#remnants pod thoughts

[magnus-brain-rot]

Remnants ep 8 thoughts. Spoilers free first, then spoilers below the cut.

I’m loving the dynamic between Apprentice and Sir. It’s just so interesting. This week’s remnant hurt my heart 💜 but in a bittersweet kinda way.

I think Apprentice is still affected by what they have witnessed even though they don’t remember. They were more irritated this episode and I’m keen to see more. I also love how concerned Sir seems. “How’s your head” “you asked me that yesterday” I love them.

It was really cool to hear a remnant from the perspective of someone who is nonverbal. The frustration of people never explaining things was palpable. And then their heroic sacrifice hit hard. (Getting teary just honking about it).

Overall, great episode.

I think I’ll start doing these reactions after each episode because the fandom is pretty small rn. I want to get as much out there for this show as I can.

[magnus-brain-rot]

It was not terrible at all. In fact, it was really good. It seems like Apprentice had sorted the box before, given their intense reaction. On the one hand, I want to believe that Amelia did live happily, but on the other I want to know why Apprentice had such strong denial. What terrible thing happened to her for Apprentice to stop processing the remnant?

You don’t have to answer any questions, I just wanted to share my thoughts cause I enjoyed the episode.

i am having a Normal One and freaking out that episode 7 was in fact terrible, but i do not have time to go back and do anything about it

[aslongasitistold]

JUST LISTENED TO THE LATEST REMNANTS EPISODE AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAA AAAAAAA AAAAA the multiple gasps I gusped

[the-voldsoy]

My current thoughts about Remnants (pod), as of ep10

(a disjointed list of theories, thoughts and opinions that have been bouncing around in my head and need to put down somewhere. A lot of this will likely be disproven when e11 comes out.)

(under the cut because there's a lot)

First of all, Sir. I don't think he knows what he's supposed to be doing, really, either. Or rather, he knows the what but not the why. He might be afraid, and that might be for a lot of reasons. It might be for what they're doing together, it might be for A. It might be something else entirely.

I also have half a theory working right now that Sir was either made with the First And Last Place[which I will be calling TFALP from now] (has always been there, doesn't remember anything from before or why), or was a previous Apprentice. In this case, he could be lying to the Apprentice so that he doesn't try to replace Sir in turn.

Sir is not human, we know that. He might have been, once, but he's not anymore. He seems to have some sort of magic(?) that can make A forget things, and possibly has wings (flapping noise in e6). He also may-or-may-not be something of a biblical angel, in the sense that his true form cannot be comprehended by A without his mind exploding.

The Apprentice. He is there to give (unbiased?) judgement about something he doesn't understand. That is his purpose. His memory is wiped every time he gets too close to understanding what TFALP actually is, although it is unclear whether it is because Sir has an ulterior motive or just because A's mind can't handle it all. I'm leaning more towards the "understanding TFALP causes eldritch madness" idea though, it makes more sense with the evidence we have.

It is possible that neither Sir nor A are actual people, but rather constructs made by a larger force, or simply just concepts given bodies

The code of capitalised letters from the episode captions so far is: HE IA M OR EOR LESS MST HAS ILTOT [spaces separate episodes]. The only clue we have been given is a picture of 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner from Eira. I think this means that it will be able to decode/be separated into words in multiple ways, rather than the words themselves having double meanings, but I have no confirmation for this.

However, I also think it's multiple different codes(?), being separated by every time A is "reset". (look, just hear me out).

The "HEIAMOREORLESS" part came ep1-6, and the "new" A is shown in e7. If we take this as a separation point in the code, then this part reads "He I AMore Or Less" (Am, more). This would make sense in the context of the show itself and other clues we've been given.

But the next part (ep7-10) can't be put into any obvious words (yet). "MSTHASILTOT". This needs to be decoded differently, possibly with an actual cipher.

I don't know, we don't have the whole code yet so it shouldn't make any sense yet so I'm probably completely wrong but you see my point I hope?

So far the morse code reads: Apprentice / reshelve or discard / the question / is not what / it may / first / / appear to / be if indeed / it appears / to be /

I reckon the next parts will say "anything at all". Not a huge theory or anything, I just wanted to guess. However, this does tell us that there is more about "Reshelve or discard" than is immediately obvious. I have so many thoughts about that though, it needs its own post.

The TL;DR of what I think right now is that yes, it is reincarnation, but it's not clear which option makes the person in the Remnant reincarnated -- I think it's the discard option, because reshelve implies that the ones on the shelf can always be moved around but the discarded ones are gone (living a life?).

I am not confident in that though

But if that is the case, then which is worse?

I haven't thought about it very much yet, but all of these Remnants are going to be connected in some way, I just haven't figured out why. It could just be that the show is more fun (on a meta level) when you have to break out the red string, but the fact that Sir seemed to have some sort of investment with e6 makes me think it's more than that.

Or, rather, what was so important about e6? Why did he care so much that A read it? Did it reveal too much too soon, or did Sir have some sort of emotional investment or involvement with it?

If Sir has an involvement with some of the Remnants implies...I don't know what it implies to be honest. That he was a person once? That he does, in fact, feel emotions? That he has read the Remnants? We already know he seen all the Remnants, he's told us that outright, and he says he doesn't remember "the way that you [A] do" (e10). Is Sir God?

That sounds like a joke but I am making faint connections in my mind ok I'll explain that when they're clear enough to see

I think it would be kind of cute if Sir just sort of...went to a jumble sale and bought a bunch of trinkets, and that's why they're all related

Someone in the Discord said those dust-sprite-things might be discarded Remnants also. That doesn't help my theory at all I just wanted to mention it because those Dust Sprites and the letters from e6 and TFALP itself all mean something but I don't know what

When I was reading through the e6 transcript, I forgot that A says he thinks there's something else in there with them. Not sure if he meant the Dust, or TFALP itself, or the Remnants, or something else entirely, but it does intrigue me.

If it is something else, it could be an antagonist of a sort. There seems to be something working against Sir, creating the "paper trails" and showing A e6, which Sir was not happy about. But why was Sir not aware of it happening? He acts as though he should have seen it?? Could it have been left there by A previously, as a clue so that he could try and remember and find answers again?

Why does Sir care so much about A? He apparently has to regularly erase his memories, would it not be easier to get a different random person each time? The fact that it's always the same person makes me think that A was created for specifically this purpose, but he also seems more...human? than Sir, understanding sarcasm and jokes and empathy and that sort of thing. Is A supposed to be a representation of all of humanity? So that he can be a fair judge? Sir does say that A always has the job (e7)

And Sir says that "Things will not change, not until I see fit" in that episode. This implies that he has some level of control over TFALP and the Remnants and how it all works. So the question is, why? Why can he control it, why is it how it is?

Or maybe Sir cares about him because of familiarity, he's gotten used to and fond of A being around, he doesn't want to have to replace him. But that then raises the question of why he kept him around to start, before he got used to him, and it circles back round. Maybe they were both human, once, and they knew each other, and now only Sir remembers for whatever reason.

[radioisntdead]

Partner in crime

Alastor x gn! reader

Warnings: OOC, death, inaccurate portrayal of getting shot

Song used

You and Alastor had known each other for years, you were close childhood friends at least you thought you were,

You remember your mothers calling the two of you a couple of peas in a pod, or partners in crime,

It was funny, who would've thought the two of you would actually become partners in crime.

Maybe if you didn't have an unhealthy codependency on Alastor you wouldn't had ended up like you did.

When you're gone I feel alone again

You scrubbed away at the floor, cleaning away any remnant of the blood that was spilled that evening, Alastor had gone to bury the remains of the poor man he had slaughtered.

The voices cannot hold my hand

You would lure them in, you were good at lulling others into a false sense of security,

They keep me company at very best

and he'd kill them when they least expected it, sometimes you felt guilty but Alastor would be quick to convince you that your guilt was unnecessary, that the people whose lives the two of you stole away deserved it.

Distract me from my loneliness

They did deserve it right?

Maybe I'm just an anomaly

You continued scrubbing the floor clean, but no matter how hard you scrubbed you could never wash away the fact that someone had died there

Even my demons have their families

You wondered how their families reacted to their loved ones death, were they mournful, were they joyful? Did they not care? Did they even notice?

Truly something must be wrong with me

Would anyone notice if you died? Besides Alastor you didn't have many friends, sure you were kinda friends with Mimzy but that was only because of Alastor, and your family, well, let's not talk about that.

You really didn't have anyone but Alastor, and you were alright with that, if you had Alastor the rest of the world could burn for all you cared.

To need you as much as I do

You heard the door open, you hurriedly dropped the towel into the bucket of now cold water, grabbing another rag you wiped away the remaining liquid.

I was never meant to win

You smiled up at Alastor from the ground.

I was never meant to win

"Welcome back Alastor!"

I was never meant to win

Codependency is truly more harmful then people give it credit for.

You'd sacrifice anything, anyone just to remain by Alastor's side, just to see him smile which he did often.

Here's the reigns

You had done this who knows how many times,

Take ahold of me

Lure them in, hand over to Alastor and then clean up the aftermath while he hid the corpse.

Please don't let me go

You didn't change the routine by much, there wasn't much of a mess this time so Alastor asked that you tag along with him this time.

You do the talking

You held the lantern lighting his area as he dug a deep grave, wouldn't want the body resurfacing anytime soon right?

Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

You whispered something to him before he climbed out of the hallow grave getting ready to put the poor soul he had mercilessly killed in it.

There's a dog barking right around the block

He had just gotten done burying the corpse, you were sat comfortably on the ground with the lantern in your lap, he reached out his hand to help you up.

You both froze when you heard the unmistakeable sound of dogs barking.

And a big ol' whistle blow

Alastor looked at you and you looked back at him, you quickly took his hand to pull yourself up, lantern in your free hand.

Run for it

The two of you ran, you could faintly hear the leaves crunching underneath your feet, the cold night wind stinging your face.

I'll keep em occupied for you

The barking got louder, and you tripped over a tree root, lantern falling onto the grass the candle inside falling just at the right angle to extinguish leaving you in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars above.

Alastor kept running, did he know you fell? He wouldn't abandon you right?

Cause I love you, I love you so

You got up, not bothering to dust yourself off you continued running, you couldn't see Alastor.

Left me hangin at the station

You heard shouting.

Where was Alastor? Did he notice you were missing yet?

But you'll be back for me soon

You saw a glimpse of light.

I'm 'bout to die

You didn't even have time to make a noise as a gunshot was fired into your chest, you fell to the ground.

Where was Alastor? Did he get away? Or was he shot down like you were?

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

You shakily put a hand to the place where the bullet had just entered you, honestly it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

Something tells me you aren't coming

Your vision began to become blurry, was it the blood loss? You didn't think you'd die that quickly,

Would you get to see Alastor one last time?

Guess that I'm truly doomed

Alastor didn't notice you were gone did he? Or maybe he did? Did you really think a future cannibal, present serial killer like Alastor would come back for you? You were a liability.

I'm 'bout to die

It was funny, you knew what kind of person he was and you still held out hope that he wouldn't abandon you.

Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you

You still held out hope even as your blood covered the forest ground.

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you gazed up at the night sky,

You wondered if Alastor was looking up at the sky too, maybe he had gotten home already?

I'm 'bout to die

It was a good night to die, the last sight you'd see would be the star filled night sky.

Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

Alastor let out a string of French words as he turned around to go fetch you, hoping that you weren't too far behind.

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine

Branches and leaves crunched under his shoes as he sped through the woods.

Oh, I know that we're not the same

Your hope that he'd come back for you was slowly dwindling, the voices from before had disappeared, maybe they had fled, maybe they didn't know what they did, or maybe they just didn't care.

My heart's on the line

Alastor stopped by a tree for a moment to catch his breath, the only source of light was the moon and stars above.

I'm just a pawn in your game

To Alastor you were a expendable friend.

Not your partner in crime

In all reality though, To Alastor you were everything, he'd go through hell and back if you asked, he'd take down the most ruthless of people if it'd make you smile.

And you're slowly killing me

You felt tired, you wanted to close your eyes but you fought to keep them open.

You didn't want to die.

Taking your time

Alastor continued running, soon enough he stumbled upon you.

You're slowly killing me, taking your time

With red soaked clothing you laid limp on the ground.

You're slowly killing me

"[Name]? Mon étoile?"

Taking your- I was never meant to win

You smiled as you heard Alastor's voice.

You're slowly killing me

You didn't know if you were imagining it or if he really came back for you,

Maybe it was a last act of comfort given to you before you died.

Taking your- I was never meant to win

Alastor leaned down beside you, he gently put a hand on your cheek.

You're slowly killing me

You smiled at him, just barely being able to mutter an "Alastor."

And yet I don't mind You were never meant to win

You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

You're slowly killing me,

The last thing you saw was Alastor, and the last thing you heard was another gunshot.

But please take your time

At least the two of you would be reunited soon enough.

Good evening folks! Originally I was supposed to post the murder Valentino with JoJo Siwa playing in the background fic today but I hit a slump with the ending and plus I think may have eaten something unfortunate because I feel sick so uh, BACK TO BACK ANGST Y'ALL, ALASTOR TODAY, TV MAN TOMORROW!

[truetogaia]

Interstellar activities

Pairing: Dilf!Jake Sully x Sully Mom!Reader (+the sully's)

Synopsis: Jake remembers that he used to surf. Now he resides in Awa’atlu, surrounded by water and waves, what more does he need?

Warnings: mild angst but mainly just pure fluff

Notes: I thought I was soooo clever for this idea. And I still do, watchu go'n do ab it

Word count: 1.5 k

The waves came crashing against the shoreline of the beach, washing away the remnants of seafoam. The Sully’s were spread out on a wooden carpet, basking in the warmth of the pandorian sun. Kiri and Tsireya were occupied with observing the ocean floor, admiring the beauty of the coral adorned reefs, whilst Lo’ak was completely caught up in some heated discussion with Ao’nung and Rotxo in the shade of the trees.

Tuk’s head was propped up on your shoulder, snoring away in the sun. You had put a hand up to cover your child's head and protect it from the immense heat, but the muscles in your arms were starting to ache. You gently nudged Tuk’s snoozing form awake and soon, she was excitedly dashing towards the sea to join her sister. The faint sounds of laughter and contrasting yelling became more distant as Jake’s gaze shifted focus to the ocean, to the slow rolling of the waves.

His mind wandered to faded memories of his childhood, souvenirs lost to time. This was actually a somewhat regular occurrence, just because he became na��vi didn’t mean his human experiences were just going to completely dissipate into thin air. The familiar sounds of water and shouting kids from childhood trips to the beach were etched deep into the walls of his memory, reminding him of times that had escaped him.

A sudden, powerful gust of wind tempted the waves to climb higher, and the image made something in Jake’s brain dig itself out of the mess. A memory from summers spent taming the monstrous waves on a big, blue board. It had been such a long time since he last stretched his legs on a surfboard and the thought sparked an idea. After losing feeling in his legs, there were many activities that Jake had to quit and forget about. He was devastated, so many beloved hobbies he had, and he could not continue a single one. 

Before he could really process it, he was up on his feet, eagerly excusing himself from his basking mate. Tonowari stood in the shade of some trees, discussing new hunting strategies, when Jake suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of him. The expression painting the omaticaya’s face indicated nothing short of urgency, so Tonowari quickly dismissed his hunters, shifting his attention to Jake’s matters. 

“Are there any really big pieces of wood laying around? Pieces that you don’t have any use for?” The signals of Tonowari’s puzzled expression didn’t quite seem to have reached Jake as he gave no further explanation, and when the metkayina male gestured to a pile of wooden debris, the shorter of the two hastily walked off before he could ask any questions. 

Jake scavenged through the old scraps of wood for a good while before finding a piece big enough for a full grown na’vi. The material was huge, comparable to the wall of a house, or an adult birch tree. He hadn’t stopped to consider the difference in size between his human and his now much bluer and brawnier form when he was carving away at the wood, instead, he had relied heavily on poorly memorized measurements from teenage days. They obviously turned out to be completely wrong, so he had to start all over again. 

Jake worked on his board all evening while the sky grew multiple shades darker, warping its colors and collecting stars. After he had been gone for a few hours, you began wondering about the whereabouts of your mate. When the kids seemed occupied enough, you quietly left your family’s marui pod. The laughter and chatter originating from your pod soon grew distant as you made your way through the village. 

You spotted your beloved, kneeling by something large. Remaining where you were, you only observed from afar to inspect his intentions. A warm smile spread across your face, reflecting the one adorning Jake’s. He looked proud as he held the piece of wood up, examining his handiwork.

It was a very rare sight nowadays, to see your mate be visibly happy over something. Ever since your family had to flee from your home and face the loss of a son, not many cheerful days had been spent. Your time had been filled with duties and awkward interactions, carried out with monotone, keening movements. So to see Jake in a state of pure joy, without the crushing weight of guilt on his shoulders, was refreshing.

After turning around to return to the pod, Jake noticed your form in the dim light of a dying torch, soft features painted orange in the gentle flicker of the flames. 

“Hi, what have you been up to?” Your voice was as soft as the look in your eye, inviting him to share his secrets. 

“Just thought I'd relive some of my youth. Leave some legacy for my kids to carry, you know.” He smiled at you, moving closer to where you stood. The light pressure of a hand attaching itself to your hip sent your heart tingling, warmth spreading through your body.

“Why don’t you relive that youth tomorrow. It is very late, ma Jake.” His expression softened even more at that, confirming with a nod before gently pulling you towards your pod.

It seemed as if the sun shone brighter than usual. The air felt crispier as Jake breathed in slowly, making his way down to the beach. He had the whole family in tow, excitedly hopping around, eager to see what their father had been so happy about. The waves rose higher in the sky today, it was an ideal scenario. The keen expressions on the children's faces spoke of just as much happiness as Jake, it made your heart flutter, eyes glossed over with a thin layer of tears, ready to flow at any moment. 

Excited murmurs and giggles could be heard from the Sully’s marui pod early in the morning, the scratching sounds of wood being carved overpowering the usual sounds of the village as soon as the sun nibbled on the horizon. Jake had let the kids in on his plans as soon as the two of you had come back to the pod. It was decided that Lo’ak was also getting a board of his own, he was too small to ride on the one Jake had: And when the morning light finally hit the walls of the pod, Lo’ak got to work. 

Jake hurried towards the sea, mounting the board as soon as it hit the thrashing water. Lo’ak followed, copying his fathers actions. Your mate had more skill than your son, though, and it all ended up with Lo’ak soaked to the bone, with water cascading down his braids. Jake tried his best to teach his son, but it was difficult. Lo’ak was stubborn and grumpy, having just entered his teenage years, and wouldn’t really listen to what his father said. 

They soon gained an audience, multiple metkayina families had gathered around the piece of land which the Sully’s occupied, watching intently as the two omaticaya wrestled the waves. You were seated in the sand, hands digging into the warmth of it, a nervous tick you had gained for all the times Lo’ak had gotten into trouble. Tuk was playing with a few crab-like creatures in the shady part of the beach, not paying much attention to the ruckus behind her until Jake called her over to try it out. 

Kiri and Spider were situated on a rock, following the movements of their family members with the glimmering lens of a camera, an item Jake had brought “just in case”. Your son was trying his best to look cool on the foreign object, knowing Tsireya was somewhere in the crowd, observing him.

The sound of your laughter filled the air as Tuk tackled Lo’ak off of his board, into the ocean, a smile settling on your face as they both ascended to the surface, smiling. All while Jake was looking over at you, beaming from excitement. Love radiated off of their innocent smiles, melting your heart bit by bit. Oh how you had missed those, the genuine smiles of pure happiness and delight.

The water soon calmed down, the waves descending with it. Jake saw the opportunity and went over to help his son with balance, carefully gliding his board through the water by his side. Lo’ak was sat on the wooden object, clearly not understanding anything. Jake gently put his hand on his son's thigh, reassuring him. 

Lo’ak’s knees were planted on the board as he tried steadying himself while the board shook in sync with the body on top. He was finally able to lay on it, and he paddled towards a smaller wave. He readied himself to jump to his feet, planting his hands on the deck before flexing his legs and standing up. He caught the wave at perfect timing, but it was all too small. Then, a sudden current forced the wave to climb as Lo’ak hit the peak of it, which made him glide effortlessly along the big wave. 

Jake watched from afar. It was a bizarre sight, the wave ascended in such an unnatural way, and it looked peculiar. But then, suddenly, he felt the gentle presence of someone, someone he dearly missed, and he knew. A big brother always looks after his little brother, no matter what.

GAHHH it turned out so bad LMAO anyway, this was so fun to write though!!

[lavandula-ipsum]

The rain will hide us

gif by @tatooineknights

Summary: Stranded on an unkown planet, you've fallen sick. Thankfully, Luke is there with you. However, you might not be the only one in need of care.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Tags: Luke Skywalker x GN!Reader, force sensitive reader, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, one-shot. Angst somehow got in.

The paleness of the morning starts to filtrate through the tent, drawing the dark little spots left by quiet raindrops. Their clatter serves as a gentle wake up call while, outside, an unexplored jungle sleeps.

“How are you feeling?” Before you can even shift in your sleeping bag, Luke has already turned his attention to you, lying a kind hand on your shoulder. For a second, you miss the times when you could have just watched him for a couple of minutes before choosing to signal that you’re awake.

Truth is you feel like shit. A trash compactor could have chewed and spit you out while you were unconscious for all you know. At the effort of answering his question, a raspy whine leaves your sore throat. “Better.”

He’s sitting next to you, not very convinced. There’s urgency tingling the tips of his fingers, you can feel it through the Force. “Is it okay if I check?”

An almost imperceptible shivery note haunts his voice. In the dark circles under his eyes you can sense a long and rough night. You nod. Even though you can feel the last remnants of sickness haven't completely faded from your exhausted body, the back of his hand is warm against your burning cheek and forehead. With an alleviated sigh, Luke finally lets his hand slide down your arm.

“You still have a fever, but it isn’t as high anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Do you remember the crash?”

“A little. I remember the battle, the evacuation when the ship went down.” The mission you embarked on seems to have failed spectacularly. You try to sweep away the thoughts of your fallen comrades, at least till you get back and get to know for sure how many of them are actually gone. “We got into the same escape pod and… this atmosphere messed with the navigation systems, I guess.” You grumble, rubbing the side of your head. “Why don’t I remember much after that?”

“You were trapped in the wreckage for a few minutes. I couldn’t take you out earlier. (Y/N), I’m so sorry. You got some cuts and superficial burns. Perhaps a broken rib.” Oh, so that’s what the bandages are for. And probably why you’ve been stripped down to your standard issue underwear. Suddenly, Luke avoids your gaze and an uncomfortable ripple flutters through the Force, but you’re too distracted frowning at the new scratch across his cheek.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. But you… You were feverish the whole night.” He continues, bringing the med kit closer to show you a box of painkillers, an empty stim canister, an open tube of pomade, anxious to let you know everything he gave you while you were unconscious.

“It’s ok.” You set your hand over his to stop his nervous tinkering through the med kit. “I trust you, Luke. How many times have we done this? Tell me, what happened next?”

He licks his lips, then looks down at his hands. “You became really sick.”

“I’m sorry. I must have scared you. This is all my fault.” You groan before he can start giving you a thousand reasons why it isn’t. “It really is. I knew I was already sick before the mission. It was just a cold two days ago, but I guess it made me more vulnerable to whatever I caught here.”

Luke shifts closer to you, suddenly alarmed. “Why did you come to this mission then? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You remember those agonizing moments when he didn’t show up at the rendezvous point after the battle of Hoth, gone to Force knows where, while you were left alone wondering if he’d been killed. Turns out he’d just left on his own. It’s not as if he owed you any explanation, you were merely friends. He's fated to go out there and do things so far greater than anything having to do with you. So you tried to slap yourself out of this silly anxiety. After all, the others were gone with the Falcon too, and you had to resign yourself to the faith that they'd be alright. 

And then Luke came back, his body battered and his spirit broken worse than you’d ever seen before or since.

Shyly, you slide your fingers out of your cover. He quickly holds them in between his palms. You’re sure the sky outside the tent would pale in comparison with the intensity of his tired gaze right now, glassy and blue. And yet, all you manage to conjure in response is a lie.

“I wanted to feel useful. The Rebellion needs all the hands it can get.” 

If he realizes, he doesn’t say anything. He just leans in to warm your cold hand with his breath. Luke might not be a full Jedi just yet, but he can probably sense how tired you are of this game of claiming guilt for everything, of just rambling around the edges of what neither of you feel brave enough to say. He just knows you that inescapably well.

For now, the tent has become quiet, so quiet you can even hear him swallow. After a second of allowing yourself to stare at the muscles of his neck tense up and relax with the motion, you look down and sink your flaming face into the sleeping bag.

Against his advice, you sit up. The chill bites your exposed skin, setting a feverish tremor within your chest. However, you don’t let him make you settle back into the bedding.

“Can I say something without it turning into another exchange of apologies?” you ask. Noticing your sudden eagerness, he nods. However, his hands remain close, as if you were about to collapse. “Thank you for saving my life. Truly.”

He seems about to reply with some excuse, probably minimizing himself once again, but you raise a warning finger along with a threatening expression. It makes him laugh, brighter than he’s laughed in months. It lasts too little for your taste, but at least the smile lingers on his face.

“Ok, you win this one. Now, that pomade needs to be reapplied.”

After taking a panicked second to realize what he’s asking, you turn slightly so he can get better access to the burn, which covers the back of your shoulder and part of your right arm. Luke scooches closer till you’re basically sitting between his legs. You wonder if he notices his warmth setting you aflame, but he seems too busy readying the ointment to even look at you, his eyes half hidden under soft locks of weathered gold. However, a loaded silence falls in the tent, during which you feel the urge to cover your front with the sleeping bag. 

“It’s gonna feel a little cold,” he warns before touching you, his voice barely audible.

You had already made up your mind to behave and not show any sign of discomfort, but you need to turn away to hide your face. Honestly, you’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the surreal ambience around you, but you swear you’ve never been treated by gentler hands. As they work to spread the medicine, you hold yourself together barely enough to not just let go and plop yourself on his lap. You feel beyond beaten, and over your head a thick cloud keeps your judgment in a state of relaxed lethargy. Truth is his welcoming stance, along with the way his fingers caress your tender skin as he softly talks you through the process, isn’t helping your already lazy resolve.  

“I’m so glad, it doesn’t seem like it got infected. I think there’s a chance it won’t leave a scar once we can get you proper treatment back in the fleet.”

You hum half heartedly in response, doing your best to join in the effort to evade the silence instead of entertaining the thought that you don’t actually want to go back. Because he wouldn’t be with you then. Luke has been avoiding the fleet since Bespin, and you've made up your mind to follow him for as long as he wants you around.

“Have you been awake the whole night? Meditating?”

“Not meditating. Standing guard.”

When he finishes up your new bandages, you hear the rustling of knots coming undone and, right after, you’re covered with Luke’s outer robe. Apparently, your top had to be cut off your body when he first tended to your wounds. As he helps drape the garment around your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves careful to not graze your wounds, the warmth it still bears surrounds you. Ah, it smells like him too. 

Luke seems ready to offer an excuse to quiet your concerns over his lack of sleep, but it fizzles out before your demanding frown. A pained flare crosses behind his eyes as his Force signature heats up around you. He doesn’t mean to leave you out of his thoughts, he truly doesn’t. It’s just that lately they’ve been a mess not even he has felt ready to untangle. And, if he’s not ready to talk, you won’t push him. However, this silence is a little needle to your heart, and the jab reaches him when it becomes too painful for you to hide.

“I tried to meditate until I had to give up. I couldn’t find the peace for it. You were trembling and twisting in your sleep, burning with fever… mumbling things.”

“Were they embarrassing?” you joke, trying to lift the mood a little. However, instead of following you down that path, you feel a little tug. He’s lightly pulling at the edge of your sleeve, well, his.

“Don’t leave me. Please, stay.”

The pressure around your wrist makes it sound like an apology. Why? For letting you fall sick? For leaving you behind and going to Dagobah on his own? You’re getting tired of riddles, and you’re already trembling from the effort of sitting up straight. Your hand lands on his shoulder, a gesture that seems to finally break him out of his spiraling thoughts and look at you.

“And you did. You stayed.”

An exhalation later, you’re buried in his chest. It’s hard to tell who initiated the hug when you’re enthralled by how melting into each other makes everything else melt away. Luke’s hands travel down your hair, and you wonder when taking in this soothing became as easy as breathing. Well, not exactly. There needs to be a spell, a certain quietness to the air like the one flooding the tent right now. Melancholy is usually the trigger, the signature to the wordless contract between the two of you that grants you permission to indulge in this kind of comfort. Later you’d usually dream awake about it, lost in the memory of what feels forbidden during the daylight. It aches a little that at least one of you needs to be in some kind of pain to feel allowed this kind of intimacy. 

A sigh brushes against your ear as Luke barely dares to talk in a whisper. “What if I can’t do this?” 

“Don’t worry, the Rebellion knows we’re here, we’ll be out of here in no time…”

“Not that. It’s about-” The words get lost as they’re spilled from his lips. Luke lets out a shaky breath before sinking deeper into your hair. “Everything.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You always do.” 

“And listen, I truly believe there’s a special path ahead of you. A bright one. However, no matter what happens, even if things go wrong, I’ll be here. I mean- we all will. We’ll love you all the same.”

You nuzzle up closer against him, prompting a pleased sigh out of him. 

“I’ve been leaning on you too much.”

You chuckle, “how so? You just saved me in, like, five different ways just during the last twelve hours.”

“What you do is way more difficult.”

A hand cradles your head close to his chest, while his other arm surrounds you. And, as the silence settles once again, you finally feel him relax around you as your hands travel up his back. Through his thin inner tunic, the heartbeat pressed against your cheek allows itself to slow down a little. 

“You take a nap now. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re hurt,” he complains. “And sick.”

“I’ll have a blaster at hand and wake you up as soon as I hear anything outside, I swear.” You hush him before he can complain. “Do I need you to remind you of your instruction, commander? If you don’t rest you’ll compromise the mission.”

“And what mission is that?”

“Get back to base, safe and sound. And stick together until then.”

Luke brushes your cheek with his thumb, as if to check again if your fever has gone down enough to leave the task to you. “Yeah, I might be able to do that.”

So you get back in the sleeping bag so as to not get cold, and he lays down over it next to you. He does so a bit skittish at first, so you interlock his fingers with yours and guide him down to the most comfortable spot, next to you. Soon, exhaustion defeats any remaining fear and Luke feels brave enough to wrap an arm around you. Soon, sleep has taken him.With your heart coming to a halt, you finally dare to take in his features. Even though a shadow of worry still darkens his brow, his features look softer than you’ve seen lately. It takes you back to those early days in the Rebellion when you weren’t nearly as close, but talking seemed easier. So you stay awake, treasuring every deep breath and the faint rainfall in the background, until the distant buzz of the Millennium Falcon fades the spell away.

link to the source gifset

[howlingday]

So much can Ozpin be blamed for the current trauma of Rwby and Jnor? Like he seem to implie Pyrrha believe only she could do anything which lead her to fight Cinder in what she should know was basically suicide. Now I haven't seen anything so if I'm feel free to tell since you seen the show.

Ah, right. Well, I can't really say for certainty whether Ozpin coerced Pyrrha or if she acted of her own free will or whatever. Honestly, I've even seen people say that Pyrrha was selfish and chose dying to Cinder for the sake of "destiny" over being happy and alive with Jaune. These thoughts make me sad to consider.

BUT a lot of what's wrong in Remnant can be traced back to Ozma pretty much keeping everything quiet, though I can understand why he did it. I mean, look at Leonardo Lionheart and Raven Branwen. These were people he trusted with the secret, and they turned their backs on him, both of them siding with Salem eventually. Now imagine an entire Remnant of Lionhearts and Ravens. Not a pretty picture imagining a civil war, is it?

Still, either or, let's stay on topic with RWBY and JNOR, and Pyrrha VS Cinder. Actually, let's JUST focus on Cinder VS Pyrrha because I've seen people argue over a lot of stuff in RWBY and this moment holds a special place in my heart because this was where RWBY's tone DRASTICALLY changed.

Pyrrha, having escaped Beacon Tower, realizes that Cinder is still alive and killed Professor Ozpin. All the while, she's got this idea of what her destiny is supposed to be, that being her fighting Cinder for the power of the Fall Maiden. Did Ozpin influence her? My gut tells me no, though the circumstances did push her to decide that she HAD to be the one to jump into the pod.

Did Pyrrha have a chance to win in her weakened state against a Fall Maiden powered Cinder? No. Hell no. Not a chance. But she still tried, and she knew that if she didn't try, there was a strong chance that things would only get worse in Beacon. So instead of waiting for someone to show up, which due to the Grimm and the White Fang and the Atlas robots who knows how long that would take, she chose to take matters into her own hands. To take control of her destiny. And when Jaune tried to stop her, she did the only thing she could to protect him; she sent him away on the rocket, distracting him with her first and last kiss.

Pyrrha Nikos, whatever happened, died a hero, trying to stop something she had no chance of beating, and in a way, still fights today.

[bestworstcase]

First i want to say that i love your rwby analysys, but i just discovered your blog, so can you explain to me why you hate Ozpin so much? Like, every minor thing he does and says must have some malicious intention behind it, but everything Salem does is part of a big plan that means that she's not actually evil?

ooh it’s been a while since we had one of these! 1. i think perhaps a closer read of my salem analysis is called for, because you’ll notice that i am, er, not shy about noting that salem is evil and this is in fact a central tenet of my reading of the narrative; i just don’t think she’s a one-note genocidal lunatic and it is extremely obvious that the narrative is heading in a "the brothers were and are wrong, and salem wants them gone" direction; 2. oz is second in my heart only to salem and cinder, which sort of speaks for itself in terms of "this character did bad things!" not being remotely a bad thing in my book, 3. and speaking of cinder, i get exactly as cranky about uwuified fanon sad wet rag ozpin who’s never done a thing wrong as i do uwufied fanon poor wittle cindy who doesn’t want to hurt people but salem makes her do it for exactly the same reason, which is that it strips out everything that makes these characters narratively and emotionally compelling in favor of mashing them into gutless marshmallow pod people for the sake of… i don’t know, making them neat and bland and easily digestible, i guess? uwu?

4. this is an ozlem house

5. i don’t think ozma has ever acted with malicious intention; rather, he’s been coerced into this situation where his faith in his god, his intense desire to do the right thing, and his terror of what will happen if he fails or disobeys—in combination with a divine curse that is literally designed to prevent him from being able to change or break free, because he has a reflection of himself monitoring his thoughts and actions all the time—are at war with his true desire (he wants to be with salem) and his conscience (he knows that salem was right about what is necessary to fulfill his task, that uniting the whole world under one creed is impossible except by genocidal conquest, and he cannot bring himself to do it because it’s wrong). he’s trying very hard to do the right thing in a situation where he genuinely believes his only options are to commit genocide for his god or sacrifice the whole world for his love and he is desperate to figure out a third option that does not end with "rocks fall everybody dies;" thence the lies and manipulation and all the miserable moral sacrifices he’s ever made.

6. the reason this is an ozlem house, in the sense that my reading of the narrative in its entirety is predicated on the ozlem reconciliation, is that salem and ozma are two sides of a coin: she is doing terrible things in pursuit of a world where the gods aren’t holding a knife to remnant’s throat and he has done terrible things for the sake of the same. their conflict isn’t evil-vs-good, but apostate-vs-zealot; salem believes the gods can and must be defied and ozma believes her defiance is doomed to failure. salem tells him that in order to unite the world he needs to spread his word and crush all who deny him; as the king of vale, ozma uses the divine relic of destruction to lay waste to not only his enemies but even his own allies, thus he forges the vytal accords that established the united global order in which the story takes place. he’s a better person than she is—because she’s been living in exile for thousands of years and her capacity for caring about other people has withered away to almost nothing as a consequence—but they are in every sense equals.

7. the narrative is overtly not on ozpin’s side? he has a whole atonement arc about it in atlas—& this is why i made the comparison to uwuified fanon cinder earlier, because the framing with regard to ozpin is very emphatically clear that he does a lot of things that are not good, and are in fact pretty sinister and in some cases (amber, pyrrha) outright evil, and he has to make the choice and put in real meaningful effort to be better. i don’t think there’s anything to be gained from ignoring what is plainly in the text of the story, especially when rwby is categorically disinterested in sorting its characters into neat little good-or-bad boxes. there’s no such thing as pure evil—that’s been the explicit textual conceit since volume one—and the implied converse is that there’s no such thing as pure good, either. (which is a conceit that ozlem exemplifies.)

8. i threw a fucking PARTY when we found out salem razed vale, i get the vapors every time i think about what sort of narrative escalation we can expect in V10 given that something as huge as razing vale can happen off screen to set the stakes for vacuo. not that i don’t also adore characters who are good or who (like oz in v7-8) grow and change to become better, because i do, but i really can’t emphasize enough how much i Do Not hate fictional characters on the basis of them doing awful things. what i want from a character is for them to be interesting, which ozpin is. what you’re perceiving as me hating on him is me dissecting him under a microscope because i love him to bits.

9. the ozlem screeds will continue until morale improves

[kxkarot]

@regulus-regent Continued

His first thought upon waking is to analyze where he is. His second is to take immediate note of his current situation. Some unfamiliar planet, different than the one he'd previously been on and the ache in the back of his head suggested that something had hit him hard for him to loose conscious. Tail bristling in agitation at the fact something like this happened, he must have been careless. He's going to find whoever thought this was a smart idea and disembowel them for this transgression.

His gaze eventually clears, there's some type of muzzle on him, from the blood around his mouth he can assume he fought like hell before being knocked unconscious. He had no issue using fangs and claws if it came down to it. There was something around his tail if he moved his head enough, some type of metal clamp, weighing it down and dragging on his sense of balance. Just from his surroundings and the two guards nearby, he knows it's remnants of the frieza force that haven't yet joined up with Cooler's army. No doubt they were trying to use him as a ticket to get in. Fuck.

"The monkey's awake." "Knock him out again. Im trying to get contact with the boss and tell him we struck gold." "Should I even touch him? You doing it Rashp, he looks like he'll rip my arm off." "He's chained up!? the fuck are you so scared of!?" Fingers tightening around the chains digging into his flesh, some look like they're run through his arms. No matter. A few days in a healing pod. "He'll just be another servant, trading one master for another." Gaze locking onto the arrogant guard, there's more coming over, more. Fuck this is going to be a battle.

The spear beams him upside the head, hard. He'll give them that, they know how to throw a hit with it. Spots dance in his vision but he clings to reality. Inhaling deeply as rage flows through his blood, alongside adrenaline. "Resilient ape." They snarl and he ducks his head with their next attempt, prompting them close enough he can lung, snagging the chains before pulling quickly, looping it around the guards head. Pain flares through his body as a spear runs through his shoulder. Panic. Chaos. He snarls as something shoots him. "You..." Another hit. He starts to choke out the guard, turquoise flashing in his eyes.

"I am a saiyan warrior. Beyond the fucking elite!!" The choking sputters are all that responds as he struggles with his restraints, the muzzle cracking along the edges as his ki flares, burning bright with a tint of golden yellow to it's depths. There's a power burning in his veins and he wants at it, but it filters away. Like it hasn't found him worthy of it yet and it pisses him off even more. "I'll use your skulls to decorate that pathetic vessel you call a ship!!" He snarls, straining more and more against the chains to gain some leeway to snap the guards neck before turning to the icoming wave of them. "Come on! I'll kill all of you maggots!!"

[neopoliitan]

TEAM RAIN: ARC 4 CH4 - BEST LAID PLANS

A WRITE UP FOR THE REST OF TEAM RAIN: CHAPTER 4

We open on a scene in Zenith. Viorel and Zelena Braith open Roderick Lincoln’s cell to reveal they have brought him the last remnants of the Lincoln Clan, now with an active aura like him. They present it as company, but note that  Gardner Braith will return to drain their aura to replenish his upon their return from hunting Otso Umber.

The clansmen are these;

Crete Reed, A warrior woman based on Britomartis.

Oak Holm, a man who was briefly seen in the back of some Arc 2 shots.

Loden Lincoln, a teenager and third or fourth cousin of Robin.

Primrose, a teenage girl with round glasses.

Fennel, the son of Kodiak Lincoln and around 7-9 years old.

Crete sees Artemis Garland lying on a cot, still comatose but out of the pod she was previously in implying she’s gotten a little stronger. Crete runs to her side.

Sterling Braith enters and tells her not to get attached, ordering the Talos robots to restrain the clansmen. Viorel cautions that there’s no time for his vendetta, to which Sterling responds he’s making time. He advances on Roderick, telling him “Your sister cut my arm off, so it’s lucky for me that you’re here.” Before Roderick can reply, Sterling socks him in the face with one of his new prosthetic arms.

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do to you, but if it doesn’t kill you… You’re damn well gonna wish it did.”

Zelena looks slightly shaken and follows Viorel out of the room. Viorel coldly comments that now “the terminal” is fixed, Roderick has outlived his use and this is the least he deserves. Zelena asks if “the terminal” is really going to change anything, to which Viorel grows frustrated and tells her not to have second thoughts - they’ve come this far already; she “isn’t there to think”, and that Kamala will show her no more mercy than “they” did if she backs out.

Lilli Lincoln wakes up in her bed, unable to sleep. She heads downstairs to the kitchen for some water and comes across Petra Redwood. Petra mentions the 7-day time limit Kamala Braith issued Team RAIN, which Lilli didn’t know about. Her expression unreadable, she heads upstairs.

She grabs her labrys.

We cut to Robin asleep in her room. Lilli kicks the door open and slings her buzzsaw-shield at Robin.

ROBIN: What are you doing?! What the hell is this about?!

LILLI: E V E R Y T H I N G ! I’m sick of you, and I’m sick of your stupid face! You always get what you want! Even after coming home and getting dad KILLED!

Lilli swings again.

LILLI: Pitch was the closest thing I had to a friend, and now he’s GONE! I was the LAST ONE to be told about Marina even though I'm FAMILY! You told everyone EXCEPT ME about Mom and Roderick being ALIVE! And I just found out that even though you only have seven days to save them, you go and SLEEP THROUGH ONE--!

Robin blocks one of Lilli’s attacks, and the two are held in stalemate.

ROBIN: LILLI-! What the hell is going on? Why are you always trying to fight me--!?

LILLI: BECAUSE IT’S THE ONLY TIME YOU EVER NOTICE I’M THERE!

They relax slightly at this moment of honesty. Lilli smiles weakly.

LILLI: You were always the favorite, even after you got sent away from home. Mom and Dad never shut up about you. “Why can’t you be more like your sister? Why can’t you be more like Robin?” They would’ve switched us without a second thought if it meant getting Robin back. 

Lilli relaxes, her arms hanging limp.

LILLI: It’s not like I wanna be mean. It’s just that people only notice me when they’re angry at me.  ...They’d just be happier if I was gone, huh?

We see flashbacks to:

Roderick scolding Lilli (pg297)

Artemis Scolding Lilli (pg828)

Marina [then Tobin] scolding Lilli (pg331)

Robin shoving Lilli (pg828)

ROBIN: I should’ve seen the signs. No one wishes you were gone.

LILLI: Don’t. Don’t lie to me like that.

ROBIN: I’m not.

We see a Flashback to Robin saying “there’s nothing I’d rather be than kind” in Arc 3 Ch9 (pg. 746)

ROBIN: We weren’t there for you after what happened back home, and I didn’t even think twice about it. ...But I wanna try to be there for you now, if you’ll let me. Lilli, I’m sorry.

Lilli begins to sob, and Robin reaches out to embrace her sister. Her sister. Who she treated like an enemy for years. She embraces her as Lilli apologizes too, and we see Lilli’s aura activate in a moment of emotional height.

–

Irving, Nyssa, Jin, the Hawthornes, Team ZNON, and Peach’s Team disembark from Raleigh Radcliff’s ship as it touches down in the Tsubaki District.

Farran Hawthorne commends Irving’s bravery in showing mercy to Team ZNON and defeating the rat king, telling him he’s proud. Irving turns around and says he’s not proud of his father for closing ZNON’s school and turning them against him, making them easy to manipulate. He tells his father to use his political power to set them up in a school in Mistral so that the world doesn’t have more Violas to deal with.

Robin and Akane reunite with Irving and Nyssa. Robin says she’s glad Irving’s family made it out safe unlike hers, but Irving cuts her off and tells her it wasn’t her fault - it was bad luck they chose the Lincolns.

Raleigh approaches Team RAIN and tells them they have some explaining to do.

–

We cut to Jin and Peach. Peach reveals she was adopted by a couple who she refers to as “her dad” (Bjorn Vermell) and her “science dad” (Konstantan Vermell). They wanted to get her out of the orphanage after seeing how malnourished she was, and her “science dad” later engineered her prosthetic legs.

Peach asks if the orphanage is still there. Jin tells her the Sisterhood marched in and made sure the kids were safe, while the adults “didn’t hurt anyone else.” She then asks if Peach held the final argument before they were separated against her, and Peach admits she doesn’t even really remember it. Once she knew her parents were good people, she asked Konstantan to put out feelers to find Jin, but by then it was too late. 

Jin looks at the old photo of them both, but Peach brushes it away. She tells her that she’s here now, and places Jin’s hand on her heart. The two rest their foreheads against each other.

–

40 years ago.

We see Raleigh Radcliff being congratulated on his victory in the 21st Biennial Vytal Festival.

Briefly we cut away to a young Otso Umber in a medical ward, his head bandaged - his grip tightens on the sheets of his hospital bed in envy as he sees Raleigh reaping the glory.

It’s revealed we’re watching Raleigh’s victory in the present day as a presentation on 58-year-old Raleigh’s scroll. Robin tells him they’re happy to have him along now they’ve seen his skills.

Raleigh reveals that Otso cut off his left leg from below the knee during one of their fights, and that he has a prosthetic - he has his own motives for fighting Otso. Irving questions what originally started their feud, and Raleigh tells him that he took Otso’s place in the tournament finale, after Otso couldn’t compete due to a head injury - and that Otso ‘didn’t deserve the win anyway’.

Raleigh asks what they know about the Braiths; they’re a family of good fighters, proficient with Aura and fusing Grimm and humans. When asked about their weaknesses, Akane recalls that she made Zelena falter when the latter stole her truth semblance.

Akane and Irving surmise that their tech suggests Atlas. Robin recalls Roderick telling her that the Braiths’ base was called Zenith, but Raleigh doesn’t know it and Akane can’t find any info on it on cached offline CCT information on her scroll.

Robin quickly recalls the Crazy Bunch who worked under Sterling and Zelena, and how they managed to apprehend one of them. Raleigh says interrogating him is worth a shot, and takes Akane with him to verify the man’s answers.

–

Nyssa visits home and shares closure over Pitch with her mother, Maera. Murasaki drops in, assuring them that the Sisterhood is in the capable care of Team BRUT. When questioned on how trustworthy BRUT are, Murasaki replies that she is trying to steer them right and give them a purpose, the same way the previous Sisterhood leader did for her.

Murasaki reveals that after she got her head together regarding Pitch, she contacted Maera and the two talked it over. Both of them shared relationships with Pitch, but she won’t go into detail just yet. She regrets not dealing with him the moment she laid eyes on him in the Sisterhood cave.

–

Robin and Lilli are attempting to bond. Robin called Lilli downstairs to ask her if she wants to attend Combat School in Mistral while she and her team venture to Atlas - unless Lilli wants to argue and come with them. Lilli proclaims she’s not an idiot, but seems unconvinced that Elysium Academy will take her. Robin reassures her by complimenting her fighting ability.

Marina interrupts by sticking her head through the wall behind them - revealing that her semblance does not only consist of invisibility, but intangibility. She notes that Robin and Lilli are getting along better, but the same can’t be said for Robin and Marron.

Robin argues that she’s not budging - she won’t get Marron mixed up in her mess again. Marron wants to go to Atlas, but Robin doesn’t - so do they just break up?

Lilli interjects by telling her to compromise, to find a solution that works for both of them. After being pestered by the other two siblings, Robin gets up and agrees to talk it over. When she leaves, Marina tries to banter with Lilli, but the youngest Lincoln sister halts her, unfolds a sheet of paper and reads:

"Please do not attempt to make light conversation or banter with me. You are still complicit in my neglect for your own reasons, and are, therefore, an absolute carbuncle. I forbid you from attempting to take a shortcut by hijacking the effort Robin has made."

Marina is stumped, then admits that’s a fair point.

–

Marron is sitting on the porch of the Tsubaki District house. Robin sits down next to her.

After a moment, Robin asks if Marron knows why she doesn’t want her to come to Zenith, which Marron confirms. Robin tells her that she doesn’t want her to get hurt, which Marron spins back on her - she isn’t going to wait around like a sailor’s wife hoping that Robin might come back, that she doesn’t need Robin’s protection.

Robin begins to observe that they’re at an impasse, but Marron interrupts.

“I need you to show me some trust -- some faith in my judgment. Some faith that I know what to do if things go to hell. I need you to accept that you're not the only one who knows what they're doing. And I need you to understand that my decisions aren’t yours to make.”

Robin takes this in.

She apologises for coddling Marron, and observes that Marron knew how to break Sterling and when to call for her help. She admits that between her father’s death and her treatment of Nyssa and Lilli, her own judgment hasn’t been the best.

She trusts Marron to know her limits and make the right calls.

The two hold hands and stay there on the porch for a while. Slowly, they begin to make small talk about what they’ll do once this is all over.

[shards-of-silver]

A thought re: Peridea

Peridea is introduced as "the purrgil graveyard". The rings around the planet are the bones of millions of spacewhales.

That means in Rebels, the purrgil pod really went "these Imperials need to fucking DIE" when they pulled up over Lothal. Judging by the fact they took a whole FLEET out and we only see the remnants of one SHIP in Ahsoka, it seems like they had a high success rate.

Chopper WISHES he was cold as them whales.

[writinginfinite]

imagine part ix

imagine: form a mental image or a concept

plot: you didn’t know what you were getting into when you turned your hobby into an actual career on f1. based on Lewis’ “imagine” tweet.

Sunday, May 8, 2022

"congrats"

You stirred around in bed, trying to hide from the Miami sunrise that was creeping through your hotel room curtains to no avail. You started to awake. As you lifted your head, it was throbbing, along with your eyes felt puffy. 

When you finally gained the strength to lift your head and open your eyes, it reminded you of why you were feeling this way. On the desk in front of your bed sat your laptop, the screen still on. Your notebooks were slightly scattered around the desk and your backpack was wide open. It looked like the desk of a college student cramming for finals. It may have looked like a normal mess to most, but it wasn’t like you. Last night left you drained and defeated.

It was nearing one in the morning, and you couldn’t sleep after sending your response to Lewis, so you wrote. Your mind was racing with ideas and thoughts, but you could not type the words. Writing was your escape but, at that moment, it was your biggest obstacle. That frustration had built up inside and was like a dam ready to burst. 

You wanted to go back to bed, but you forced yourself to get it. You walked over to the cluttered desk to try and clean things back up. A blank Word document with a blinking cursor stared back at you as you closed the screen. The remnants of anger and despair were clear, but you had no choice but to pull yourself together.  

As you looked around your hotel room, your eyes noticed the small coffee maker. You walked over and looked at the limited choices of coffee pods. Drinking coffee wasn’t your thing, but you thought a simple change in your morning routine would help you move in the right direction. You chose a random pod and placed it into the machine before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

When you entered the bathroom and turned on the light, an unrecognizable face greeted you in the mirror. Your once radiant demeanor had vanished. Bloodshot red eyes with dark circles underneath, along with faint creases in your forehead to top it off. You hadn’t realized how much weight you had been carrying until it was staring back at you. With a heavy head, you slowly walked to the shower, hoping the hot water would give you some energy.

As you applied your makeup and got dressed, you stared at the person in the mirror. You uttered words of affirmation to yourself, hoping they would boost your confidence, but the words felt empty and forced. You mumbled, “It is what it is,” as you took one final look at your reflection in the mirror. You sighed and turned off the bathroom light, feeling disappointed in yourself for not being able to believe your own words. 

You walked over to the cup of coffee you had brewed earlier. With one sip, the familiar bitterness reminded you that you still hated coffee. You wondered if it was because you forgot to add creamer or maybe because you had brushed your teeth. Regardless of the reasons, it only added to your growing frustration this morning. However, you kept drinking, as if trying to force yourself to like it, just like you were trying to force yourself to feel confident.

You moved around your hotel room with coffee in hand, gathering your essentials for the day. You triple-checked your bags, making sure you had everything you needed before leaving. As you grabbed the doorknob, you took a deep breath, realizing that just changing your routine wouldn't magically change your situation as you hoped. You couldn't change your circumstances overnight, but you also knew that you couldn't keep wallowing in self-pity. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had to be willing to take small steps toward your goals. It meant facing your own doubts and fears along the way, but you had to continue. It was up to you to make positive changes in your life, and that dwelling on negativity would only hold you back. You control your own destiny.

//

The morning of the Miami Grand Prix, you found yourself once again sitting alone at your table in the media center. You were typing away on the same Word document as last night. Your race analysis and recaps were past due in your mind, but you were still struggling to put your thoughts and ideas into coherent statements. 

Your phone pinged with a text notification from an unknown number. Your initial instinct was to immediately delete the message without even opening it, knowing better than to click on links from unfamiliar numbers. However, something inside you told you to read it, and you hesitantly tapped on the message.

"Congrats," the text read, with a link to Twitter. Your curiosity got the best of you. You clicked on the link. As the Twitter app opened, your eyes widened in surprise. There was a photo of you, announcing you as a guest on "Any Driven Monday," for tomorrow evening. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the tweet over and over again, trying to process what was right in front of you.

Then you remembered you had completely forgotten about agreeing to be on the show just days ago on the Paddock. With so much happening during, the appearance had slipped your mind. However, a surge of excitement washed over you as the reality of the opportunity sank in. 

As you looked up from your phone, you noticed the other reporters in the media room staring at you with narrowed eyes filled with envy. You could sense a mix of emotions in the air- jealousy, and curiosity. It made you frown, and a sense of unease rose in your chest, along with a side of satisfaction creeping in. You knew that the world of racing journalism could be competitive and cutthroat, and not everyone would be happy for your success.

You quote retweeted the tweet with, “So much has been going on, I forgot. It’s been months in the making so I’m excited it’s finally happening! Hope you can all tune in wherever you are in the world.” As you hit the send button, a sense of anticipation and nervousness washed over you. You couldn’t run away and play sick this time. 

 //

You looked up from your phone, feeling a sudden presence, and locked eyes with a woman standing in front of you. Her sly grin sent a shiver down your spine. You knew she was stirring up something.

"So, how'd you luck in this appearance on Any Driven Monday?" she asked, her tone dripping with jealousy and disdain for you. You knew she was trying to belittle you, and you were getting more annoyed every second she stood next to you.

Without even thinking, you blurted out, "Damn, you’re not even going to congratulate me?" The words slipped out before you could even process them. You realized it was a bold move, but you couldn't back down now. You were now drawn into the game she started, and you were going to play along. Her grin slowly slipped into a frown because your response caught her off guard. She mumbled some words under her breath, and her annoyance became more clear. You stood your ground, feeling a surge of confidence developing.

You couldn't resist watching as she made her way back to a table filled with the others. It was obvious she was telling them about your interaction just seconds ago, and you were certain she was twisting the truth to be the victim. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the table as they all turned around in sync to look at you. Their facial expressions read a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Feeling a surge of satisfaction, you gave them a quick wave and let out a quiet laugh as you caught them turning red with embarrassment, realizing you caught them. It was a rare moment of carefreeness amid the constant tension, and you soaked in the joy it brought you.

As you went back to try and make sense of what was on your laptop screen, you felt a new sense of confidence. You were proud of yourself at that moment. You wouldn’t know how long it would last, so you tried not to dwell on that. Your focus now was getting ready for the race and interviews that followed. 

//

You walked out of the media center, and into the grandstand area, and you were feeling amazing. The Miami Grand Prix was moments away from starting and you wanted to be outside to experience it. Watching this inaugural Grand Prix from a monitor felt wrong. You weren’t sure if it was you being delusional, but part of you was slightly optimistic about Lewis’ chances, even though he was starting from P6. You watched the cars line up on the grid and listened to the sounds of the crowd and engines being revved. Then it was time for lights out. 

As the cars rounded Turn 1, your hopes quickly faded. "Same shit, different track," you muttered to yourself in frustration as a Red Bull easily took P2 from Carlos. By Lap 9, you had seen enough overtakes that it took nearly everything out of you not to walk back inside and start writing the same article from the previous week. You decided against it and found an area off to the side to continue watching this race for second and third place. 

At Lap 41, a virtual safety car turned into a full Safety Car, making the race become interesting, but not how you’d hoped. You watched as Russell took advantage of the Safety Car, taking new tires, but Lewis stayed out as a sitting duck–in P6. You weren’t sure if it was the teams or Lewis’ call to not get new tires, but as an outsider, you hated it. In annoyance you sent out a tweet, “I need someone to explain what’s going on at Mercedes, please. Not calling in both drivers is crazy to me. Then again, I’m not a strategist or World Champion.” You were trying to make light of this questionable situation. 

By Lap 49, what you didn’t want to happen happened. The two Mercedes teammates dueled, and your heart sank as you watched, once again, new tires winning against Lewis. As they reached Turn 11, his teammate forced Lewis off the track, giving Lewis his spot back. You cringed on the inside, imagining how tense radio communication and commentary would make of that moment. 

You knew it would be only a matter of time before another bad tire call would screw Lewis, and you didn’t want to be around to witness any more of it. You took the time to cool off and head to the media center, trying your hardest to hide your disappointment. If it frustrated you from watching, there were no words you could think of to describe how Lewis was feeling. You knew that this was just the latest in a long line of bad tire calls that had cost Lewis valuable points. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself to stay calm and professional, knowing that there would be post-race pit interviews to conduct and articles for you to write.

But deep down, you couldn't shake your emotions. You knew Lewis was a talented driver, but it seemed like he was constantly being held back by poor strategy and bad luck. You couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the race and see how he was coping with yet another setback.

//

You were back in the bustling media pits watching, and driver by driver went back. You didn’t have questions for them because you were becoming familiar with how they would respond and it didn’t seem worth it at that moment. That was until Lewis stopped at your section. 

You listened as Lewis expertly answered the bait questions, hiding his annoyance. When the questions finally stopped, you took it as your time to ask yours. "First, hi Lewis, I hope you’re well. I just have one question, if you don’t mind?” Lewis nodded and answered, “Of course, I have time for your questions.” 

“Thanks. You've had a lot of success in your career, Lewis, and it’s still early in the season, but how do you stay positive after not having won so far this season? Would you say so far, this car hasn’t been successful?" you asked Lewis cautiously. You didn’t know if that question would touch a nerve because it was looking as if Lewis was sacrificing his season for data. The situation annoyed you as an outsider looking in. If it were frustrating you, it probably would be tough for Lewis.

Lewis took a quick breath before answering, causing you to panic on the inside. "That's an interesting question. Many people believe that success is all about winning, but it's not. It's about how you bounce back from disappointment and handle adversity. At times, this car felt like a disappointment, but the team and I keep going race by race. I collect data and we as a team try to figure out what to fix so we can be back up front. Success is about how you keep pushing even when things aren't how you dreamed they would." 

There was a moment of silence before Lewis finished speaking. The pause felt almost intentional. It was as if Lewis wanted you to take a second to process what he had just told you. “To be successful, you have to stay focused and positive, even when the odds are against you. And that's what I try my hardest to do every day. I can’t let the lack of wins so far in the season keep me down. I can’t let constant criticism get in my head. I keep pushing, keep working, and keep believing in myself. I’m sure you understand what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I totally understand what you mean,” another reporter who must have been listening blurted out. “Good for you,” Lewis responded, without breaking eye contact with you. 

You had interviewed Lewis a couple of times in your short period here, but this interview felt different. You weren’t sure if Lewis was asking you a question or finishing his statement. It brought you back to reality when you heard Lewis say your name in a calm voice. “You understand what I’m getting at, right?” You looked at Lewis to see his head slightly tilted as if he was trying to read your body language because you hadn’t responded yet. You were the reporter, not the athlete, so you weren’t used to being asked questions. That moment causes you to become flustered and struggle to find your words again. 

“Thank you, Lewis,” was all you could mutter out. Though it wasn’t a direct ‘yes,’ your tone of voice let Lewis know you understood what he was getting at. You watched as he let out a sigh of relief. You knew he was trying to give you subtle advice in a way that the other reporters that stood around watching wouldn’t catch. To them, it was a simple “Lewis Hamilton answer”, but to you, it was a heart-to-heart. You were both experiencing the same struggles just at different extremes. 

A Mercedes PR member, loudly asked, "Any more questions?" effectively signaling the end of the media session for everyone. Ending the moment with Lewis, you didn’t know if it would happen again. As it became clear that no one had any further questions, the media members started making their way back toward the media center. Just as you were about to leave, you locked eyes with Lewis. He uttered the word "Congrats," accompanied by a swift wink, before walking towards the team’s garage. Everything happened so suddenly that you barely had time to realize what had just happened or respond before Lewis disappeared from your sight.

As you stood alone in the media pit, you were still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded. Your mind was drawn back to the text from the unknown number hours ago. "Congrats," it had read. Earlier you had brushed it off as a wrong number or spam and hadn’t bothered to reply. But now, the sender of the message could be more important than you thought.

You quickly gathered your belongings and headed back to the media center to play FBI detective. The short walk back to your seat felt like an eternity as your mind raced with various scenarios. Could it be Lewis? But how could he have gotten my number? Did I leave my number on my business accounts? Or was it a prank?

As you got back into your seat, you stared at your phone screen. The coincidence was too strange to ignore, even though it was highly unlikely. You were running on a little sleep, and the lack of clarity only added to your sense of delusion. You debated on calling the number or just ignoring it again. But you settled on texting the unknown number back. 

You typed a quick reply: "Thank you." But as soon as you hit the arrow button, the once blue iMessage bubbles turned green, which usually indicated that you had been blocked. Confusion washed over you as you stared at your phone, trying to make sense of it all. It was going to be a long night. 

//

When you walked into your hotel room, you headed straight for the shower to end your night. Instead of heading straight to bed as you first started to, you grabbed your laptop from your bag and sat at the desk in your room. The only light came from your laptop screen and the half-crescent moon peeking through the curtains. You found yourself writing, unlike last night. You were writing an article that differed from your usual race recaps and analysis. A topic that was often avoided in mainstream motorsports, including yourself. You couldn’t shake your encounter from earlier and felt writing about it would help. 

As you wrote, the words flowed more easily than they had the previous night. You were back to being able to write your thoughts and emotions into sentences. That urge and passion that was dimming was reigniting. It was taking you longer to come up with a title than to write the article because you wanted to capture the message without giving everything away. You read over it one last time and whatever the first title came to mind, you’d stick with it.

 

//

It’s nearing 2 in the morning as I write this and outside my hotel window dimly shines the moon. It’s in the “half-crescent” phase. Gazing at it told me two things. First, it’s time for me to sleep and second, well, you can read on for that answer: 

Lewis Hamilton is no stranger to success. With 103 wins and 7 championships, he is considered the “Greatest of All Time,” whether or not people want to give him his flowers. However, the 2022 season hasn’t been kind to him. Five races into the season, and only a single podium at Bahrain, it could feel to some like the pressure is mounting.

Lewis has made it known he’s testing different setups for Mercedes. With so much success had to come sacrifice, right? To some, he is sacrificing his season for data, and to others who waited for this moment, he is “washed.” No matter how people viewed Lewis Hamilton, it feels odd seeing him up front.  

I asked about Lewis' lack of success so far in the season and his answer shocked me. There was no anger or resentment, but it was an answer of resilience. Lewis spoke about how success was not just about winning, but about how one bounced back from disappointment and handled adversity.

"Success is all about winning, but it's not. It's about how you bounce back from disappointment and handle adversity. At times, this car felt like a disappointment, but the team and I keep going race by race. I collect data and we as a team try to figure out what to fix so we can be back up front. Success is about how you keep pushing even when things aren't how you dreamed they would."

Success isn’t just about winning to Lewis, but about how one bounced back from disappointment and handled adversity. Yes, he acknowledged the car had been a disappointment at times, but he and the team were pushing forward. He emphasized that success was about how one keeps pushing even when things don’t go as planned, and how one stayed focused and positive despite the odds.

Lewis exemplified resilience and mental toughness at that moment. He keeps pushing forward, despite setbacks and criticism. No one can say positively that’s how it always is for Lewis; he’s made us aware of that in an Instagram story. “I have struggled mentally and emotionally for a long time. To keep going is a constant effort, but we have to keep fighting. We have so much to do and achieve."

You could ask “What else is there for Lewis Hamilton to achieve?” but the sky is truly the limit for him. Lewis Hamilton is a reminder of how success is not always measured by wins and accomplishments in life, but by how one handles setbacks and keeps pushing forward -even when the odds are against you. You may be the only one in your field, and feel you don’t belong, but you must remember you got there because of your hard work. There’s no need to explain yourself. 

The half-crescent shape is less than half illuminated, a visible portion of the moon. It’s said to represent the passage of time, the concept of change and transformation. To me, it’s a reminder that even in darkness there’s always a glimmer of light - a glimmer of hope.

//

You felt a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction after reading your work. You didn’t know you were capable of writing a piece that carried a message. “Resilience and Mental Toughness” popped into your mind, and sticking to your word, you decided on that title. It was a testament to the inner strength is required in work and in life, something that resonated with you deeply. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of fulfillment as you hit the "Publish" button on your website, knowing that you had shared something important. 

Somewhere in the world people were awake, so you sent out a tweet linking to the article, “This is a little different from normal race recaps and analysis. They’ll be back soon.” You closed your laptop immediately after sending the tweet, knowing you needed sleep. But your mind kept going back to that text from the unknown number. You grabbed your phone and started scrolling through the people you followed online, thinking it could be someone you knew personally who got a new number. But no one was sticking out or seemed familiar.

Time slipped by quickly as you scrolled through Instagram, and before you knew it, the app forced closed and you saw it was already half past 3 in the morning. You sighed and decided to call it quits for the night, preparing to plug in your phone when you noticed a Twitter notification - a direct message from Lewis. Suddenly, you were wide awake.

“From the title alone, I’m intrigued. I normally don't read things like this, but I may take a peek. Also, I hope you understood when I was getting at earlier today”

You read the message over and over, trying to grasp what was happening. Would he actually read something I wrote? You wrote so many responses. You debated on bringing up the race, telling him he gave it all he could and you’re sorry it didn’t go how he’d hoped. You decided against it because you wanted to talk to Lewis, the individual, not the driver you saw less than 10 hours ago. So you kept the reply simple,

“It means a lot, thank you. Please let me know if I should edit anything or if you feel should be added in. It’s not my normal way of doing things, but this is a first.” 

You didn’t expect Lewis to respond until the morning, but to your surprise, he was typing. “I’ll see. Have a nice night ... well, morning. Also, don’t you have a show to prepare for in the evening?”

His message brought a smile to your face. He was using your own words from the previous night against you. You couldn't think of a witty reply, so all you could type was, “Those words sound familiar. For once in my life, I’ll take someone else’s advice. Have a nice night as well.” You were in bed smiling like an idiot over a direct message. 

You quickly put your phone on the charger face down to avoid seeing any more notifications. You couldn’t believe what your life was like right now, nor did you have anyone to tell. 

// parts

author's notes: this is a little different. i took some of what i wrote from a personal article i wrote an incorporated it in part ix. this is the "something different" i tried.

i know it's been a minute, and i hope this isn't underwhelming. life, i've been busy. this isn't proofread, so forgive me. i'll edit it tomorrow.

[thenewfuture]

Blah blah blah I wanna help my cousin this, I wanna help Monaca that. If your words are genuine why not joined despair Miaya? It could be fun, plus I don't think you'll win her over by apealing to her "morals" is gonna help you.

Yeah, right? You're basically already there at this point.

Back up a minute. You said something about "my" method of brainwashing?

Yeah with your thingie. The...New Universe Simulation or whatever?

That's not true at all...! The Neo World Program doesn't brainwash people, it undoes brainwashing!

Hmmm, are you sure? Brainwashing in its simplest terms, is making someone change their personality to your liking. And isn't that what you did to the Remnants? You didn't like them being Despair so you changed them?

What?! You have no idea what you're talking about! It was designed as a psychotherapeutic simulator to undo trauma and triggering memories for the users! That's exactly why we used it on the Remnants of Despair!

.....Okay Auntie, let's play a little game here.

Let's say for instance, the Remnants of Despair weren't brainwashed. And that Big Sis Junko just merely...talked them into becoming the big bad terrorists you know them as today. Would you still use the program for them anyway?

Well....yes, but-

But why? They're not under some mind control or order from others. They would be fully cognizant of their actions. Morals and all. There'd be no way to know for certain what those guys would be thinking.

To that end, let's go further. Who would you use this on? Serial killers? Predators? Embezzlers? Gang members? Other terrorists? Where does it end?

You'd be replacing other people's already preconception of ideals and making them have new ones to better fit your image! See? Brainwashing! Plain and simple~

They have a term for this sort of thing. I think it's called...Death of Personality.

And I get a feeling, you'd want to use this on me too, huh? Riiiiiight?

Wh-What?!

Mhmm, mhmm!~ That's why you're so adamant about getting me on your side. So you can shove me in a pod and make little old Monaca a "proper" little girl. My my, even you want to use Monaca too for your own purposes, Auntie!~

Listen to yourself, that is absurd! I...would never....do something like that to you-

So say it.

!

Go ahead. Say you never had the thought. Say you'd tell me everything about my past life, and all about Big Sis Junko in that case. Go on. Lie to my face.

I.....I wouldn't.....

...........

I.....I'd....n-never....

......

.......

........

Uuuuuh-huh! Just what I thought. Adults are all the same! Only interested in what they want and what better suits them!

Monaca: Ahahahahahaha!

[wild-magic-oops]

For the dark urge asks: 1, 19, and 24!

from left to right: Lucas, The Dark Urge, Damien

1. What circumstances led to your Dark Urge becoming their Class/Subclass?

Lucas - I initially played him as a life domain cleric of Tyr because I thought it'd be hilarious and it was! Tho in my latest playthrough I made a hireling out of him as a multi-class gloomstalker rogue which is fitting imo so I might change his class for some fics/ideas etc. But back to the cleric - Lucas woke up with a very acute feeling that he served a god before so he drew the conclusion that he must've been a cleric. And his violent urges felt imposed on him, so he thought that must be a curse of some sort and therefore he must've gotten it because he served a good-aligned god.

My guy was deep in the delulu, but yet partially correct. Still, he didn't know which god he served so he did the good old tested method of guessing, and started with Tyr who looked at this poor confused bhaalspawn who wanted to do good and decided "yeah sure why not". Another option is for Withers to have always been Lucas's deity and for Lucas to just not have realized it and thought it was Tyr instead.

The Dark Urge - he's the default sorcerer class so there was no choosing there. He realized he could do magic and stuck with that. It was a bonus that he could fry people on the spot with said magic. No need to improve upon perfection lmao

Damien - I still haven't 100% decided but since he's a paladin and it's canon that paladin!Durge has broken their oath before, I'm thinking that upon waking up from the pod, even through his amnesia he still could feel the remnants of an oath and that he was wronged in some way. And because of his violent and terrible urges that he very much doesn't like, he decided to go the complete opposite route. So he swore another oath - this time of vengeance.

19. Has your Dark Urge become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?

All my Durges are Galemancers so Gale's their closest companion by far. Aside from him:

Lucas - tried the most to get to know others and give them a chance. He really likes Wyll bc he's a hero and has the whole "do the right thing" going on. But Wyll's also a bit too morally uncompromising which in itself is fine, but Lucas with his urges (and sometimes hubris) felt like he would fuck up at some point and Wyll would not take it well, so their relationship is not as strong as it could've been. He gets along with selunite!Shadowheart as well.

The Dark Urge - He's not super close to anyone aside from Gale tbh. But he does like the good-aligned companions more. And he has the most developed relationship with Jaheira out of all my Durges. He's the only one to admit he's scared of Bhaal to her. I guess from the original companions he gets along the best with Wyll and Lae'zel.

Damien - gets along with Wyll the best. I didn't recruit Karlach this time even tho I like her bc I want to see how something plays out, but for narrative reasons I imagine I did and Damien gets along great with her as well. And since this is the first time I recruited Minthara, he has a funny relationship with her bc they're both vengeance paladins and sometimes he agrees with her and then she says something out of pocket and he's like "no...!" He also respects Lae'zel once she's seen through her indoctrination and wants to fix the system for her people.

24. Does your Dark Urge have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special? If no, how do they feel about item sentimentality in general?

That would be a no for all my Durges. In terms of sentimentality - Lucas is the most santimental when it comes to objects, followed by The Dark Urge. Damien is the least by far.

[mandomaterial]

Forgotten pt.3

Pairing: Tonowari x Metkayina!Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentioned pregnancy, no fluff

Notes: OOoofff, im publishing this at 2 am. TwT im so dead. But anyway… do u guys think that Tonowari should find out? Cus i kinda don’t wanna tell him tbh… what else should happen? Pls leave a comment- i need more ideas. :3 pic not mine, credit to the owner!

Masterlist /// Previous /// Next

Birds chirped, the sun warming their feathers as they sang together with the gentle sound of the ocean. Small rays of sun snuck through the gaps in the marui and hit the Olo'eyktan's face. Waking up like this was truly peaceful and relaxing.

Tonowari's eyes flickered open, as he reached out to his mate, he was met with nothing but empty space. He rolled over and continued feeling around for you but was met with nothing. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes to clear away the last remnants of sleep. His eyes cracked open, squinting whilst adjusting to the light, and looking around. He was alone in the pod so he decided to check on his kids. Their tent was connected to his with a flap, which he opened slightly to peek inside. There they were, each sleeping on their beds, calmly.

Everything was calm; too calm. Suddenly everything ruched back to him; all the horrid memories of the past day. The reality of his situation crashed down on him like a wave, and his heart sank. His beloved had been taken from him.

He stumbled back to your shared sleeping mat, sitting down and reaching for your pillow, bringing it up to his nose, and inhaling your scent. Normally you’d never use it, choosing to sleep in his arms instead, so it wasn’t as potent. But he’d recognize your scent anywhere, the smell of the ocean foam mixed with herbs and medicine, a hint of sweetness and warmth, it truly calmed him down.

He looked around the room, and his eyes fell on his wife's belongings scattered around the room. Scanning the room, everything reminded him of you. The small trinkets you had collected over the years, your most recent weaving projects, and clothes. But something caught his eye, a small box that he was unfamiliar with was hidden under a small pile of material.

He shuffled over to it, picking it up and inspecting it. It was made of mother of pearl, beautifully decorated with small teal stones, and clearly delicately handcrafted. Carefully swiping his thumb over the top he admired it. Then he slowly opened the lid and it revealed a small toy. With nimble fingers, he took it out and set the box down simultaneously. What he held in his hand seemed to be a small doll, it resembled an ilu, that was unfinished, the pattern on its back suddenly stopping.

He felt the softness of the fabric and the smoothness of the stuffing. He noticed the intricate stitching that his mate had put into it, and the care you had taken to make sure that every detail was perfect. As he held the stuffed animal he felt a sense of comfort wash over him, a sense of familiarity that reminded him of you. You loved making toys, whether they were for your own children or the newborns of the tribe, your small fingers working the fabrics into adorable animals with such skill and precision, that he could only admire. Tonowari stroked the ilu’s head softly, the toy being barely bigger than his hand.

Tonowari closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He thought of his you and the love you had poured into making the toy. He could almost picture you sitting on the floor, stitching away with a smile on your face, completely absorbed in your work. It brought sadness to his heart.

Oh, how he wished he could turn back time, he would have forbidden you to follow him into the battle; he would have locked you in the marui to keep you safe. But he knew that he couldn't change the past. All he could do was hold onto the memories and cherish the small things that reminded him of his mate. He clutched the little ilu tightly in his hands, feeling a sense of comfort in its softness. He put it back into its box and placed it back where he found it.

Taking a deep breath he got ready for the day. He had to tell his people what happened; they deserved to know. A step away from leaving his pod, a thought shot through his mind. He had to find something before leaving. Carefully looking through your stuff he was searching for something with a newfound urgency, having to have a piece of you with him. He finally found it.

Your song cord. The string was a gentle mix of blue and green, similar to his son’s, some of the beads resembled his daughter’s, a few pearls and small shells. Tonowari traced the charms until he came to his favorite one; a piece of crystal clear polished crystal that he gifted you. It marked the day that the two of you mated; marking the beginning of a new chapter of your now-shared lives.

He wrapped the cord across the piece of leather that crossed his heart, wanting to keep you close. Tonowari finally felt ready to leave the calm atmosphere of your home. And so he did.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He called for a tribe meeting; almost everyone gathered in the communal marui. Silence filled the room when Tonowari entered, Ronal following behind him, sitting at his designated spot where everyone could see him.

Taking a look at his audience he spoke “Last night we faced a horrible battle, although none of us were injured someone did leave us.” Once heard the people started wondering and murmuring “Our beloved Tsahìk has been taken by the sky people” This sent a wave of shock through the crowd. Gasps and sounds of horror were uttered. “I will send out troops in search of her, but for now Ronal will temporarily take her place as Tsahìk. Please come to her if need of guidance or medicine.” Tonowari looked over to Ronal, whose face only reflected sadness and grief. She gave a nod to the people, confirming what the Olo'eyktan had just said but not uttering a single word. “We will hold a ceremony by the cove of the ancestors, to commemorate and pray for her return” Tonowari was clenching his fists as he searched the crowd for the Sully family. Once he found them he held eye contact with Jake. He could see the guilt that plagued his mind, for all he was the reason the sky people came to the reef, but Tonowari wouldn’t blame this on him but he was going to have a talk with him about where the daemons rested.

The Olo'eyktan adjourned the meeting and everyone went back to their tasks as he walked up to Jake and Neytiri. The two of the greeted him by raising their hand to their forehead and lowering it again, he returned the greeting “Jake, we must discuss the situation further. Follow me to a more private Marui” He led them to a smaller marui, but not his own. He wouldn’t be able to stay focused, with all of your things surrounding him.

Tonowari sat down across from Jake and his mate and he felt a twinge in his heart as Neytiri clung to her mate’s arm for comfort. Together they started planning and discussing their options for finding you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As soon as Ronal stepped into the Tsahìk pod, she could feel memories rushing back to her. The woven floor was worn out, from so many people entering every day, baskets upon baskets of herbs and medical remedies were stacked against the wall. She was familiar with almost everything in the room. After all, she had spent years here with you, both training as tsakarem.

Ronal stepped inside to look for a few of your Tsahìk tools, that she could borrow for the time being. As she looked through the baskets, her mind drifted back to a time when she and her sister would spend hours practicing healing techniques together, having fun, and trying new things. You had been teenagers then, eager to learn and eager to help your community.

Remembering her favorite moments with you brought a smile to her face, whilst rummaging through everything, trying to organize it again. You never really had a system with how and where you kept your things. But somehow you always knew where everything was when you needed it. As she was rearranging it was almost as if Ronal could feel your presence next to her, even though she was no longer there. She could feel the memory of her sister's touch, helping the wounded warriors, together.

Once she was satisfied with the placement of everything she remembered why she came here in the first place; she needed your tools. But even as she looked over everything again, she couldn’t even find your bag. Where could it be? She closed her eyes and thought about it for a second until the idea of everything being in your personal pod popped into her head. Sighing, she rose from the ground and strode over to the familiar marui, greeting those who walked past her on the way.

She announced that he was entering, only to find it empty. The pod still reeked of you, your things everywhere. Ronal couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she thought of her missing sister.

Crouching down, she looked over your things; quickly finding your Tsahìk bag and different knives. She was about to leave when something shiny caught her eye; she didn’t mean to be nosy but she just had to check what it was. Reaching over, she lifted the sewing materials, finding a box. A very beautiful box, made out of mother of pearl; the same box Tonowari noticed earlier.

She admired the box, turning it in her hands. It looked like the ones you had made in the past for your two children, once you found out that you were with child. Carefully lifting the lid, she peered inside; a little stuffed toy looked back at her. A little ilu.

Her hand wrapped itself around the toy, lifting it out of the box and into her lap, carefully touching the different materials. She had seen you do this before. You always made a toy for the newborns of the clan. Why were you making another? As far as she knew, no one was expecting a child. Unless…

She gasped in shock as she remembered a conversation you had with her a week before the battle. You had told her that you’d been feeling unwell, unsure of the reason you wanted to talk about the possibilities. For every time that you had been sick, your sister had taken over the healing pod. You talked about how your body felt different, but not unfamiliar. Something had changed inside you and you wanted to find out what. Ronal had assured you that it wouldn’t be anything too serious and that she would help you check in the next few days.

Everything seemed to line up now. But could it be? Could you be with child again? Ronal didn’t know what to do with this information. It could all have been a coincidence but she was almost sure that it wasn’t. You had made the pretty box, the toy and you had symptoms of pregnancy. In any other case, Ronal would have been overjoyed with this news, but you weren’t home, you weren’t in a safe place, you had no support, and you were all alone; with the enemy. She didn’t even want to think of all the horrible scenarios that were possible now. What would they do to you? What would they do when they found out that you were with child?

Ronal started tearing up as she packed away the toy. She didn’t know if she should share this newfound information. How would Tonowari react? He was already consumed with guilt that you had been taken. What would happen when he found out that you were carrying his child? Thoughts swarmed her head as she tried to settle on a solution. At least for now, she would not tell him. She had no right to tell him; it would only push him into more grief and she wasn’t even sure that she was right.

For now, she could only pray to Eywa.