#his reinvention of himself is so inspiring

[egophiliac]

happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!

thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!

I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)

I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!

also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...

...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 6 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 6 spoilers #this is my blog and i'm going to write a million words about lilia and you can't stop me #but anyway i do genuinely get the impression that he's using Pretending to Be a Teenager as a chance to be even sillier than usual #he's a very silly man he's just being EXTRA silly #supported by his recent birthday card where he says he was specifically trying to cast himself as an adorable little brother-type #because he wanted the other students to give him free shit and save him seats and things like that #it worked for about a week before he turned out to be way too good at stuff and everyone just kind of ended up in awe of him instead #and he was like DANGIT. I'VE RUINED IT FOR MYSELF. #(then he and epel went on to talk about their hypothetical vtubersonas because the birthday cards are INSANE but anyway) #i'm bad at headcanons :( sorry! #unless it's dumb things like...what pokemon they would have or whatever #(malleus would have some kind of special fancy-colored dragapult) (but i digress) #i have a hard time putting things into words. just know that i love the grampa bat and his weird kids very much. #my brain is also still kind of fried from the last couple of weeks #i am however starting 2024 off the way i intend to continue it: in deep contemplation of anime hair #(sorry if these look weirdly aliased) (i realized about 3/4 of the way through i was using the wrong brush and i didn't want to restart :U)

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Introducing…

‘DINO’-tello

BIG THANK U to anixolt on twitter for accepting this commission request!!! I'm so excited to share this 'Future' Donatello with you all!

Set in an alternate reality, Donnie & his brothers go back in time to the cretaceous period to stop a cataclysmic event. However, in doing so, the four brothers get stuck in the past and live among the dinosaurs.

[link to twitter thread]

(Note! Permission to post my commission on tumblr was given by artist via Twitter!)

More lore below!

Because the Ooze was designed to make super soldier mutants, it helps its host adapt to the conditions around them. After a few years, it started to double-mutate him to adapt to his new harsh environment, making him very raptor-like.

Because of his double mutation and trauma of past events, Donnie is at risk of going into a feral “Savage” mode like Raph

Has two modes— ���Hunter’ and ‘Scientist/Alchemist’

While hunting Donatello relies on his instincts. Becomes very aggressive and territorial.

He uses a ankylosaurus skull and other dinosaur parts as his battle shell and protective gear while hunting

When he isn’t hunting, Donnie is trying to reinvent necessities to make living in a prehistoric era a bit easier with what materials are available to him

Whatever he doesn’t have, he’ll make. From scratch.

Dino-Tello’s concept was inspired by a similar 2003 TMNT episode where they go to the past, 2003 Leatherhead, Tarzan, and the anime series ‘Dr. Stone’

His concept is meant to emphasize Donnie’s other strengths beyond technology— such as his Superintelligence, his close-combat fighting skills, and ability to communicate with other creatures (as shown in the Todd Scouts episode)

He and his brothers tame a triceratops and name him Zog, who was both a pet and steed

For one reason or another… Donatello is the last turtle standing

However, due to classic Hamato shenanigans— ‘Dino’tello might not find himself alone for too long 👀👀👀

#pastel prattling #non neon void related #finally I can post about this fool #new AU dropping how do we feel #tmnt rise #TMNT rise AU #tmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #ROTTMNT AU #this AU doesn’t have a name yet #but I’ll think of something lol

[mosovi-vian]

And I will stay alive for my future self, so they can one day learn to be kind to who I was as a child. And I will teach them to honor who we used to be, so they can remember the comfort of what once was our untempered flesh and gentle soul. Me and myself are each a fresh wound and a rough scab, bearing respectively the gift of green faith and honed will.

This has been in my draft for a while because I was determined to post this only after I knew what I should write underneath it. I’ve read a lot on the concept of healing the wounded inner child since even before my c-ptsd diagnosis. However, I’ve sought as much comfort in my little self as they had in me. Looking back, I was an impressively emotionally-intuitive kid. I remember well how I used to think, the things I would write to my future self; they were wiser and gentler than I could ever hope to be as an adult. Needless to say, the little poem above is inspired by the aforementioned experience. Sure, big me is armed with a more developed pre-frontal cortex and access to invaluable resources (coping mechanisms, therapy, on and offline communities) , but I struggle to rediscover/reinvent my identity. Little me was the biggest vestige of my lost personhood. So yeah, this might be just a huge self-indulgent projection with my favorite character, but thinking that post-S3 Hunter would also be in my shoes is not completely baseless. 16yrs old Hunter is the fresh wound (a lot of things happened before his teen years, but I’m going to interpret the events of Hollow Mind - which happened when Hunter was 16 - as the ultimate boiling point in his trauma timeline, hence the ‘fresh wound') and 20yrs old Hunter is the rough scab. Each version of Hunter could be dealing with a different set of trauma-induced symptoms. I think his loyalty to Belos kept him going as a child. Being doubtless was important to Hunter back then; it held his sense of self together. And maybe when he survived and was rewarded the time and space to grow into his own person and live for himself, there was this lasting emptiness. I feel this sort of emptiness even today. My only reference of what ‘wholeness’ felt like was when I was obedient to my family. I equated self-abandonment as the righteous norm. The symptoms I deal with today are definitely different from when I was Hunter’s age pre-time-skip. Now that Hunter is in a safe space and an adult post-time skip, he might also need to seek that strength from his younger self. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and the parts of him that he'd like to keep from his past. The parts that he knows in his bones are purely his - not instilled by Belos, not inherited from Caleb.

#the two pic look so different lol they were completed with a month in between them #if you actually read the whole thing #thank you means a lot #i hope it made some sense- i rarely put into words these sort of thoughts so im kinda all over the place #hunter toh #hunter noceda #the owl house #the owl house season 3 #toh season 3 #toh #toh hunter #toh s3 #toh s3e1 #toh s3e2 #for the future #thanks to them #toh spoilers #cw: abuse #cw: trauma #hunter deamonne #toh s3ep3 #watching and dreaming #the owl house spoilers #owl house #thank you dana #toh literally saved and changed my life

[babygirlhouse]

house md 2024 headcanons 🫡

hi loves!! jumping on this trend :^) i don't think any of these make sense but they made me laugh soooo here u go

House has a very bad pain day and (when pushed) says that he strained the muscle while riding his bike. Obviously nobody believes him, so the ducklings + Wilson spend the day trying to figure out what he did and end up finding security footage of him attempting to hit the griddy in the morgue 

Kutner has a very generic inspirational quotes tumblr blog (he’s so proud of it) and House finds it and just starts dropping quotes from it in DDXs to mess with him & then acting all innocent 

Thirteen has a secret thirst trap tiktok acc that doesn’t explicitly show her face but has her lab coat & maybe stethoscope. When Chase suggests that it’s her she doesn’t confirm or deny it and just keeps winking. Cameron definitely follows the account after this. Thirteen pretends not to realise.

Wilson takes a uquiz to find out what sort of cheese he is and is devastated when it says he’s cheddar. He then has an identity crisis because he thinks he’s too bland and tries to reinvent his aesthetic, leading to one infected eyebrow piercing and a tramp stamp that’s never mentioned again. Potential there for a sappy scene where House tells him he's anything but bland.

Cuddy starts a momblog style podcast. House sends anonymous hate. Taub guest stars. 

I think Taub would get deeply into ASMR. Like it’d start with him finding and playing a video of ASMR triggers for his daughters, then he tries it himself to see if that calms them down even more, etc etc. He starts a youtube channel and it blows up. He gets recognised by patients at the hospital. It goes to his head just a little. He unironically uses the term 'ASMRtist'

A cosplayer has a mysterious illness and the team has to go to a convention to test for environmental factors. Chase is apprehensive but House forces him to go. He’s quickly recognised at the convention and it turns out that he has a cosplay instagram account and they get stopped every 10 mins to take pictures. No one lets him live it down 

Thirteen and Cameron kiss & fall in love & babysit Taub's kids. House makes relentless jokes but is quietly very fond of them and their relationship. Pls i need this

Foreman has a twitter/X account where he posts a combination of work out tips/inspirational quotes (not as sweet as Kutner's blog, more grindset vibes yknow) but he gets mixed up in a pyramid scheme for protein powders and gets cancelled. Also potential for a sappy scene here where Foreman says he admires Kutner for not letting House's teasing about his blog get to him. They're besties now and make each other better.

Cuddy forces all of them to go on a wellness retreat. House and Wilson make a bet to see who can go the longest without speaking. It's not even a silent retreat, they're just like that. Also someone convinces Chase that the utility shed on the retreat is haunted.

The wellness retreat no speaking bet also def has potential for gay chicken. Like Wilson kisses House to see if that will get him to lose the bet. By the next morning neither of them know or care who lost the bet, they leave their room looking Extremely disheveled and return to the hospital very much together. Cuddy is not at all surprised. She planned this. Each of the ducklings hand her $100.

PPTH minecraft server. yeah

#im so tired #i have an assessment due in 6 days #time to speed read all of inferno #house md #gregory house #headcanon #hatecrimes md #house md headcanons #hilson #mouse bites #james wilson

[brother-emperors]

a rejected idea from the Second Triumvirate novel I keep writing

at one point, I wanted Antony's rescue of Octavian to mirror the execution of Antyllus but the event that inspired the whole idea (as recorded by Appian) is too fun for that kind of wholesale reinvention

Octavian with his friends and a few attendants came into the forum intending to intercede with the people and to show the unreasonableness of their complaints. As soon as he made his appearance they stoned him unmerci­fully, and they were not ashamed when they saw him enduring this treatment patiently, and offering himself to it, and even bleeding from wounds. When Antony learned what was going on he came with haste to his assistance. When the people saw him coming down the Via Sacra they did not throw stones at him, since he was in favour of a treaty with Pompeius, but they told him to go away. When he refused to do so they stoned him also. He called in a larger force of troops, who were outside the walls. As the people would not allow him even so to pass through, the soldiers divided right and left on either side of the street and the forum, and made their attack from the narrow lane, striking down those whom they met. The people could no longer find ready escape on account of the crowd, nor was there any way out of the forum. There was a scene of slaughter and wounds, while shrieks and groans sounded from the housetops. Antony made his way into the forum with difficulty, and snatched Octavian from the most manifest danger, in which he then was, and brought him safe to his house.

Appian, Civil War, 5.68

HOWEVER. I am DEEPLY enamored by the idea of Antony showing up as a rescuer but for a brief moment looks like such a threat (along with horrible foreshadowing visuals) that I decided to memorialize the original idea as an illustration before I throw it out and get to rewriting it (I’ll probably keep some version of the original thought in for a good old fashioned nightmare dream sequence tho)

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

#im going to adapt appian 5.68 into a comic for sure tho. antony pulling octavian up and going 'oh. they got your face #shame! its one of the few things i actually like about you.' #octavian #mark antony #komiks tag #roman empire tag #drawing tag

[noneorother]

Oh my god, season 2 is The Tales of Crowley Hoffmann

I guess this has to be a series now too. Part 1 l Part 2

When Aziraphale wants to perform a show-stopping magic trick in S2E4, he is shown the "Professor's Nightmare," a rope trick, and references "Prof Hoff himself" at the end of the minisode.

Because we love double meanings so much around here, I decided to actually watch the Powell & Pressburger epic opera film "The Tales of Hoffmann," assuming it was the another P&P easter egg and the other Hoffmann (not the magician) that was being referenced.

One, this movie is unhinged. Two, this season IS The Tales of Hoffmann. Allow me to explain...

There are shot for shot quotes literally everywhere throughout the season.

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Hoffmann watches Stella perform) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Clerk in Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia, Hoffman & Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Crowley & Aziraphale"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Giulietta Banquet scene) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Banquet scene" *By the way Hoffmann wears a goatee for this tale

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue "Dragonfly dance") & Good Omens Season 2 Prologue "Before the Beginning" *This is Stella and un unknown devil drangonfly, NOT Hoffmann

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (End credits through Hoffman's glasses) & Good Omens Season 2 end credit scene.

Stella & Aziraphale. This one makes me laugh.

There are SO MANY MORE, but tumblr has an image limit. Seriously, it's nuts.

2. It seems simple and straightforward, but it's not at all

" Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (...) was in some way an admission(...) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film, combining visual and musical elements, that it has still not been fully appreciated... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made. What makes the film so remarkable is a series of paradoxes: the fact that it virtually reinvented the freedom and fantasy of silent cinema while making full use of Technicolor and a stellar cast of dancers and singers..." - Criterion, The lives of marionettes

3. The structure of the story is the same as the show

Here is the story of the Movie** (Not really the Opera that inspired it) In the prologue, we see the dance of the dragonflies onstage at a ballet. Count Lindoff (very bad dude) is spying on both the principal dancer Stella, and the audience member Hoffmann (who's admiring her). Lindoff is behind the scenery. During her dance, Stella passes a love note to her assistant for Hoffmann. The bad dude intercepts it out of jealousy. During the intermission, Hoffmann goes down to the tavern next door, watched by his sort of buddy in red, Nicklaus. People ask him to tell stories to while away the time, and so he tells 3 stories (actually four but we'll get back to that).

We launch into 3 tales/minisodes in other times and places : 1. The Tale of the Ball of the Automaton where he falls in love with a robot. He is humiliated. 2. The tale of Venice (Giulietta) where he falls in love with a courtesan/double agent who crosses him. 3. The tale of Antonia, where he falls in love with a girl who feels trapped by her living dad, her dead mom and a mysterious bad dude (Lindoff). She is murdered in a ring of fire, but becomes a ghost and is resurrected and sent back to earth. At the end, we snap back to the tavern in the real world. Hoffmann reveals that these three women are all metaphors for how he feels about Stella, his true love. He's drunk and depressed now, thinking she never sent for him after the show. Stella arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann, ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff. Her assistant (who was bribed by Lindoff at the beginning) is given the go ahead by Lindoff to go back to the tavern and taker over. They close the door to the tavern, while she walks up ethereal stairs with the bad dude. THE END.

The one story that doesn't fit into the minisodes and is told in the real world is Kleinzach. We understand by the end of this one that this is Hoffmann's self loathing about never being good enough for Stella, because Stella is perfect and Hoffmann is ugly and deformed. The main love interest attempts to steal Kleinzach's essence through a mirror by the end. 4. Powell & Pressburger recast four actors in new roles In The Tales of Hoffmann, P&P decided to recast four of the principal actors/dancers from the film The Red Shoes in new roles, wanting to recreate the magic that they brought to the first ballet film. Sound familiar?

5. Crowley is Hoffmann

"The Tales of Hoffmann" original 1881 costume concept for Hoffmann & Crowley costume sketch for S2E3 1827 Edinburgh. Glasses are a really important aspect for Hoffmann in both the opera and the movie versions of The Tales of Hoffmann. Hoffmann is gifted metaphorical magic glasses that he wears to be able to perceive his love in a way they aren't really in real life. In the opera, he wears dark glasses to shut out the real world, not just as a metaphor. Check out a modern day version of the opera's Hoffmann costume :

He's french and slamming a beer but you get it. Crowley also canonically loves watching movies. It would make so much sense that his minisode recountings with him and Aziraphale would resemble different styles of movie that he loves. Seeing as we see him drive away at the end as the last character, an argument could be made for him being the ultimate narrator of the story in season 2.

6. The original American release of The Tales of Hoffman had 14ish minutes cut out of it by the studio. So we all know by now that whole debacle about having the clocks jump 14-15ish minutes during the kiss?

"The Tales of Hoffmann found an audience far wider than expected, despite Korda’s misgivings about the movie’s running time and his decision to cut 14 minutes out of the film for its American release." - Criterion, The Tales of Hoffman

I have been unable to unearth what the difference between the American & British versions of the P&P Tales of Hoffmann is, if you know let ME know. I want to know! _____________________________________

And I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. This is long enough already so I'll save the more detailed stuff for a new post.

**The opera is a whole other beast. You can read about it here, but basically there's a lot more going on in the opera because the composer died before finishing it, and multiple versions exist after the original uncompleted score got lost IN A FIRE. Anyway. Here's part 2

#good omens meta #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #go2 #crowley x aziraphale #anthony j crowley #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley and aziraphale

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

#steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #st4 #steve and eddie #Robin buckley #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates Stobin #stranger things au #modern au #rockstar Eddie munson #pop star Steve harrington #And yes in my head they fall in love #and robin falls in love with CC manager Chrissy Cunningham shhhhhh #corroded coffin

[teyamsatan]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟙 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕦

pairing: Neteyam x f!Human/Avatar Reader

warnings: angst, tragic love trope, the one that got away trope, some fluff, all the feels

wc: 7k words

a/n: surprise??? besties it's been too long, i know, but i hope you enjoy chapter 2 of the 1 x anyone who follows me knows how much this story means to me, and it felt so good to be able to visit it and be inspired for it again. i promise it will absolutely not be as long between this chapter and the next x i can't wait to hear your thoughts! i love you x

to clarify: this series will be following oceans and engines mostly, but both endings will make and appearance and play a part in this story x smooches x

♥ series masterlist ♥ cruel summer ♥ series playlist ♥ masterlist

Honey, when I’m above the trees, I see this for what it is But now I’m right down in it, All the years I’ve given Is just shit we’re dividing up

Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle as his gaze fell onto your unconscious form, splayed limbs over your head and over the edge of the bed, peaceful look on your face as deep slumber still washed over you, even as eclipse has been gone for quite a while. He made his way to the window, where the blinds were drawn, pulled them apart, and watched in shock as that didn’t even begin to wake you. You and Neteyam shared a lot of traits, a lot of similarities bound you together, but your sleeping habits were definitely not one of them.

Amused, he decided to take a different approach, as he got on top of you and started trailing small, peppered kisses over your chest and neck, over your jaw and face, until eventually your eyes fluttered open and widened momentarily as you adjusted to the unexpected scene, until they melted in the mischievous, loving gaze Neteyam knew so well and loved so much.

“This is one way to wake up, I suppose.”

“A good way?”

Your lips met in a kiss, soft and intimate, not at all resembling the boundaries both of you were supposed to abide by, and right in this moment, it didn’t seem either of you particularly cared.

“The best way.”

You thought about it for a second longer, then pursed your lips in mock deliberation.

“Actually, there was another time you woke me up in an even more… pleasurable way, and I can’t say I’d object if you ever wanted to do that again.”

The memory of that morning made blood travel down south as quickly as it took for you to say the words, and he growled in your neck as his canines grazed it, as he watched you shudder under him, as he smelled your sweet aroma filling up the air he breathed.

“Vol, you have to stop talking if you want to get out of this room today.”

Neteyam could hear the smirk in your voice as you spoke.

“Who says I want to get out of this room today?”

“I do, because I want to show you something.”

Showed you all of my hiding spots I was dancing when the music stopped And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention I haven’t met the new me yet

Neteyam watched the door of your bathroom, intently listening for the constant hum of the shower to see if he could hear you, as if maybe by listening closely enough, he would be able to have a direct stream into your thoughts, the way it felt like he used to back when you were you and he was him and you were… well, whatever you were to each other. He probably shouldn’t have drank as much as he did - not enough to be fully intoxicated, but enough to know the filter between his mouth and brain was shaky at best, completely gone at worst, and very little good could come out of it. He knew all of that and yet, here he was, unable to stop his feet from moving to the labs, as soon as he felt like he could do so without attracting attention to himself. It was late, and most people were off to bed, so it wasn’t hard to do, even in this small settlement deep in the mountains the Omaticaya were forced to now call home.

When it became clear your thoughts would never make themselves known through the wall, his eyes wandered around, taking in every nook and cranny of this room that was an exact replica of the one you lived in all your life back in Hell’s Gate. He appreciated the humans for how much they cared for you, how much they were intent on making this little corner of the planet as homely for you as humanly possible. This room was loved and lived in; there were stains on the desk, crinkles on the chair, cracks in the walls… there were books and record players, pillows and comforters, plushies and knick knacks that Neteyam knew by heart, that screamed of you and the life you lived, that although not what you wanted or what you truly deserved, shone brightly all around you and illuminated even the darkest corners of the world.

Something caught the corner of his eyes, one of the few things he’s never seen before. A box, hidden deep in the corner beneath your desk, with a neat little label on it that said simply “Neteyam’s box. Do not open!”. If it was any other day, or any other circumstance, if his mind wasn’t clouded with the heady concoction that was way stronger than he remembered and probably the reason humans were as mindless as they were to begin with, he would have heeded the warning clearly showcased on the rectangular enclosure. But it was today, and it was these circumstances and he was intoxicated, so without dwelling on all the reasons he probably shouldn’t, he found himself reaching for it.

It was tiny in his hands, so tiny, it was hard to understand that something this small and this seemingly harmless could knock the breath out of his lungs with enough power to overcome and vanquish whatever self-control he still possessed. So many memories, all fighting for dominion over his consciousness, all painful enough to open every stitch his body’s been working so hard to craft in order to heal him. One memory in particular clearly won, one that’s already been percolating in his mind today, but now was all he could think of anymore. The keepsake he associated with it was missing from the box, which ironically made it stand out even more.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true There is happiness

“Mmm.. intrigue. The Omaticayan prince wants to show me something, I guess I have to oblige then.” At the roll of his eyes, you laugh and pull him by the back of the neck until your lips meet again. In these moments, it was easy to forget the reality of your circumstances, the impossibility of your relationship, the hidden aspect to it that made it so no one would ever be allowed to find out.

It’s only been a couple of months since your 19th birthday, and somehow, each day got better. Each day was a reminder that he was the best person that has ever lived, the man of your dreams, the most empathetic, unintentionally charismatic, intelligent, funniest, most beautiful person you knew… each day a dream, until the inevitable forced wake-up call that he’ll never be yours, as soon as you had to pretend in the village, in Hell’s Gate, as you had to watch the matriarchs search for an appropriate mate for him and know there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He wasn't yours to lose. Not in the way you wanted him to be, not in the way you needed him to be. You tried to push the ugly thoughts from your mind as you felt him burying his head in your neck, just breathing you in. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. No matter what happened, no one would ever know him like you did, no one would ever be able to understand every nook and cranny of his soul the way you were able to. No matter what happened, he was yours right now. While you still had this, he will always be yours. While you could feel his heartbeat in your chest as he lay on top of you, while your body was moulded by his own and your lips knew to recite each one of his freckles like a prayer, he’ll always be yours.

“You’re not as cute as you think you are, you know?” You snicker at his words, that you may believe if it wasn’t for the way he was almost purring under your touch, or the way he was fully sunk into your body, or the way you could tell he was smiling as he said them.

“Ha! 18 years of you falling for my every whim suggests otherwise, Teyam. Now scoot, if you want me to get ready.”

“So where are we going?” fastening your oxygen mask until it clicked, you made your way out of the living headquarters and were taken aback to see Seze waiting, her soft trills greeting you as she approached, her big frame almost knocking you down as she bumped her snout into your face. “Hey, girl. What are you doing here?”

You yelped slightly as Neteyam took you by the armpits and lifted you so you could mount the banshee easier, before getting on behind you and making tsaheylu, an arm fastened across your chest, pulling you tightly into his own, keeping you close to him. You’ve done this so many times in the 6 years since Neteyam passed his Iknimaya, and despite it all, it never stopped feeling magical, and fantastical and wondrous to you, like it was almost unfair that a mere human could experience such emotions and views, such exhilaration and freedom. You wished your whole life you could one day have your own ikran and really experience it the way one was meant to, but you were grateful for whatever moment you did get, and grateful for Neteyam for always being willing to share these things with you.

“You know the drill, ma Vol. You have to ho-“

“-hold onto you like I’ll never let you go again. I know.” This saying, that he said his father told him on his first ikran ride as a child, became almost a mantra in your life, with every moment you spent in his presence.

Hold on like you’ll never let me go again.

Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would’ve loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind

It was painful, the way the hot water was hitting your skin, in droplets that felt like spikes, in touches that felt like stings. Your mind was scattered after the momentous day that tried you, one which you never expected to live through again.

Neteyam… your ‘Teyam… someone else’s Neteyam. Different, so different and yet… still him. Painfully so. You hoped for more, more of a change, more of a departure - you hoped for a stranger, that could allow you to forget that the person you were looking at, despite adorning some new tattoos and a different hairstyle, was the man who knew you, down to the darkest, most intimate corners of your mind. You hoped that when you looked in his eyes, you wouldn’t see the stars be born and die, you wouldn’t see 21 years of your own life and the life you shared looking back at you. You hoped his stripes, that you could still feel on your fingerprints and on your tongue, would have shifted and become muted and dull. But none of that was true. Despite everything that stood against you, despite being worlds, galaxies, universes apart, he was still the same Neteyam. The question nagged at you, unwavering and incessant: were you still the same Vol?

You felt goosebumps appear on your skin as soon as you left the confines of the shower behind. Weird - it wasn’t cold, and yet here you were, near shaking, heartbeat caught in your throat in… anticipation? Fear? It was hard to say, but, with a deep sigh, you fastened your towel and opened the door to your bedroom.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you took in the man sitting on your bed, that was way too big to comfortably fit in your tiny room, not that that’s ever stopped him in all the years you’ve known him. He looked almost out of place here now, so long after the last time, and you winced a little at the contrast between the memories in your mind and what was displayed so clearly in front of you.

“Fuck! Neteyam, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

Neteyam looked lost in thought, almost unaware of your presence or your voice, glossy eyes fixed somewhere beneath your desk, on a specific box you wish he never got to see.

“This room hasn’t changed one bit in all this time. It’s so weird. Everything’s changed…” the sigh that tried him felt like it was expelled from deep within his soul, like a sigh he’s been holding for the last year and a half. “Everything… and yet this room, it’s like a portal to the past, like I woke up in a life that feels like a mere dream sometimes.”

You don’t interrupt his musings.

“The sheets, the books, the smell, the way the light flickers sometimes, the way the mattress dips on one side more than the other because you’ve always preferred the left side of the bed, and I always had to sleep on the right, even the broken vase I broke with my tail the night I left. It’s all the same.”

His gaze finally settles on you. He looks pained as he sees you, finally the human he remembers, that he loved. It hurts him being in this room. It hurts you, too. It was your turn to sigh, as you tried to remove the images of the past flashing in front of your eyes like a picture book, and tried to focus on the reality that was still weighing heavily on your heart, no matter how many counterweights you balanced it with.

Your sigh matched his earlier one as you spoke, your eyes darting to the room that you spent less time in with each passing day, that felt as much of a relic of the past as you sometimes felt in his life.

“Yeah. I guess nothing’s changed.”

Tell me, when did your winning smile Begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

He notices an ornate bow by the foot of the bed, clearly the make of a talented Omaticayan warrior. It annoys him to no end that he can recognise the work easily, having grown up seeing it, having been one of the few that could compare to his. It angers him further just how much the disdain doesn’t seem to want to melt away, regardless of how much he’s told himself to let it go, regardless of how he swore the reason he came here tonight had nothing to do with it. He had no right to pry, not anymore. No right to be jealous… not anymore.

“Well, at least some things have changed…”

You blush, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to start patting your cheeks, that feel like they caught fire.

“Tarsem made it for me. It’s cute.” You didn’t know why, it’s not like you owed him anything, but you couldn’t help the next words, that stumbled unceremoniously out of your mouth in a panicked hurry. You didn’t owe him anything, but you still needed him to know. “And platonic.”

“Yeah, so were we.” The words, and the bitterness in them, so thinly veiled despite what you assumed were his best efforts, shocked you. This wasn’t like Neteyam at all - Neteyam was kind, and careful with his words always, he was considerate and empathetic, and he was never mean, especially not to you. Especially not like this.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and the tears that threatened to spill, leaving his words to hang in the air, making it thick and heavy with heightened emotions you were both trying your best to suppress.

“That’s not fair.”

Another sigh.

“You’re right. It’s not.”

I can’t make it go away by making you a villain I guess it’s the price I pay for seven years in heaven And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties

“Are you drunk?” One exhale was enough for the stench of bourbon to hit you like a truck, and all of a sudden, it was clear enough - why he was here, why he was saying these things, why it felt like all the bitterness in his soul, that you assume has been as deeply buried as your own, was coming out in unsightly manners, and you were the one who had to stomach it. You forget, sometimes, it was easy to - that Neteyam suffered as much as you, that he lost just as much as you did, that dreaded July 9th.

When your question was met with silence, you continued.

“Why are you here, Neteyam?”

“I came to see you. The real you. At least while I still get the chance.” His gaze hardens looking at your body. He’s yet to look at your face - whether he doesn’t want to or can’t, you can’t tell. “Grandmother tells me you’re going to go for the consciousness transfer.”

You shift uncomfortably in place. His tone was distant and once more not like the one you loved at all.

“We all are. It’s the only way forward.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is.” He scoffs, rolling his beautiful golden eyes, picking a spot on the wall to grimace at.

“I’m not arguing with you on this.”

“Didn’t realise there was anything to argue about.”

“You shouldn’t do it.”

It was your turn to scoff, feeling irate despite your best efforts, despite knowing it was the alcohol talking, despite knowing you should tell him to leave, that nothing productive could possibly come out of this. There was anger in you, you realise - bubbling just beneath the surface, anger you’ve buried so deep, you didn’t even know it was nestled in your soul like a parasite, looming in latency, until it was time to come to light.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” his glare was harsh as it snapped to finally look at you, melting a little when his eyes found yours, the ones he's loved his whole entire life.

“Oh, I see we’re being mature. I’m doing this, we all are. It’s the only way. End of discussion, Neteyam.”

“… you could die.”

Your eyes widen. There's tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat. You sigh, placated a little by the realisation that all of this, although it could have been done better, was just his way of telling you he’s worried about you. You’re grateful, so grateful, that he still is - worried, that is. Your voice softens a little as you say the next words.

“Or I could finally live.”

“Why take the chance, it makes no sense. Just stay as an Avatar.”

“No. I will never fully live in either of these bodies unless I give one up. I’ve made my decision.”

“It’s a stupid decision. It’s a rash decision.”

“Rash? Are you serious? I’ve had 21 years to make this decision, Neteyam. Twenty-one years of feeling like an outcast, like an alien - of feeling like there’s no place for me in this world. I can finally be one of the people, I can finally have a purpose, and you want me to give that up?”

There was more, so much more - it was a complicated decision, the one you took, and so much thought has gone into it, so many sleepless nights went into this… but how could you say that to him? How can you tell him that he’s part of the reason you need to do this, that you need to be rid of this body, the body he’s known and he’s touched, the body that memorised every ounce of him by heart, that still felt phantom pains from the lack of his fingers on your skin? How can you tell him you will never be free until the body he knew and loved so intimately is gone… forever?

“I hate this body, Neteyam. I hate it. This body is useless, and weak. I have nothing in this body, I lost everything because of it. Everything… You have no fucking idea what it’s like. What any of this is like.” You urged him silently, pleading for him to understand. To stop asking you questions that would dig up a grave long dug and settled, that should remain untouched, that he was unwittingly desecrating. You were scared of what would come out when he did.

“And who does? Tarsem?”

“What?” You couldn’t believe your ears, the spiteful words coming out of Neteyam’s mouth like they were nothing, like it meant nothing when it hurt and burned and ached, when the seams with which you’ve become so acquainted starting splitting with every syllable uttered, when the anger that has been bubbling up in your chest for years, that you didn’t even know you still held onto was threatening to spill and poison this room and all its inhabitants.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you actually saying these words out loud? I can’t believe you, Neteyam. So this is what this whole thing is about, huh? You came all this way and act like you’re worried about my safety, about the transfer, when the whole time you were just jealous of Tarsem? Jealous about something that’s not even there? He’s a friend, Neteyam. A friend.”

You’re both shouting at each other, screaming and hoping that will alleviate the pain, that will push the tears back in your tear ducts and not let them spill all over your face. You’re panting, the hurt burning holes in your chest, the anger cauterising them and making you push forward, for another blow, and then another… and then another.

“Wake up, Vol! Are you blind?! He wants you, he wants you to be the next Tsa’hik of the Omaticaya. He’s not nice because you’re such a treat to be around. He’s nice because he wants to fuck you!”

Silence. Silence that deafens, that echoes in your eardrums a lot more than the yells, roaring like a crashing waterfall. Silence. No silence can fix this. Nothing can fix this.

“Get out.”

His eyes are pits of guilt and despair, shock and terror at the words he would have never said out loud normally - you knew that. You knew he regretted them as soon as they came out of his mouth, but you didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he made the last night before your iknimaya, a night you were supposed to rest through so you can face whatever was waiting for you tomorrow, a bad memory that will only bitter with time.

“Vol, I -”

“No. Vol nothing. You don’t get to call me that anymore. That nickname was reserved for the child I grew up with, the teenager who looked out for me, the man who loved me - it’s not for you. You don’t get to come back to my life after so long just so you could try to ruin whatever little happiness I’ve managed to scrounge up from the scraps I was left with. Leave.”

“Please…”

“I don’t know what Tarsem’s intentions are. You’re right. Maybe he really does just want to fuck me. But I realised something, all this time apart. You didn’t fight for me. None of you did. You were my family, all I had, and it took you leaving and him becoming Olo’eyktan to realise I’ve never had a family. It took losing everything to see how little I had to begin with. You could have done something. You could have fought it, you could screamed and shouted at the top of your lungs that you loved me, that what we had mattered more than the clan or your duty, mattered more than controllable and comfortable mirage of peace, but you didn’t. You were ashamed of me, of what we did. It wasn’t enough for you, that I was human. You let me go, you watched me leave, I watched you mate with someone else knowing I will carry these wounds for the rest of my life and I did it with no complaints. I understood you, as much as I could, and I let go of the one love I’ve always wanted to hold on to. You didn’t fight for me. So you don’t get to be jealous. Not anymore. It’s not fair to me, or to you, or to the pregnant mate you’ve left at home.” The door was open now, gripped tightly by your aching hand, the tears falling from your faces and onto the ground the only sound to help the torturous silence left behind by your words, so many of them you’ve needed to say, so many of them you wish you never had to. “Go, Neteyam.”

No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him, too

The night was painful and never ending, the conversation pulsating in your ears like a terrible migraine. Why did he come back? You were doing well. Well enough. Why did he have to come and ruin whatever little joy you had? Why now, the night before the most important trial of your life, why now, so you can question and overanalyse every little interaction you and Tarsem ever had in order to prove him wrong, when all your mind can do is scour for reasons why he was right. Was he right?

He was right, wasn’t he? Why else would he be so kind to a demon? Why else would he train you, and accept you? Nobody ever had, not fully. Nobody ever had…

“Damn you, Neteyam.”

Honey, when I’m above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain On the pillow where you used to lay your head

Eventually, sleep did find you. And in it, so did dreams - memories, as they usually did, at your most vulnerable, nothing but your shaky psyche and a desperate desire to relive your happiest times to stand in their way.

“Why did you make Seze land where she did if you’re gonna make me walk so much?”

With a deep sigh, he stopped in his tracks and kneeled, and you smiled knowingly as you jumped on his back, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Eh, you’ve always known this about me, Teyam. And you still love me, anyway. What does that say about you, huh?”

“That I can’t resist a pretty face, especially when it’s yours, my Vol.”

Well, that shut you up. Neteyam could always shut you up like this, by saying things you both knew he shouldn’t say, and while you wanted to admonish him, while you wanted to tell him off because this wasn’t helping, this would never help this already convoluted situationship you found yourself in, you couldn’t. Not when your heart was beating out of your chest, not when your blush was so strong it was making you feel like your cheeks caught fire, not when it made you want to scream confessions that have settled in your chest a while ago, that would never see the light of day, as long as you could help it.

He laughed at your silence, and pushed past thick shrubbery to unveil the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.

“Surprise!”

If your heart hadn’t dampened the rest of the world and all its thunderous sounds, you would have noticed the waterfall crashing into the river below, but as it was, the sight laid bare in front of you was, truly, a surprise, and God… what a surprise it was. A sight almost too good to be true, the beauty of it all almost surreal. The cliff was remote and secluded, surrounded by tall colorful plants and hedges - perfect for activities no one should ever be privy to. The backdrop was something out of a fairy tale, down to the fish jumping from the waterfall and straight into the water below, and the rainbow that formed with every blow of the wind. But somehow, even despite every natural advantage that was so graciously displayed almost as if especially for you, still, the thing that made it all feel almost transcendent was just a simple blanket, woven in a pattern you knew was his own, on top of which sat a basket filled to the brim with your favourite fruits and culinary delicacies.

“You know, Teyam…” you chuckle, still taken aback by the gesture, almost chocked up from the love you felt for him, that ran somehow deeper every day. You wondered if there was end to it all, to how much this love will grow, to how much your heart could possibly hold within itself before bursting at the seams. “I was gonna sleep with you anyway, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

You watched as his head swung backwards as he laughed, nuzzling itself in your belly, his braids tickling your thighs with every inadvertent move. A squeal left your body as his much larger arms reached above him and picked you up, manhandling you like a little doll, until you were on the ground, at the foot of the blanket. He said nothing, but bent down until his lips made contact with the top of your head, the romantic and intimate gesture enough to turn your insides gooey and your brain to mush. His voice was saccharine and velvet smooth when he eventually spoke.

“You look so good - so good - wearing my choker. Now take it all off. I want to see you wear nothing else, my Vol.”

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now Is the green light of forgiveness

The morning was dragging and slow. Your mind was scattered and numb, perfectly complementing your burning eyes and heavy heart. You were angry, and sad, hopeless and forlorn, all of the things you shouldn’t be on the brink of your iknimaya. You needed your focus and your wits, both of which felt as far away as the ikran rookery you were on your way to.

“Ma Tawtute!”

You cringe at the nickname you’ve become fond of in time, that you hated right now, and the voice that spoke it. You try to no avail to leave, but you’re trapped when he catches you by the hand, willing you in place.

“Let go of me, Tarsem.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and tugging at your trapped wrist.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can’t help until I know what it is.”

“Why are you nice to me?” you were angry again, almost eager to be proven right, eager to know for a fact what Neteyam told you was true.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I’m asking. Why? Why are you nice to me? Why do you smile at me, and train me… why are you making the People accept us?

Tarsem looked confused and taken aback at your barrage of questions, at your misplaced anger and your sudden skepticism of his actions. You couldn’t blame him.

“Because… you deserve it. Because if there’s one thing I learnt in time, is that good people, good humans, are hard to come by. And you, and the scientists, Spider… all the people who chose to stay behind in the way so many years ago… you’re it. You are good. You are kind, and knowledgeable, and you have devoted your whole life to the Omaticaya and to this planet, without ever asking for anything in return. The least I can do is make sure you live a life worth remembering, that you receive your well-earned place amongst the People.”

You were so content, so at peace, whenever your head was rested on Neteyam’s chest. You were home in his arms, home when your fingers were free to roam his chest, free to draw the constellations his tanhi made up when connected, free when his breath was fanning over your face with each kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so full.”

“Are you, now?”

“Of food, you freak.”

“Mm, I’m not doing my job well enough then. Guess I just need to try harder.”

You laugh, happiness enveloping like a shroud. You were scared of it, of your next question, but you knew you needed to know.

“Why did you bring me here, Neteyam?”

A shrug. Seemingly nonchalant, but there was purple in his cheeks, a flutter in his heart, loud and booming against your ear.

“It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it reminded me of you. Of us. As soon as I found it, I knew this could be it. Our place.”

“Our place.”

Neteyam’s head throbbed painfully, a nefarious mixture between a hangover and guilt making the world spin and his heart ache. Why? Why did he do that, say that? And before your Iknimaya, too. It was an important day, one of the most important days - important enough to determine the rest of your life within the Omaticaya and he managed to ruin it for you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Norm.

“You look like you need this.” Whatever Norm handed him looked like it had already been eaten and thrown up before making its way into his hands, but he accepted it anyway. Norm knew best, and whatever it was, probably was going to help.

“It smells disgusting.”

“It is disgusting. But it will help. The hangover, that is. Everything else, I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

“Listen… I heard you, in her room last night. It was muffled enough, but the walls can only muffle screams so much, you know?”

“I fucked up, Norm. So badly. I said… horrible things to her last night. I was drunk, and sad… I was stupid and jea-“ He catches himself before he can finish, but it was too late.

“Jealous. You can say it, it’s ok.”

“I know… about you two. She told me. So you don’t have to hide. Not with me.”

Neteyam’s eyes go wide at Norm’s words, but he was relieved that he knew - that someone knew. Someone he could talk to. Someone to confess to.

“She’s right. About everything, she was right. I abandoned her. Over and over. I let my mum treat her and Spider like they were pariahs, and stood by as my dad did nothing about it for years. I always thought that’s just how it was always going to be, that nothing I could have done would have prevented it, but I look at her life now, and how Tarsem treats her, and I realise I was wrong. And they were wrong. And we failed her. So many years, my whole life… I failed her.”

Norm sighs, both of them looking at you, talking to Max, who would also be taking his Iknimaya today, smiling and motioning at how you were planning on subduing your ikran. You were lively and animated, but your eyes didn’t reflect it, and Neteyam hurt at the blame he bore for it.

“Kid… you did your best. You both did. And you loved her, and stood by her, even in the face of everything that stood against you. You didn’t fail her. The world did. The world failed you both.”

You haven’t met the new me yet And I think she’ll give you that

It went by in a blur; in a mess of worry and distress. It’s like he blinked and here you were, the first one to go, the first one to succeed. He was so proud of you, prouder than he’s ever been about anything in this life. His heart was beaming with happiness and love, his head swirling with all the way he’s imagined this day in his mind and thought it would never come, but here it was. He was living through it, and had to come to terms with the fact it was never going to be quite how he envisioned. But he still had you, and he still had today. And at least some of it, he felt, could be the same. In his dreams, you passed, and you shared the first flight, and he got to see you fully blossom, the way you deserved, the way he always knew you would. In his dreams, your ikran intertwined in flight, and you spent so much time exploring, laughing, yelling, living. In his dreams, both your ikran perched at the top of the Hallelujah mountain, trilling softly would be the only witnesses to your love, to the way he’d make sure to not let you go until the second he absolutely had to, until you were both spent, looking upwards at the unending and star-filled sky. He would never get that, but your first flight - he still could. He could still be it.

“First fly seals the bond, kid. You gotta go, now!”

You couldn’t believe it. You actually did it. All the training, and the fantasies, all the nights you spent as a little kid imagining what it would be like to actually fly on top of one, all the days you spent on Neteyam’s, while he told you about the bond, while you shed tears from the pain that came with knowing you would never experience it… they all led you to this. This one moment. Your ikran was beautiful, just like you always pictured her to be. She was cooing happily and moving slowly towards the edge of the cliff, almost as if heeding Jake’s words, or itching to further your newfound connection.

For one second, you look backwards, at all the people clapping and beaming with excitement, and your eyes, as they always seemed to, immediately drifted to Neteyam. They filled with tears at his pride, at the way his body radiated it, at the way he called his ikran, undoubtedly just as excited as you to share a moment you’ve always envisioned in dreams and reveries, one that seemed like a rare occasion by which your fairytale ideal life could come true. But your life wasn’t a fairytale - it would never be, it couldn’t be. And that dream, you had to leave behind. That dream, just like everything did when it came to him, speaks to a love long gone, an uncertain future, so much helplessness and hopelessness and dread, so much fleeting happiness that dissipated when reality struck. It speaks to the past, a past neither of you related to anymore.

Another second, for your gaze to reach Tarsem. In him, you saw a future. In it, you saw stability and comfort, a love worth harbouring and cherishing. In it, you saw the Omaticaya, and the forest, a destiny that always seemed out of your reach, but which was now closer than ever. In it, you saw kids, running around, calling you mother. You saw the People, reaching for you for help and guidance, a feather jacket and pilgrimages that would decipher Eywa’s will.

In them, you saw yourself. One one hand, your past self, a human, broken and unmoored, born in a planet that didn’t make accommodations for the likes of her. You saw love that ran so deep it formed endless canyons in the pit of your soul, that emptied when the love was so ruthlessly taken away from you. You saw your mother, wicked and disinterested, and your father, evil and dangerous. On the other, you saw a warrior. Na'vi. Omaticaya, through and through. Tough and seasoned, healed and ready to heal. A mother. A mate.

You were neither of those.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you too Both of these things can be true There is happiness in our history

“There’s been talk, you know.”

“Oh?”

“About you.”

“I must be getting pretty good at it, this whole climbing and sneaking thing. I was hanging on an upper branch of a tree back in the village the other day. Managed to somehow catch the end tail of a conversation between a few girls. Didn’t hear me, too busy talking… about you, the Omaticayan Prince.” You snickered at the title, one of many titles reserved for Neteyam alone. You knew he hated it, all of it - the attention, and the pressure, the sacrifices that came with being worthy of all of them.

“Talking about how hot you are, how much they would kill to be the one you get to get take home at night. Theorising about who could it be. Going on and on about how lucky whoever you will choose as a mate will be, how there’s not a single girl in the village that wouldn’t die to have that honour bestowed upon them.“

Neteyam sighed and shrugged, brushing off the comments for only one of his own. “Only one girl I care about.”

You smiled in his chest, abundantly relieved and terrified all at once. This wasn’t good, this was so dangerous, the way he was playing the strings of your heart like he was a world-renowned harpist… but oh, it felt so necessary right now - the validation, the promise that, at least for a while, you still get to keep him just to yourself.

“She’s a lucky girl. Whoever she is.”

“I’m the lucky one. Because she’s… everything. And I work every day, try my hardest every day, to be worthy of her. And I want to make her a promise. For as long as i can help it, I promise I’ll hold on to her like I’ll ne-“

“Never let her go again.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard and hummed approvingly in return. You hoped he couldn’t feel the tears rolling down his side. You hoped he couldn’t tell that breaking this promise will break you. You hoped he never has to.

“Good.”

“She’ll do the same.”

Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight

There was so much spoken between you and Neteyam in just a few moments. There was so much he can see in you, so much struggle in your soul. And eventually, he sees you turn away from him, from all of them, willing your ikran away. He watches as you leave, by yourself, desperately wanting to go after you, realising it’s better if he didn’t. And just like that, a huge chapter of his life, the longest one, the best one, was instantly over and Neteyam knows he just lost you, forever.

You were never his to lose.

Leave it all behind

taglist: rebeccao03 @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @eywaeveng @midnight1812@fanboyluvr @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @daddysmurfslefttoenail @neteyamsikran @blue-slxt @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @eyweveng @itsjazzsworld @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @neteyamyawne @kasai-https @dvxsja @midnight1812

#༊*·˚ andra's works #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x y/n #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader angst #☆ andra's series #the 1 series #cruel summer

[queerofthedagger]

Something about the scene in The Sound of Her Wings where Dream and Death are arriving at the old man's house, and they hear the violin and Dream goes, "I know this piece; I haven't heard it in 200 years" with such wonder makes me SO emotional because it's like. Later on we also see him talking to Shakespeare, intrigued by hearing him claim he wants to make people have dreams, and we know Dream is creative, has to be to create endless dreams and nightmares, and it's just - to create and to indulge in art is such a human thing to do, isn't it? That doesn't mean only humans do it, of course, but it's perhaps what links him most to humanity and I love the use of it here so so much because after Burgess and everything, his view of humanity is obviously and understandably.... soured. But the episode goes about reminding him about what being human also means in such a beautiful way, and one so important part of that is art in all its forms and it is in Schubert's unfinished piece and it is in Shakespeare's wish to write great plays to inspire men, it's in the urge to create to leave something behind but also for the simple sake and joy of it, and then it is also in Hob's utter zest for life, his want to see and experience it all and to reinvent himself over and over and god it makes me so emotional just thinking about.

anyway not to make this even longer but you can't tell me Dream doesn't keep up with the music and art and literature of humanity at least somewhat and it makes sense, doesn't it, because how much of art is dreaming? And don't even get me started on how all of this relates back to his ex wife being a muse like!!! God.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #am i yet again rewatching? yes. yes i am #idek if this is coherent i should be sleeping but god #mona's rambling

[thrilling-oneway]

Fate in Project SEKAI - 1/?

VBS

2.3k

1. An and Kohane

Right from the main story we're introduced to the idea that An and Kohane's first meeting was simply fate. Kohane was just a bypasser overhearing An's singing, hearing An talk about her dreams. It's this that makes Kohane reflect on herself, how she's never been passionate and never had anything she wanted to throw herself into. This girl is everything she isn't and everything she would like to be.

They don't even meet formally, but An's profession of her dream and Kohane's longing for one is what causes their SEKAI to manifest. We know from MEIKO that it's been around for a long time, but it wasn't until Kohane saw An that it revealed itself to its owners. But that could've been anyone. Anyone could've been inspired by An, or Akito and Toya, since they were involved in its creation too. Heck we could've had Kotaro who outright stated was inspired by Akito. But no, it had to be Kohane. Kohane had something she wanted to change about herself, and meeting An is the only way this could happen.

An also needed a partner, and Kohane was the perfect partner. An grew up talented surrounded by talented people. She never had any problems, she'd always been a step above everyone else. Kohane is a total beginner, far, far out of her comfort zone. They compliment each other. Kohane learns from An how to sing, how to be confident, all about her dreams and aspirations. She learns what it's like to be passionate. An learns what it means to rely on someone, what it means to wholly trust someone. A beginner is not to be protected, a beginner is to be taught. She teaches Kohane all these things, and learns what it's like to struggle too. She experiences a sense of weakness for the first time, the fear that someone will surpass her. She's not jealous, she's happy for Kohane, but she's insecure that Kohane will become too good for her, that she'll fall behind and lose the person she loves and trusts more than anyone else. It's these insecurities that push her to become even better, to improve further. She may be naturally talented but that doesn't mean you can't improve.

Kohane's fes card further touches on the idea of An being everything she wanted to be, by literally making her become An. All this time she thought she had to become An, not realising that what she truly needed was to stay being herself. Kohane wanted to change, but to change yourself doesn't mean to become someone else entirely. Kohane is still Kohane. She's still the shy girl who was too scared to do anything, but she left that girl in the past the second she chose to return to An in the main story. It's this idea of a rebirth that is touched on a lot more later on in Nagi and Akito's arcs, and VBS' arc as a whole.

2. Akito and Toya

Was Akito and Toya's meeting just a coincidence, or was it fate? I'll discuss the overlaps between coincidences and fate in this game later, but for now we'll say that yes, Akito and Toya's meeting was also fate. In fact, it's rather similar to An and Kohane's - a parallel, if you will. Not quite the same but not wholly different.

Akito had been fully devoted to soccer for his entire childhood. He was talented, the best player on the team. He put so much time and energy into it. And then he lost, and gave up. Bringing back that idea of rebirth. Akito's passion for soccer burnt out, he was done with it, and not going back. Sure he was good, but he had nothing left in him to care about it anymore. Seeing that concert relit that passion. Made him rediscover himself. Maybe he wasn't made for soccer, but made for music. Music was an opportunity to reinvent himself, much like it was for Kohane.

Toya came from a musical family. Surrounded by professional musicians, tied to the fate of music from birth. His family expected nothing less of him than to follow in their footprints, a fate pushed onto him regardless of whether he wanted it or not. It wasn't right for him and it hurt, his parents hurt him trying to make him into something he wasn't. He may be talented and experienced, but he was willing to run away from it all. The lyrics to RAD DOGS say as much. Classical music was never his real fate, his real fate lied with street music. Even then, street music was just something he chose because it was so different from the path chosen for him. It was an unknown route that he didn't know how to navigate, but nonetheless, he grew to love it. Fate cannot be chosen, so maybe Toya's spontaneous choice was leading him in the right direction.

Akito happened to meet Toya on the street one day, just like how Kohane first encountered An. Akito, who had refused to work with so many people before, immediately chose Toya on his own accord. He recognised Toya's talent, that Toya was new and inexperienced despite all that, and that Toya was someone who needed a guide in this unknown world. Akito and Toya are two sides of the same coin. Akito is bold and brash and two-faced, Toya is calm and reserved and honest. Akito has no background or talent in music, Toya has all of that. Even their colours are complete opposites. But at the end of it all, both of them chose this path as a way to reinvent themselves. Relight a fire that had burnt out within themselves, allow it to burn brighter than before. Relight, restart, reborn. It's all the same. They're one in the same despite all their differences. They compliment each other and it's what allows them to work so well together, to trust and love each other more than anyone else. Aun no Beats' title is derived from the term Aun no Kokyuu/Aun Breathing, when two people act in perfect harmony to the point of breathing the same, being able to understand each other without words. There's a reason they and no one else was chosen to cover that song.

3. Bird lore + Arata and Souma

The Walk on and on event essentially confirms that the meetings of the two pairs were indeed fate, and that they're soulmates. A word that so fully describes exactly what they are. They complete each other, understand each other and trust each other so, so deeply. Kohane would not be who she is now without An, An would not be who she is now without Kohane. The same applies to Akito and Toya, their meeting is essential to who they are now, they wouldn't have navigated this far without standing shoulder to shoulder, back to back. The best way to describe these feelings, these actions, the way they act and the way they complete each other, two halves of a whole, two sides of the same coin, two parts of the same story, would be love. Platonic or romantic, the text supports both. Kohane and An will keep working hard to become the best possible partner for each other. Akito and Toya are still learning too, how to become even better than the best partner anyone could ask for.

The cards for that event contain a few references to the idea of soulmates two. First, the costumes. Toya and Kohane's costumes for the event have a single wing on the back. Their first recolours change the accent colour to their partner's image colour and flip the side of the wing. This alludes to the mythical Hiyoku bird. A bird with only one wing that will not be able to fly until it meets its other half. Akito and Toya would never have been able to fly, to get as far as they have, if it weren't for that chance meeting on the street. The same applies to An and Kohane, if Kohane hadn't run into An she never would've changed, and An never would've had a partner quite like Kohane. The cards also feature crows, a bird that, notably, mates for life. Toya explicitly states in the event that he wants to stay right beside Akito forever. It's a promise, it's not quite fate but it's the closest a person can get to it with their own actions. Toya is never going to leave Akito's side, and in return, Akito will continue to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. We see this demonstrated in Toya's card, with Akito literally having broken Toya's cage to reach him, and continue to sit beside him.

KAITO's card is particularly interesting, as it suggests that Akito and Toya, and An and Kohane are not the only fated partners on Vivid Street. KAITO's costume notably already has two wings, a completed whole, only one of them is damaged. Whilst not confirmed, it's highly likely that this is meant to represent Arata and Souma. After all, Souma was an important character in Walk on and on, as was his relationship with Arata. Souma and Arata's relationship has been compared to Akito and Toya's multiple times. Both of them wholly care for and love their partners, as outright stated by KAITO in THE POWER OF UNITY. For Toya, Akito is incredibly important to him. Akito taught him to love music again, Akito introduced him to a whole new world that he only entered out of spite but now is devoted to with his entirety. He has nothing but gratitude for Akito, much like how Souma has nothing but gratitude for Arata. Both of them want to give something back, through the medium both they and their partners love and understand more than anything.

Souma's accident may have made him unable to continue to stand by Arata's side, but Arata will continue to carry the dream that once rested on both their shoulders. It's more complicated for Arata though, who is still clinging to the grief of losing a partner who always stood beside him, a wall placed between them against his will, a wing torn from his shoulder. Dreams can't be carried alone, which is why he can't truly ever carry Souma's dream, nor claim it as his own. He's so caught up in his feelings that he can't realise that he wants this too, that it isn't just for Souma. It's in his honour, the memory of a dream that can't be achieved anymore. Arata's inability to realise this brings him so much pain because he loves Souma, so much, and it crushes him to think that he's betrayed him, in a sense. But once again, they truly are two people who complete each other. Souma wouldn't have reached the heights he did reach if Arata wasn't there beside him, and Arata would not still be on this path if it weren't for Souma leading him along for the first part of the journey.

4. Nagi and RAD WEEKEND

If there's one thing known about fate, it's that fate isn't kind to everyone. Fate was cruel to Nagi, it took her life from her. Her dreams were to be left unfulfilled, half complete. She had no choice in the matter, her story was coming to a close, before she could bring it to a proper conclusion. However, even if her fire burnt out, she still had the time to light a fire in a new generation. Her story will never see a proper end, but she can give her story to a new generation, and inspire them to write their own, one that can be truly completed.

Nagi held RAD WEEKEND as a send-off to herself, one last performance that she could put everything that she could into since she wouldn't have another chance. It was also a chance to create a legacy for herself. Whilst she herself would be gone, her impact would be remembered, be seen by many and inspire them to reach for their dreams, or perhaps give them a new dream. As she looks out to the audience whilst putting her legacy and dreams into the world, she sees An and Akito in the audience. While they wouldn't know it for years, Nagi knows, in that moment, mere days before her death, that these are the children she's inspiring, the ones who will remember, the ones who she's lighting a fire for, a fire that will never burn out. It's fate that Akito was there, it's fate that Nagi saw both him and An, and chose to entrust her life's work to them. Without Nagi, there is no Vivid BAD SQUAD. Without Nagi, An and Akito would not be so passionate, for there is no RAD WEEKEND to be passionate about. Akito wouldn't have chosen Toya as the one to run toward his dreams with, because there would be no dream to run towards. Kohane wouldn't have seen that passionate girl on the street and wished she could be just like her, wish she could be more than herself. And without that, there would never be a Vivid BAD SQUAD, never be a SEKAI, never be an Arata who learnt that he's not alone, or a Kotaro who learnt that he's not as talentless and useless as he believes.

Without Nagi, there's nothing. Her fate was not to die before her story was finished, because she finished her story. Her fate was to pass that story on, allow it to be rewritten and adapted by the ones she inspired with it, allow it to continue on. Nagi had more of an impact than she will ever know, but she knew that it's what she wanted, she knew who she was telling her story to, who she hoped would take what she gave them and run and burn brighter than she ever did. For Vivid BAD SQUAD, for Arata and Souma, for Kotaro, and for Tatsuya, Nagi is what guided them to their fate. Even moreso, she may have created it.

#project sekai #mine #vivid bad squad #rambles #sorry the last part is a bit short. i typed this directly into a discord server over the last 1.5 hours #also its 11:30. pm. #i don't wanna clog tags but for the sake of my blogs organisation: #azusawa kohane #shiraishi an #shinonome akito #aoyagi toya #tono arata #miyata souma #kotaki nagi #and for the fun of it #anhane #akitoya #arasou

[vampirefest]

Dear companions in darkness, the wait is finally over! We'd like to thank everyone who participated in our little guessing game, we got a lot of interesting answers.

For the month of November, we bring you a fun low-pressure bingo inspired by Lestat, that you can fill up at your leisure throughout the month.

You can use the prompts on the bingo card to write fanfics, make fanart, amvs, edits or any other creative outlet to show your appreciation for our beloved Brat Prince.

You can find the rules and guidelines for the event here. The link to the collection can be found here.

Don't forget to tag with #vflestatbirthdaybingo and/or tag us at @vampirefest so that we can find your posts.

Here is the complete bingo card for our birthday boy!

You can find the full detailed prompts below the cut.

Happy Lestat Month!

1. "My lord, the Wolfkiller": The killing of the wolves, a moment that comes to define Lestat for all eternity. You can explore this fundamental event in Lestat's life, the way it altered the course of his life and his family dynamics, and the symbolism it came to represent in Lestat's later life.

2. First love I The witches' place: For Nickistat lovers out there, this is your time to shine! It's also a chance to explore another formative moment of Lestat's life—his experience at the witches' place—when Lestat came to the fundamental understanding that there is no meaning in the end - not to the cruelty, not to the laws of men - all that exists is the one life he's living and the aesthetic of it all.

3. The performer: Actor | Rockstar: Performing is Lestat's second nature, either to present an image of himself to others to earn their love, or to hide this true self. From the time he is a young man, Lestat is awed by actors and artists, they create worlds and life out of nothingness. Some of Lestat's best and happiest moments are on the stage, acting or singing for his adoring public.

4. Rue Royale era: For decades, 1132 Rue Royale was the home of our favourite little vampire family. A family that, according to Lestat, shouldn't have lasted as long as it did. Here you can explore the dynamics between the unholy family, between Lestat and Louis, and the highs and lows of this period in Lestat's life. As Lestat said, he has never been as happy as in that little house on Rue Royale.

5. Free Space: This is your chance to explore any themes or moments in our brat prince's life outside of the prompts proposed. Let your creativity run wild!

6. "I don't like myself, you know.! love myself, of course. I'm devoted to myself till my dying day. But I don't like myself.": Use this prompt to explore Lestat's insecurities and his complicated relationship with himself, from his abandonment issues to his reflections on his body, his monstrosity and so much more.

7. Lust for life: Here you can explore Lestat the dreamer, Lestat the hedonist, Lestat the embodiment of hunger. He has a lust for blood, love, adventure, for a better life filled with more excitement and lived to the fullest. Lestat takes what he wants and follows his every whim.

8. Resilience: Lestat is the metaphorical cockroach of the Vampire Chronicles universe. Whatever life throws at him, he rolls with the punches and finds a way to survive and make the best of every situation. He always finds a way to reinvent himself and to keep moving forward. With this prompt, you can explore Lestat's defiance in the face of obstacles and his resilience even under the worst circumstances.

9. The Brat Prince | Prince Lestat era: Set your creations in the Prince Lestat era or simply explore Lestat's bratty nature that earned him the moniker "The Brat Prince".

#vflestatbirthdaybingo #lestat de lioncourt #loustat #nickistat #lesmand #interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc iwtv #the vampire chronicles #tvc #fandom event #low pressure #fanart #fanfiction #fanfiction event #prompt event

[mostlymaudlin]

An Attempted Explanation of Andrew’s “Manic Pills”

One of the things that bothers me about AFTG is Andrew’s medicine. The way most of the characters talk about court-mandated psychiatry and sobriety and mania is a questionable and often harmful representation of what it’s like to experience mania/hypomania — which like, it’s fiction, that’s fine, but it’s also something that I take a lil personally. So I’ve decided to try to legitimize the whole thing for myself, just because I can!

Necessary to note: I’m not a medical professional, a lawyer, etc. I’m usually a pretty good fact-checker, but I could definitely be wrong abt stuff, and I’d love for you to tell me if I am. I ran a lot of this by the lovely @the-greater-grief, who does have a medical background and also inspired me with this analysis they did on Andrew’s mental health. They were really helpful in explaining a lot of the more technical drug information, so they’re largely responsible for most of the theory that makes sense lol. But, they are also not responsible for me saying things that are wrong, lol! Alsooooo, I’ve been in the fandom for less than a year so it’s possible I’m saying stuff people have said before. Idc. I’m having fun reinventing the wheel lmfao. Okay, onwards!

The post has two parts: 

Lovingly dismantling a lot of the bullshit Neil tells us in the books

Setting up a more realistic version of Andrew’s mental health situation

Apologies in advance, this got long-winded. Let’s do this! 

Dismissing Neil’s framing

AFTG is told from Neil’s perspective, so we as readers are limited to the things he knows and understands. We know that Neil is often unreliable, and as perceptive as he can be, he makes a lot of questionable assumptions that he internalizes as fact. 

This is what he tells us, rather crudely: 

Andrew tried to kill some guys, because he might be a psychopath/sociopath.

Rather than being sent to prison, he was court-mandated to take drugs that make him “manic”/less likely to kill other people. 

The manic pills make him crazy and also make him sick, to the point where the characters refer to him as “sober” when he is unmedicated.

The withdrawal is severe enough that his psych wants him to be hospitalized to come off them. 

We learn all this about Andrew’s treatment from three sources: Information Neil read before he even joined the Foxes, Nicky’s exposition dumps, and Andrew’s actual behavior. The bullshit mostly comes from the first two items on this list, because Andrew never cares to explain much of his situation to Neil. And we can actually brush all of it off pretty easily. 

Neil builds most of his perception of Andrew’s treatment on top of information from articles he read about Kevin’s transfer to Palmetto State. These articles were unkind — the Exy world was upset that Kevin was leaving the Ravens, and Andrew was painted in a cruel and probably inaccurate way. Neil mentions an article headlined “The Prince & the Pauper”... I personally would not take anything from that article seriously.

Some of this bullshit is corroborated by Nicky, a 20-something year old jock majoring in marketing. When Andrew was sentenced, we can guess that Nicky (still basically a teenager himself) was very scared that his cousin, who he is responsible for, was going to get sent to prison. Based on the way he talks about mental health in general, I wouldn’t consider him to be an expert on the nitty-gritty of psychiatry. He just saw the outcome of the trial, which was not prison, yay! and instead involved some kind of pills that made Andrew way more social. Also, as much as I think Nicky tries, he doesn’t really get Andrew — he thought Andrew was straight, and then he thought he was hate-fucking Neil. He’s not a reliable source when it comes to judging how Andrew’s brain works/how he is affected by his treatment. 

This leaves Andrew’s behavior, because he never talks about his mental health except to say that he’s “crazy” and that he is not a sociopath. When he’s on the medicine, his behavior includes an elevated mood, a short attention span, and trouble curbing his impulses. When he doesn’t take his medicine on time, he experiences withdrawal (nausea, fatigue, etc), and feeling ill seems to curb some of his mood elevation enough to let him think with more clarity. When he’s off it, he is able to shut down his emotional reactions to things, though he still exhibits flashes of the rage, depression, and zingy one-liners from his behavior in the first two books.

Also, the only people who actually seem to understand Andrew’s mental health treatment are Andrew himself, Bee, and probably Wymack. Aaron might also have a better handle on it all because he’s pre-med, and also he understands Andrew enough to clock that he is gaga for Neil lol. 

Okay. Bullshit? Gone. 

A proposed alternate story

Once upon a time, some homophobes started beating up Andrew’s cousin and the only legal guardian that didn’t treat him like utter shit, so he went feral on them. 

He gets arrested, and somewhere along the line the courts determine that his violence stems from mental illness. Rather than being sentenced to prison, he gets some kind of probation that mandates he engage in mental health treatment. The psychiatrist he sees at the time determines that he has depression — which, like, they’ve definitely seen his self-harm scars, so this is a fair assumption — and he is prescribed an antidepressant. 

Now’s a good time to mention that no one would ever intentionally prescribe something to induce mania in a patient. Mania is a supremely dangerous state. People get hospitalized to get out of a manic episode. Whenever I even inch toward it, my therapist and psych are like, “CALL ME!!!!” It also would do nothing to curb violence — the opposite, actually, if the manic person often has a hard time holding themselves back from hurting themselves and others. If you look at Andrew’s behavior in the first two books, I don’t think it would even qualify as full-blown mania. He sleeps, he fulfills his responsibilities, he doesn’t seem to have any delusions of grandeur. His symptoms align better with hypomania, which is less severe and accounts for the things we noted before (mood elevation, short attention span, irritability, impulsiveness). I also think a lot of the stuff Andrew does that is attributed to his medicine is probably just Andrew being Andrew — because as Aaron once said, “it wasn’t the drugs that made him crazy.” (I wrote more about this once in an Andrew character study I did.)

So, the antidepressants would’ve been prescribed to treat the depression, which hypothetically could’ve made Andrew so hopeless and full of rage that he was constantly on the verge of flipping his shit on people. There are plenty of antidepressants that will make you sick/be less effective if you fuck with your dosing schedule, and all the alcohol he drinks probably doesn’t help either. Still, the medicine would just treat depression. HOWEVER! If Andrew actually has bipolar disorder (:D!!!), then some antidepressants do have a risk of inducing mania/hypomania!  

It should’ve been obvious that Andrew’s antidepressant was not working as intended. But I doubt Nicky, Andrew, and Aaron had great health insurance before they enrolled at Palmetto, so Andrew’s court-mandated mental health provider was probably like, “cool, not trying to kill people anymore, we’re good.” A good provider like Bee would clock that Andrew had been misdiagnosed, and she’d want to adjust his medicine. But this leads to the final part of the theory — actually suggested by the brilliant Grimm — which also could explain how Andrew came to trust Bee.

If Bee diagnosed Andrew with bipolar, she would want to switch him over to lithium, which is the most common bipolar medicine. I’ve never actually been on lithium, and while I’ve heard it can be really effective, it definitely has a bad reputation — some people say it makes them feel like a “zombie.” Fatigue/dizziness/drowsiness are known potential side effects, especially when you’re adjusting to changed doses — and anyone who’s ever been on a psych med knows that it takes a while to get the dose right. I’m guessing (justified) control freak Andrew Minyard would not be down to risk feeling like a zombie.

(Sidenote: people with bipolar II also get put on lamotrigine, which specifically manages low moods, but from what I can tell it wouldn’t have been common in the mid-2000s. it was only approved for bipolar treatment in 2003.)

Maybe Bee made him a deal: He can stay on the antidepressant, which is not working but is also not the most dangerous thing, as long as he fully commits to their talk therapy sessions so that he can learn how to cope with his symptoms. This is similar to the deal Wymack struck with Andrew. He tends to trust the small handful of people who have given him agency. 

Alright, that’s the theory! Andrew has bipolar disorder. He’s not on the right meds. The courts are not doing silly illegal things (well, not in this case anyway), and the jocks of PSU are the real stereotypes here.

Because at the end of the day, this is a tale as old as time: People with mental illness are easily made out to be the villain.

#aftg #my writing

[animentality]

Weird fan theory here but maybe Gortash is supposed to be an old family name or some intimidating name drawn from whatever FR culture he’s supposed to be? I throw this out there because Enver Gortash is very clearly Turkish inspired, and he looks ethnically Turkish in game. Flymm doesn’t seem to fit that bill, but maybe he drew on some Calishite influence to come up with a new, more intimidating name for himself when reinventing his image first in the HoH, later as he rose in power in Baldurs Gate.

I suppose, and that could be really cool, I just don't know why Raphael and his goons would respect his new name.

That's the paradox.

If they called him that, then it doesn't make sense for him to keep it.

If he named himself that, why would they respect his new name?

Plus Nubaldin says that he's shocked Gortash is a lord...so it's not like he heard of the "new name."

I should stop thinking about it.

I know it's just cuz the developers of baldur's gate think we're all fucking stupid so they just mentioned Gortash so we'd know he means Gortash.

They think we couldn't figure out that Enver is the same Enver Gortash.

It would've been far smarter to say there was a pathetic little brat named Enver here...

And you could say you mean lord enver gortash?

And then the guy could say lord? gortash? his name is enver flymm and he was a pathetic little boy.

That's all they had to do, instead of making this conundrum.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash

[nicki0kaye]

random kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #3

I think getting him to socialize will be like pulling teeth. It obvs depends on how you interpret his few lines in season 4, but I don't think he was doing the bond villain voice as a joke when he greeted the Spectres. I think he's just like that.

And I think he knows it's off-putting, and is using that as a shield of sorts so he doesn't have to go too far into the unknown after entirely uprooting his life and leaving the Empire.

the explanation I always come back to is 'be what they expect', like that's his strategy within the Rebellion. This is important bc my main hc for Kallus is that everything about his presentation is fake. His accent and cadence was taken from the big bad in a show he liked as a tween. His only formal education is from the Academy, so he lacks a lot of standard knowledge others take for granted. He was an entirely different person before entering the Empire (though it was the Republic at his time of enlistment), and even though he's been in character for the last 20-ish years, there's nothing stopping him from constructing a new one. Nothing but himself and his goals.

Now there's also the comfort aspect. Creating a whole new life is terrifying, and I do think there's a measure of comfort he takes for having 'valid reasons' for not reinventing himself. He's also been shaped by the Empire (and his life before, as a gang lord's son) to expect the worst of people--to make formalities weapons, to always expect the knife in the back, to take any opportunity to tear someone else down so he can rise higher. That's created a paranoid, hyper-alert state re: other people, and the people of the Rebellion have every reason to distrust and ostracize him bc of his past as an ISB officer.

All of this is to say, 'be what they expect' is both a strategy to lessen the friction between him and the Rebellion, and also as a means of protecting his own sense of stability. Changing shit up now could draw unwanted attention, give Rebels cause to distrust his goals and intentions, call into question who he is what he's capable of, and ultimately would be taxing and anxiety inducing for him.

I think he's a proud guy who doesn't do shit in half measures, and that means taking 'failure' very seriously, including social failure. If he's a stuck up asshole ex-Imp, he's not gonna win anyone over, which means he won't feel bad or like he's fucked up if no one likes him much. He's setting himself up for failure as a means of controlling the situation, bc he is very out of his depths and hyper aware of what a mistake could cost.

that isn't to say I don't love hcs where he loosens the sphincter and genuinely tries to socialize and make nice, I fucking adore those, I just think getting him there would be a process. He's a recovering perfectionist, he's gonna need the help.

I also just...look, one of my criteria for imprinting on a character is how likely they are to sit there with a neutral expression while mentally furiously playing 4D chess against themselves and their perceived opponent re: literally any social interaction. I love the mfs who look like they have their shit together but in reality are one misstep away from a meltdown over 'failing' at being a human. It's the autistic people pleaser in me.

and I love the idea of that person being worth saving. That they can bond and find love and friendship and learn to be better at this shit. I like exploring that process, warts and all. I like forcing them to admit they need other people, they want other people, even if it scares them shitless.

There's a song from the musical Company called 'Being Alive' that reminds me a lot of what I feel is the core driving force for Kallus' change. It starts with the character more or less listing all the reasons love sucks, actually, but there's a turn midway where he starts begging for all these little inconveniences because; "Alone is alone, not alive"

And I think Kallus is deeply embarrassed that he feels that way. That for all the perfectly understandable reasons to hate the Empire, he ultimately changed because he was tired of being alone and wanted to be alive. So there's also this layer of penance and self-denial that is informed by his guilt for all he's done, but is ultimately him punishing himself for wanting something so selfish and being so 'weak'.

He hasn't earned friends yet. He doesn't deserve to be loved. He has so much evil to make up for, so much work to do, it'd just be a distraction, and worse a selfish distraction.

And there's reason to consider him an inherently selfish character, I think it should probably be applied to him more, it's a much more realistic take on him, but I personally prefer the obnoxious martyrism of it all. That he's able to flip his morals because they were, ultimately, a put-on anyway. That he is aware of right and wrong and his ability to empathize hasn't withered into nothing after years of violence and cruelty. And even if he can't feel empathy as strongly as he once could, he is at least hyper aware he now runs with a crowd that draws strength from empathy and needs to readjust himself accordingly.

So I guess even if he is still talking and acting like a bond villain, he is tailoring his words and actions to suit the Rebel's sensibilities. And I think he's hyper aware that's a choice--that other people (like Zeb) are just naturally care about the right things and treating others the right way. That he's already deceiving them in a way, which inherently makes him a two-faced liar, and it would just make things messy if he added to that deceit by acting personable and kind and understanding. It's so important the Rebels trust him, so important that they not question his intel and motivations, so it just makes sense that he not push too far and make it obvious he can be anyone. That he could mirror them perfectly, say exactly what they want to hear just how they want to hear it.

No one knows he's a fake person, so he has to keep the mask on. He has to stay in his little ex-imp box and put the real reasons he defected on the back-burner so that this under-funded, over-worked, run-on-shoe-laces-and-hope band of misfits don't die on his watch.

And i really like it when he's proven wrong, and forced to abandon the box and face the horrible ordeal of being known better than he knows himself.

#kallus #nik v sw

[love-kurdt]

Now That We Don’t Talk (byler)

(A four-part fic [companion to This is Me Trying] inspired by the Taylor Swift song)

Will arrives at the American Academy of Art in August 1989, intent on stepping out of his comfort zone and reinventing himself. After years of being uncertain of the future, his time in Chicago seems to serve as a light at the end of an endless tunnel, providing him with a fresh start to leave his old life in Hawkins behind. Will swears up and down to everyone he knows that he’s ready to move on, but even so, there’s always a small part of Will that refuses to let his heart go.

total word count:

tumblr: 1 2 3 4

ao3: 1 2 3 4

playlist

audiobook

sequel: Don’t Blame Me

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fic #ntwdt1 #ntwdt2 #ntwdt3 #ntwdt4

[notoriousbeb]

This reading from Oct. 16 is about Harry’s future spouse (I love these).

She encourages him to embrace the unknown and question the establishment.

She also wants him to listen to his body and trust himself when he needs rest and time away and to let go of things from his past and childhood that might have held him back.

Her characteristics: She’s okay with operating outside expectations; she switches up her look from time to time (white hair, green eyes and dark lip stick); she colors outside the lines intentionally in terms of creativity.

Their relationship is about major spiritual lessons for both of them, and inspires them to be motivated and creative.

She may need to move around a lot or experience new places when they were younger and now for their job. She also recreates her identity/reinvent herself. She uses her life experiences to grow.

She’s very confident in who she is and what she wants.

The afterlife and spiritual concepts intrigue her.

She’s very resourceful and self-made in pursuing her passions.

Sometimes, things haven’t come easy for her. Could be why she has had to be so resourceful. She’s always been going after what she wants.

She is very creative and imaginative. She’s likely in the entertainment industry. It’s tied in with her belief that life is a mystery and exploring the “what if’s” in life.

She might have been raised in a strict or rule-abiding household with a sense that it doesn’t matter what you’re born into, because if you embrace your passion that’s what matters.

While she hasn’t had it easy all the time, she’s been very fortunate, on the whole, because she’s worked so hard and not let other people tell her how to dream.

Their relationship requires Harry to adapt and accept things as they come and understanding how he or they need to change and embrace life experiences, transforming confusion and fear into a sense of personal power.

She can be guarded with her heart. She can’t let everyone into her world or inner circle.

They’re going to be able to have a smooth relationship, because they’re going to be able to communicate well from a place of knowing themselves and knowing what needs to be shared.

Currently, she’s definitely being guarded and busy connecting with her higher purpose.

She’s someone who is passionate, outspoken, and not afraid to go after what she wants. She also wants to help others do that, too.

What she offers the world: she’s an example of taking up space and being in touch with your own dreams and desires and abilities and not letting other people make you back down.

She has a lot of masculine energy (confidence, knowing who she is, having life experience to know what she’s talking about). She’s a leader who takes care of herself financially. A lot of fire energy—she could be a fire sign (I’m sorry guys, but this is all a Ms. Swift).

She could act, produce, have her own business (yes, yes, and yes).

She’s okay being the center of attention and gossip. She just does her thing anyway. What’s important to her is trusting herself and the people she lets into her life.

She is all about transformations (back to the white hair, green eyes and dark lip stick…Bleachella, is that you?).

She pushes the envelope and creates a stir—something that can be shocking to others—that makes her even more powerful and in the lime light.

The reader feels like Harry’s FS is in the spotlight, and there’s a lot of news articles about them.

#harry styles tarot #tarot card reading #October 2023 #Youtube