, he's great as a character. The sass, the fashion sense, the voice acting, all very good. His personal quest feels real and important (which should be an easy bar to clear but not all of them manage it), his positions make sense for his character... He gets hit hard by Inquisition's "You're not allowed to argue with your companions or encourage them to grow as people except in very specific circumstances and otherwise you can either tell them what they want to hear or insult them in a way that has nothing to do with what your character would actually be having an issue with" nonsense, but that's not really his fault as a character; it's more visible with him in places (at least if you're playing Lavellan), but it's an issue all of the Inquisition cast has at some point. I can't speak to his romance because I... still haven't done it (one day I will romance someone who isn't Bull or Dorian. One day), but as for the rest...

Honestly my biggest issue with Solas isn't actually an issue with him, because the whole "oh yeah the Dalish gods were all totally evil and the Dalish are stupid for believing in them" bullshit is tied so heavily to him that I can't help but conflate them. (God I hate that plot point, I'd actually be fine with Bioware retconning it to at least "only some of them were slavers" at a minimum, also can they at least be less blatant about the whole "Oh only the Christianity allegory isn't confirmed fake, awful or both and that totally doesn't have any real-world meaning", honestly at this point I'm just embarrassed they're being so obvious about it.) Other than that... yeah, I like Solas's past and plans, it makes sense from a story and character perspective and makes for a nice setup for the next game. The whole survivor's guilt thing, his desire to bring back the past, the fact that the story hasn't immediately condemned you and in fact gives you the option to say you're going to save him from himself (Bioware do not turn this into "he's evil and crazy shut up", if you do that again I swear-)... It's good! And honestly after the "Everything's morally grey if you want it to be, even a conflict between abusers, rapists and murderers and people who don't want to be abused, raped and murdered, here have this really obvious evil darkspawn slaver guy to take your mind off of the complete bullshit we're calling moral complexity while we tell you which parts of the grey morality you're supposed to side with" thing Inquisition had going for it it's refreshing to have actual grey morality again.

Also I'm still mad that Lavellan can't be like "You. You're my dad now" at any point, why don't you love me Solas, why do you love Cole and not me. But anyway, ignore my brief tangent about Bioware's shitty, shitty choices... Yeah, Solas is a good character, it's nice to have a character who has genuinely grey morals, his goal makes sense, I'm glad they've set up the possibility of an ending for him that involves talking him down or helping him find a less dangerous solution instead of just killing him, and my main issues with him are issues that he shares with the entire cast because the writing in Inquisition... wasn't great. I'm... cautiously optimistic about his role in DA4, although also very worried because he does share some elements of his character with Anders and we all know how that ended. Also I'm realizing it's been way too long since I played Inquisition, because I'm sure I used to have more detailed opinions on Solas.

#dragon age inquisition #solas

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sophi-s · 4 years ago

Text

Cost of Kindness

Chapter II: Fear me not

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6373

Characters: Raphael, Original Character (OC)

Warnings: Blood and injury, suffocating, violence, Raphael is sad :(

Summary:

Nicola is quick to find trust in herself and quick to lose it. She doesn't realise however, that the man she fears sees something in her others cannot. And this something is what made him save her life again.

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Through the few short weeks, the apocalypse has taught the dying Humanity many different things. Resourcefulness, cunning, true strength of unity… and among other things, the cruel life had taught them, was bravery in its purest form. Bravery that isn't simply an absence of fear but the power to overcome it. Stay cool-headed even in the most extreme scenarios, allowing them to face down even the most horrifying demons and either get away mostly unscathed or sometimes even beat them if they were lucky. Without those traits, survival was nigh impossible these days.

This last very important lesson however, Nicola seemed to have quite spectacularly failed to learn. Even as lucky as she was - considering that she lived thus far - she never was the bravest creature in this God-forsaken world. Smart? Sometimes. Ingenious? Sure. But brave? Not really, no. Especially now, as she was staring up at the angel who she decided to trust not even a minute before and who has just ruthlessly murdered a demon with little to no remorse in a very, very sickening way. Her muscles refused to move as though Raphael had already used the spell of paralysis against her as she watched the corners of his mouth, previously quirked upwards in a small smile, slowly descend. His expression in the matter of seconds morphed into confusion when a quiet sob escaped her. This horrifying, agonized screeching was still ringing in Nicola's ears, the demon kept writhing before her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder.. what did it feel like? To have one's life drained like that. Because judging by the sounds the Goreclaw produced, it must've been truly torturous.

"Human…?"

The soft voice of Raphael snapped her out of this strange haze and the sight of his hand extended towards her once again made her heart jump and begin to race. Her mind was telling her that if Raphael wanted to harm her, he would've done it already. Besides, moments before the demon came, he healed the cut on her forehead demanding nothing in return. Only because he could and - for some reason - wanted. But the chilling claws of panic gripping her throat and the fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, screaming inside her head made the voice of reason merely an inaudible whisper drowning in the sea of primal fear of the possible approaching danger. And right now, her body definitely settled on "flight".

"No! "

She yelped and tried to get away but her heels met the corpse behind her and it caused her to trip over the husk of the once frightening demon. With an expression of shock, Raphael retracted his hand as her rear painfully met the tough and damp floor. There was utter horror gleaming in her emerald green eyes, matched by lack of comprehension in his.

"Why are you frightened?"

And he has the audacity to ask why. Nicola thought bitterly as she started to scramble away. At the first glance, Raphael seemed so kind, he was such a gentle soul. Even his face, despite the collapsed cheeks, has the most trustworthy look to it Nicola had ever seen. This kind is the worst. Makes you trust them, lower your guard.. It seems she'd conveniently forgotten about one fact she noticed moments after she found Raphael. He's completely, absolutely and utterly insane. Unpredictable. At first he couldn't even remember his own name or how he got here. Who can guarantee her that he won't have an abrupt change of heart and lash out at her? She wasn't going to take chances. Leaping up to her feet, Nicola blindly runs off into the dark pathway she initially emerged from, her shotgun left forgotten on the floor just as she heard an almost frantic-sounding call echoing from the haphazard hide-out alongside the sound of rustling feathers and cloth.

" NICOLAAA! "

To her, this shout may have as well been a roar of a Fallen that not so long ago nearly succeeded in ending her life. A golden hue on the walls glistening with wetness trembled and started to move. No one had to say that out loud for her to realise that the angel was actually chasing after her. And to think that merely seconds ago Raphael was struggling with standing up properly… The pain of her overworked legs was gone, forgotten. They carried Nicola like a completely different entity, moving on their own, tireless and strong with only one purpose. Get away. Survive. Escape.

How Nicola managed to get to the point where she started her sightseeing tour of the sewers without any source of light and without tripping over all those bodies she found before was a mystery even to her. Even the slickness of the ladder didn't phase her as she pushed the lid off and quite literally pounced out of the hole in the sidewalk like a puma. She only hoped she'd managed to lose her pursuit in the winding corridors. Placing the lid back where it belonged, Nicola immediately booked it for the nearest alley just to be sure.

Once she was more or less hidden, she leaned against a crumbling wall, breathed out silently and covered her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobs. She thought that for once she found something that wasn't about to end her where she stood but it seems that the Universe has taken it as a matter of some twisted honor to slaughter every single member of the human race. This is just unfair. Sure, there was a lot of people who deserved to be smited into oblivion by the God himself for what they'd done but if the apocalypse was supposed to be some kind of punishment, then for fuck's sake why does the entire race has to suffer for it?! How is this even fair ?!

It's not. That's how.

Nicola looked up at the night sky glittering with numerous stars, winking at her like thousands of watching eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks, leaving clean trails in the dust and grime. Eventually, her heartbeat started slowing down, her breath evening out and the adrenaline gradually receding from her system. Now she had a moment to clear her head and think. She had no doubts she can be forgiven for running away. Every person in their right mind would do the same in her situation. Nicola refused to die like this.. But on the other hand… This panic in Raphael's voice, the almost childishly innocent smile as he closed the cut on her skin and the gentleness to his every move as he tried to heal a defenseless kitten… God, this is so… so… Nicola couldn't even find the right word. Despite what the angel did to that Goreclaw, no one said he meant to hurt her too. He may be crazy but that doesn't mean he's a psychotic murderer. This was a demon and angels rightfully hate demons! In his mind there was most likely nothing wrong with that. Besides, she gave Raphael no reason to think of her as a target. All of the sudden, Nicola felt unbelievably foolish for running off like that. Raphael saved her life after all. And she acted nothing if not horribly ungrateful. Should I go back? She'll have to anyway. In a hurry, she left her weapon back down there and Haven was short on those… Dang it…

She sighed. It honestly made her feel like a moron. Damned survival instincts… Sure, they were keeping her alive all the time but sometimes they were just so incredibly annoying. Why would they make her run away from someone who protected her even though he had no reason to do so and nothing to gain from it? From the first angel who seemed to care what fate befalls her? Goodness me, this is so stupid… Nicola shook her head and was about to walk back to the entrance to the sewer when she noticed something in an adjacent alley. Seeing a pair of hungry yellow lights slowly moving closer to her, just above the ground made her heart drop. Her sight has long got used to darkness and so it took her only a fraction of a second to notice curved, black horns above them, long and spindly arms on either side of a slender body ending in a long, scaly lube. A snake-like tail…

With a pounding heart, Raphael quickly moved through the sewer that has long ago turned into his hide-out. Tracking down the strange little human who unexpectedly visited him in his "lair" was harder than it seemed. She was way faster than he would have given her credit for. By all means, in her short legs she shouldn't be that quick. Fear does strange things to people.. But why was she afraid? This short meeting was inarguably the most wonderful thing that happened to him ever since he left the White City. He couldn't quite remember how long ago it was but definitely too long for his taste. All he recalled was the horrible, sharp bite every time he repeated the ritual to finish his greatest creation, followed by a short-lived feeling of elation soon to be replaced by deathly cold within the centre of his being. Each time getting worse and worse until he couldn't stand it anymore. Quickly descending into madness caused by never-ending pain and the chill of his damaged soul, the invisible wound in his chest as cold as a forgotten grave, he knew he can't keep doing this. And so, after having lost his purpose, there was no reason for him to stay anymore. He refused to disappoint his brethren.

You've fulfilled your task. They don't need you anymore.

Raphael halted for a moment, blinking to try and chase away the taunting whisper in the back of his head. It is not true.

"You're wrong. They do. More than ever…"

In the premature Endwar, Heaven's Legions probably wished he was with them. But that doesn't change a thing. He's not going back. Not after he failed to save Ithuriel as an unexplainable surge of panic paralyzed both his hands and his magic. It still sometimes haunts his damaged memories… The young warrior slowly languished from a poisoned wound, grew weaker and weaker with every moment and the archangel couldn't move, couldn't even speak to call for help. Just.. stood there and watched unable to act. Until… A painful twinge through his chest made him wince. No. He can never allow something like this to happen again. He cannot fail them.. He refused to let anyone down like that. Ever.

Frankly speaking, Raphael started to wonder when he'd taken to talking to himself. Solitude clearly wasn't serving him… It's been so long since he had anyone to speak to and even longer since his mind felt this clear. This woman, Nicola, told him she is a human. Considering what has happened to the Third Kingdom, Raphael found it hard to believe. But the spark of life in her soul… it really did feel human. She wasn't a fiend from the Black Depths, nor was she of his own kin. Earth was where she belonged. But there was something in her… something so oddly familiar.. soothing. A flame like those burning in hearts of Heaven's people, just somehow fainter. Only a small fraction of it. Maybe her soul belonged to an angel before it was purged by the Well? Who knows?

But that aside, she was still human. And so, it might as well make her the last survivor of her race and the first creature to show him a lick of sympathy ever since he chose the path of a hermit. The Balance was in danger and this human was imperative for its preservation. For the first time in decades, Raphael felt needed. He had a purpose again. No one was forcing him to do this but the words in a caring tone leaving Nicola's mouth and clear concern for his well being even though she barely knew him for a couple of minutes were something he has been so… so dreadfully missing. As confused as he was by her attitude, he couldn't deny that it was… nice. How long has it been since someone expressed clear worry for him? Too long… The archangel wished this odd mortal near even if for just a short moment because strangely enough, her kindness directed specifically to him somehow eased the never-ending suffering and helped him focus his thoughts that kept running rampant without control whenever he couldn't busy himself with something other than the hole in his chest. And now they were focused on one goal. Find the human.

Raphael waved his bandaged hand through the air before him to invoke a spell and frowned when he detected the familiar presence he was searching for somewhere over his head. She must've left for the city above him. Right where she's out in the open for demons to pick out. Why did she run?

She knows what you are. And she is just a human. Of course she would run like a coward.

No. Raphael brushed this poisonous voice off. Believing in a single word it says will mean his failure. If he does, he will be doomed. Forever lost in the depths of insanity. No matter.. Channeling his magic, Raphael warped and reappeared amidst the sorrowful ruins of the city once inhabited by hundreds of humans. A wave of fresh air hit him in the face and for a moment made his head feel like it was spinning. His eyes opened wide when he took a huge gulp of oxygen. He never realised how sweet it can taste. After such a long time in the damp darkness… The stars peered down at him from the moonless sky, shining like shattered diamonds woven into black velvet. Enchanting and stunningly beautiful. If it wasn't so dangerous out here, Raphael would've surely been more eager to leave the dark pit he was stuck in to marvel at the Earth's still present beauty but such as it was… The moment he let his eyes wander across the vast expanse of the Earthen sky, his feathers bristled at the sound of a shrill cry of fear that tore the silence asunder. A cry of a female voice. Familiar voice. It could only mean one thing. His heart skipped.

Rushing towards the source of the scream, Raphael soon discovered the reason right behind a corner. The same human that indulged him in a much needed interaction, that calmed his restless spirit, was now struggling against the tightening coils of a serpentine body of a demon sorcerer which apparently has picked her as its midnight snack. Already feeling a mist of rage fall over his mind, Raphael shook his head to shrug it off for a little longer. Keeping his head as cool as he could, he performed a gesture with his hands as a string of words in his mother tongue slipped past his lips and his vision zeroed on the Shadowcaster.

Nicola was absolutely sure these were her final moments on this horrible, horrible world when the Shadowcaster jumped at her from a nook and wrapped its tail around her to try and strangle the life out of her like a gigantic, twisted constrictor snake, and watch her perish in suffering. What an awful way to die. Seeing the wicked grin of this malformed face as the last thing before her consciousness leaves her for good. Nicola hoped that if she had to die, then at least she would be sent off by a friendly face… But it seems that God denied her even this last, small comfort.. She fought ferociously against the crushing pressure that was successfully preventing her from catching another breath but to no avail. Her lungs felt as though they had been set on fire and her desperate wriggling only made the demon laugh excitedly as it whispered something she couldn't understand. She didn't have to though. Something told her it was nothing nice.. Dark spots started to gather in the corners of her vision and slowly encase her mind in darkness and she has already come to terms with the fact that this time she isn't getting out of this one alive when… the hold the Shadowcaster had on her loosened.

Taking a wheezing breath, Nicola fell over, still trapped in the coils of the scaly body. What? Once her vision cleared out a little, she saw her attacker lying stiff like a statue with its nasty eyes, previously burning with malice, now opened wide in shock and a web of golden lights crawling across its skin spoke for itself. Before any coherent thought could form in her head she was suddenly yanked free from the demon's grasp by an invisible force. A small cry escaped her when she felt a sharp sting on her thigh where the monster held her with its claws and soon she was gently deposited on the ground. Looking up into a pair of big, white eyes blinking down at her upside down from underneath a green, ragged hood.

"Raph-... phael…?"

She gasped to let her crushed lungs expand properly, though she needed no answer. It was him. He did follow her. And he saved her bacon. Again. Nicola truly wanted to laugh. If there were any doubts still left in her mind that Raphael is a friend before, they disappeared at this very moment. You bloody idiot, you ran from a dude who was trying to protect you and almost got yourself killed in the process. Nicola scolded herself inwardly as she struggled to breathe properly. No running again. Although she was most glad to see Raphael, she immediately noticed something was wrong. He was looking at her but without this soft smile. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression of worry and… guilt? Why the…? And that's when she noticed that his eyes were flicking between her face and the spot on her leg which was quickly starting to grow warm and wet. Craning her neck to see, Nicola nearly choked once she caught the sight of three deep gashes torn into her flesh. And they were spurting about a lot of blood… Like.. a lot.

"You're bleeding… Hurt…"

His hesitant words only confirmed that it wasn't a hallucination caused by oxygen deprivation. Nicola bit her lip and tried to find that healing shard in her pocket but between being nearly choked to death, her empty stomach, sharp pain and seeing that amount of blood leaving her injured appendage she felt too dizzy to keep her head up and laid back down on the ground with a miserable mewl.

"In the eyes of our blessed Father, your days are numbered, foul beast.."

She heard Raphael hiss through his teeth once he looked up towards the place where the Shadowcaster was surely still face planting under the influence of the spell and his troubled frown turned into a scowl. There was this weird sound once more. Oh my God, he's doing it again… Nicola gulped, already preparing for the round two. Even though she was certain now that she had nothing to fear from him, it still doesn't mean she liked what she saw back then when the Goreclaw jumped her. She was already hearing the screeches of the demon even before they could come to be but this time no such thing happened. Something was different. The light that coalesced around Raphael's hand was not green but golden as the magic vibrated through the air once again. Everything lasted but a second. And instead of a series of pained shrieks, Nicola heard a single, sickening crunch. And then silence. Nothing more. Whatever happened, it was quick and mostly quiet. Probably because they were outside and more demons undoubtedly prowled nearby, and Raphael was definitely smart enough to realise that. Thank goodness… Nicola breathed before she saw the shimmering stars swimming before her eyes quickly starting to disappear along with her hearing. Soon, she slipped her eyelids closed in spite of the pain in her leg and found herself sliding into the dark. Hold on. Just a little longer.. Just… a little…

… longer…

If anything could be said about Shadowcasters, was that their skeletons, as flexible as they are, characterize with astonishing brittleness. One flick of Raphael's wrist was more than enough to snap its neck and give it a far quicker and more merciful death than it deserved. He couldn't allow himself for another drain as it would bring half of the Horde bearing down on both him and the wounded human at his feet. Besides, he didn't feel in need of its energy. The human…

Looking down at her, Raphael felt his heart cease for a second. She was lying there on her back, pale and motionless, her intricate green eyes shut. Alive, the blaze in her soul flickering, but clearly unconscious. Blood was still oozing from the wound he himself had made because of the spontaneous decision to wrench her free from the fiend's hold. He wasn't careful enough and failed to notice that the demon dug its talons into her skin. The archangel had seen a fair share of pain. He used to be the head healer back in the White City after all. The number of warriors he'd pulled out of the cold clutches of death was impossible to count. But somehow this was different. The poor woman was defenseless, weak and delicate. She couldn't even fight the demon that tackled her.

Azrael was right. Humans are very, very fragile.. Compared to other races, they were frighteningly easy to crush. Anything could kill them. From eating something wrong, through illnesses, to even falling into the water. Truth be told, Nicola was the first human Raphael had met in person and he didn't want her to be his last. Just stay calm. Don't panic… Not now… Kneeling down next to her, so small in comparison to him, Raphael gingerly peeled the torn trouser leg off the wound and placed his quivering hand over it, concealing the whole thing with his palm. His magic began to flow into the human once again to seal the torn flesh but there was very little time he had.

He barely managed to lessen the bleeding when a sound of a distant roar and a crash of a car being tossed aside, reached his ears. His head snapped up as his eyes darted around, searching for the owner of this cry. He would recognise it even in his sleep, even if the last scraps of his sanity left him. A Trauma was somewhere nearby. No doubt heading in this direction, attracted by the commotion and possibly the smell of blood as well. And a Trauma he couldn't afford to fight right now. Those things are hearty enough to break through his magic and get to him before he is able to put them down. Scooping up Nicola into his arms, Raphael wrapped his dusted wings around both her and himself and with a single arcane word they both vanished, leaving only a trace of quickly dissipating golden glow in their wake.

How long had she been out, Nicola couldn't tell. All she knew that she felt as though someone ran into her with a car. Her breaths were shallow and her heart was beating way too fast for comfort. Groaning quietly, she laid her arm over her face before opening her eyes. To see a dark, damp ceiling gently illuminated by a warm light. Where the Hell-...? The last second before the blackout came back to her like a punch to the gut. The Shadowcaster. Raphael.. With a startled gasp, she shot up, looking about, promptly regretting her decision when the world started to spin again. And to her utter astonishment, she was once again in the small section of the sewers where she met Raphael, settled on some ratty blankets and covered with another one that fell from her chest the moment she stirred.

"Keep still.."

She heard and nearly jumped when she felt a hand fall onto her shoulder and gently coax her into lying down again. And honestly, with how nauseous and weak she felt, Nicola wasn't about to resist and let herself be lowered to the ground. Unsurprisingly now, she saw the familiar scrawny angel sitting cross-legged next to her and staring intensely at her with those big, disturbingly hollow eyes. He brought her back into his hidey-hole? It looks like it.. Why exactly however, Nicola couldn't tell. And there wasn't much she could read from those eyes. A couple of seconds passed. A minute. Two. Five. And he still kept staring. The awkward silence continued until Nicola decided to break it by clearing her throat.

"Uh… what's up, buddy?"

If she wasn't feeling like shit, Nicola would've burst out laughing when she saw Raphael look up at the ceiling confused but she really didn't have strength to explain that this was just an expression. Chucking to herself quietly, she rubbed her eyes with pads of her fingers to clear her blurry sight a little when again her stomach loudly demanded nutrition. And the poor angel who was still looking at the ceiling quite literally jumped away and glared at her abdomen distrustfully when it "growled at him". Seems like angels know as little about humans as humans about them…

"What… was that.?"

Carefully pulling herself up to a sitting position, miserably failing to stop a fit of giggles - even though it pulled her sore muscles over her ribs - Nicola waved her hand dismissively. Any fear she once felt in the presence of Raphael was gone now. Not only did he rescue her twice but the way he was getting confused or spooked by literally anything Nicola did - purposefully or not - was just somewhat endearing.

"I'm just hungry.. I haven't eaten for a whole day.."

"Oh… hungry… hmmmm… Yes.."

Raphael murmured, seemingly a little embarrassed by the whole situation and twisted his body around to reach for something. Furrowing her eyebrows, Nicola tried to shift to see what exactly he was doing back there but she didn't see a lot. At least not until he turned to face her again and very slowly - like he was afraid he would frighten her again - extended his hand to her. And in his palm sat a paper bag where undoubtedly Nicola's sandwich was. Hesitantly, she reached for the packet that rustled encouragingly and a faint, pleasant smell of cheese, ham and pickled cucumbers emerged from within. A nice change from the stench around. It wasn't much but made her mouth water nonetheless.

"Thanks.. though I'd be glad if you didn't go through my things. Okay?"

"Okay…"

He replied with a nod and sat down again, watching Nicola devour - not eat - devour half of her sandwich in a few bites. Goodness, she was so hungry she could eat a horse.. However, halfway through something beside Raphael's thigh caught her attention. There, next to his knee sat a small cat. The same back and white kitten the angel was taking care of before. Looking at her with those blasted big, green eyes with pupils expanded almost to the point where its irises weren't visible and hungrily licking the sides of its mouth. At first she tried to ignore it. But the cursed look cats, especially the little ones, can give! The longer it stared at her, the more sure she was that she doesn't have the appetite anymore.. Goddamnit. Pulling a slice of ham out of her sandwich - the only part that would be of interest to it - Nicola clicked her tongue and offered the food to the kitten.

"Here, little buddy.. Come here."

I'm too soft for my own good. One day, some cat will be the death of her… Carefully and slowly, the kitten approached her, sniffing the piece of meat before snatching it out of her hand and retreating into the safe place behind Raphael to consume the gift. Cats can smell good people from a mile. Looks like she was wrong to ever doubt Raphael had anything but good intentions. Smiling slightly, the angel reached out to the cat and brushed his knuckles against the black fur around a new scar on its back. The loud and comforting purr interrupted only by an occasional swallow rung out and made even Nicola smile as she finished her own food. Even with how meager her snack was, hopefully it was going to last her at least until she finds her way back to Haven. One day of poor eating wasn't going to kill her after all.

When she was done, she peeled back the blanket to examine her injured leg. Nicola pulled a face at the three - even if mostly closed - claw marks on her thigh and the bloodied trouser leg. It didn't look that bad anymore but she could imagine that it would definitely slow her down. The slightest move was causing her mild discomfort. Running and walking anywhere is definitely off the table for now. Still, Nicola much preferred the dull ache that was now in place of excruciating throbbing.

There was no doubt in her mind that this is all once again thanks to the kind, even if a bit unhinged, angel who was now sitting beside her with a quietly purring kitten nested on his lap as he kept stroking its head and back and murmuring something to himself in a strange, melodic language Nicola couldn't understand but found beautiful and enchanting nonetheless. She watched Raphael for a few moments, listening to his deep, soothing voice that made her feel a bit sleepy. After the apocalypse Nicola rarely slept well because of nightmares. And it showed. But before she inevitably dozed off, she felt she had to say something.

"So uh…"

She started, successfully getting his attention, judging by how his eyes shifted to look at her.

"Um… Thanks. For… for everything I guess.."

For a whole minute Raphael didn't answer, simply watched her with his head tilted to the right, a silent question in his eyes. Nicola scratched the back of her neck awkwardly and decided to clarify.

"You know.. for saving my butt two times now, treating me.. And sorry I ran away. I was scared, you got pretty spooky with that Goreclaw back then…"

"Oh…"

He replied with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me then… I did not mean to frighten you…"

"Oh, no no no, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay! I'm not scared anymore.."

Nicola assured him quickly. Making him feel bad for it wasn't her intention at all.

"Seriously though. Thank you.."

She repeated with a grimace when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position but the ache in her leg made it significantly more difficult. With an empathetic look to his face, Raphael steadied her by returning his hand to her shoulder and moving the other - already radiant with his Heavenly magic - to her wound. The prickly sensation came back, bringing relief in pain as he sighed tiredly.

"This is.. my duty…"

As surprising as it was, Nicola couldn't deny that Raphael seemed to have changed in some way since she found him absolutely deranged. Now he seemed a little more… collected. Focused. Calmer. But simultaneously even sadder and very jumpy. Still, he remained as mysterious as he did before. But maybe if he retains this composure, Nicola could pry something from him about his background. Why is he here alone? What happened to him? How did he get here? There were way too many questions to ask at once but she had to start with something.

"Your duty? You're some sort of a… uh, what shoudma' call it? Doctor, medic, something like that?"

Despite the question being seemingly innocent and harmless, Raphael reacted by turning his eyes down to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers a couple times with a barely noticeable wince twisting his lips. His answer was so quiet that Nicola barely caught it.

"... was… I left.."

"Huh? Wh- why?"

At that, Raphael looked up at her, again with this tortured gleam in his eyes that made her heart squeeze painfully and shyly pointed at Nicola's side.

"It hurts.."

He chimed as she stared at her own hip in confusion. Again, the angel was making no sense. Her side didn't hurt for one, and two, it can't have been the reason why he left… whatever he left to abandon his previous life. A little startled that maybe he knew something she didn't, Nicola probed the place he pointed out but all she could feel was the healing shard in her… in her pocket… All of the sudden she recalled what Raphael told her before.

Hesitantly, she dug the glowing crystal out of her vest and lifted it for Raphael to see better and asked a wordless question which he answered almost immediately.

"The shards… they hurt me.."

This was probably the lowest Nicola's eyebrows have ever descended, making the look of confusion on her face even more blatant. I thought they were supposed to be healing shards? Why would something made to heal one person hurt another?

"How?"

With an expression of anguish, Raphael placed his hand over his chest and took a small gasp of air as if to make his point.

"I created them.. and some of them hurt…"

The revelation made Nicola's jaw fall slack. She'd been suspecting this before when Raphael referred to the crystal as "his" shard but hearing the confirmation almost had her gag. How many times a healing shard has saved either her or someone else from the Tree, she couldn't count on both of her hands. After Ulthane snatched her from the Fallen's talons it took the large one to heal her and make sure she survives afterwards and still it shattered after it served its purpose. At this very moment, no one could ever convince her that the sad, mad angel before her is evil in any way. With a huff of disbelief she shook her head, shifting her gaze between Raphael and the shard.

"Wait, hold up, you made those?! Oh.. my God, I could kiss you, my dude."

A very undignified snort almost escaped Nicola when she saw the face Raphael made. Something between astonishment, horror and curiosity. She remained oblivious to how improper it sounded in his ears. He cocked his head again. Goddamnit. Every time he does that, Nicola just… can't. It constantly reminds her of a puppy looking at some bizarre wonder of nature.

"But.. why would you want to do this..?"

"It's an expression. In other words, I wanted to say I can't thank you enough. How did someone like you ever end up in… like- like this?"

Nicola said "like this" in the last moment before she could say "in such a shitty situation" because she realised just in time how inappropriately awful this sounds, considering they're in the damned sewers. I'll have to learn to stop accidentally making jokes.. For some reason Jones absolutely adored her for it, unlike most of her friends who kept either groaning or facepalming every time and begging her to stop before they kicked a bucket from the sheer badness of her jests. The kitten in Raphael's lap meowed in annoyance when it lost the touch of the angel, coaxing him to keep smoothing out its fur still stained with dried blood. He did, and Nicola didn't miss that he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Long story.. very long.."

"That's alright, we have time!"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her curiosity was just too strong. Besides, Nicola wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with how her leg was fairing (just thinking about how worried Ulthane and the rest have to be made her a little sick) and she honestly doubted Raphael is going anywhere either. But the way it came out made her sound like she was prying to get to something the angel clearly wished to keep to himself. Whether because it was something to be ashamed of or something very unpleasant to speak of. In honesty, Nicola was sure he would scowl at her for this but he simply looked away with a grim look on his face. And it was even worse because it made her feel awful.

"Oh… sorry, if you don't wanna talk about it then it's alright! You don't have to tell me."

"Another time.. rest now."

He hummed and extended one finger towards Nicola's forehead. Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he lightly poked her right between her eyebrows and all of the sudden she felt unbelievably drowsy. She blinked a couple of times but everything was starting to double before her eyes which were closing all by themselves. With a wide yawn Nicola soon fell into the embrace of magical slumber Raphael called upon her.

He caught her before she could fall down and lowered her onto the blankets to let her sleep in peace. The poor human needed her rest to make up for the amount of blood she lost merely an hour before. Sitting back, Raphael settled for keeping a silent vigil over her until magic wore off. What am I going to do with you? He wondered. For some reason he felt so inexplicably drawn to her and couldn't help it. Something about her was just easing in the pain and warming up the empty void in his tormented soul, even if only a little. The small animal he rescued before rubbed its fuzzy head against his hand and started to knead the fabric of his trousers with its laughably tiny claws that compared to demons' talons were nothing. Still, it stung a tiny little bit. Despite this, Raphael let it curl up in his lap again and fall asleep as well while he watched the human woman and the strange spark dancing within her like a candlelight.

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Chapter II is done! Getting angsty. And say hi to Raphael's kitty. Isn't it cute? :3

Also, here's part 1 if you haven't seen it yet.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #fan art #my art #my fic #fan fiction #raphael #darksiders raphael #darksiders oc #nicola #kitten <3 #Cost of Kindness #CoK #I'm still thinking of a name #for the cat I mean

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