bold of you to assume we (or atleast i) dont want to read paragraphs about ik's and belphie's dynamic 😈😈
if you feel like writing that, i'd absolutely love to read about it!!! ^^
RIGHT YES this took me a hot minute but let's go!!!!
so the main points that this is all built around:
belphie is someone who is absolutely shit at understanding himself
ik is someone who has a knack for understanding anyone she talks to for long enough
belphie's first resort is usually to leave things to someone else, but easily asserts the things he wants
ik will actively pursue you if she thinks she can help, despite usually feeling guilty about requesting anything
they both have very simple views of very complicated things
building from point 1: this is not entirely belphie's fault - i've talked about this before, so i'll just paste the pertinent bits here:
belphie, as the youngest brother, has been detrimentally coddled in regards to these things, and has NO fucking idea how to properly deal with loss
the others haven't tried to talk to him about his grief for lilith, nor about their experiences during the celestial war; when they all had to support each other after the fall, they comforted him, but never ever discussed the pain of it all
it's like the doctor refusing to talk about your actual symptoms because they're afraid of making you uncomfortable, and instead just soothingly going "it's okay, just take some ibuprofen and see me in the morning"
belphie underestimates himself and, at the start of the year, is convinced that there's no way forward - 1. he feels he's left it too late, 2. he feels he's the only one still hung up on lilith's death, which only makes him more bitter, and 3. he thinks that the hatred and grief is just who he is now
now take ik, who finds him in the attic and takes worryingly little convincing to help him - even more concerningly, she decides to go through with it even upon finding out he was lying about his identity. this is a direct contradiction to his conviction that humanity is selfish and cruel - more than that, the more ik visits and chats with him, the more he remembers why he'd been so fascinated by humans as an angel
except it also reminds him of how much lilith loved humanity. belphie doesn't think he's capable of letting go - he doesn't think he's allowed to, and to him befriending a human and moving on is the same as betraying his sister's memory. so he represses any feelings of good-will and continues to nurse his hatred
i think it's important to note that belphie's hang-ups have always been self-destructive before this, but the more he lets his own grief fester, the more it threatens to burst. his threat to lucifer about destroying humanity is an early indicator of this, and it culminates in a moment of extreme emotional distress where it finally all implodes
so ik - in the wrong place and the wrong time (in the literal sense) - finds him in the middle of a nightmare, wakes him up, and gets murdered for her troubles
belphie shuts down immediately after, because to him this is a point of no return. he's already convinced himself that nothing can be done for him, and this is the proof. except then everyone else forgets what's happened, and, panicking, he goes along with it - out of fear of losing his family if he comes clean.
so: point 2 - consider that a big thing with ik is that she just doesn't get why belphie acts the way he does after killing her. she's been able to get into the heads of his brothers before him, and even now can somewhat rationalise them forgetting, but she has no idea why belphie - who first killed her and then acted like he'd forgotten about it - would suddenly seem so wracked with guilt upon finding him in the dreamscape
belphie does not think he is strong enough to move on. ik, somehow, intrinsically, already knows this is not true. this is why she's so bewildered by belphie telling her lilith's story. he's convinced this is some kind of damning evidence, but ik doesn't get how this explains anything. and because she doesn't understand, she seeks answers.
now take point 3 and 4. belphie does not attempt to seek forgiveness - he just sits in the cell solomon locks him in. he doesn't try to get out, he doesn't attempt to repent, and he doesn't want to, because as far as he's concerned there's nothing to be done
ik, on the other hand, is going to put her home back together by force if necessary, so she goes to find him. multiple times, she climbs up the tower stairs to rescue him from a waking nightmare - the same thing that killed her - because her family is still his family, and she knows too well what it's like when you go without.
belphie has been sitting stagnant for millennia on end, and now ik has decided that she is going to KICK him along until he figures out that he can stand on his own two feet and keep going. and it works, because for some reason digging demons out of emotional pits of their own creation is ik's specialty
and now point 5: ik and belphie fall quite easily into a typical sibling dynamic of the "i'll make fun of you constantly, but if anyone messes with you they're dead" kind. they never really sit down to talk out all the residual Baggage of everything, because neither of them are the type to overthink these things
but EVEN THEN. they may be simple-minded but the complication of the everything that led up to this means there's little hidden meanings even in the normalcy of their behaviour, and neither of them ever register it
for belphie it's "i'll never understand you. thank you for understanding me. i don't know what to say, so i'll tease you for tripping on your laces instead. i'd throw someone down a gorge if they made you cry. let's go shopping. i think i'll spend the rest of my life wondering if i can ever close the wound i tore in your soul."
for ik it's "i'll never forget what you did to me. i see you in my nightmares sometimes. thanks for waiting for me after school. quit making a show out of helping me reach the top shelf. sometimes i'm glad you regret things so much. can you help me with this homework? i think we're alright."
and for both of them it's "i like hanging out with you. sleep well. i'm glad we're home."
in conclusion,
i am crazy about things i made up entirely. perhaps i am cringe but i am free
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The Fight
Trying to pick up the pace a little bit, but I'm not very good at writing action so this might be a bit clunky. Please excuse me.
Mountain's Peak (Part 1)
Nepal Sanctum (Part 2)
Talk it out (Part 3)
In which we let it all out
Ramattra found his brother exactly where he expected to; Tucked away on the highest roof top of the Monastery's temples, an old withered place few monks visited simply for the egregious amount of single wide stairs clearly poorly placed by the original builders.
"Brother Mondatta is looking for you," Ramattra spoke with no worry of startling his brother, positive Zenyatta had already sensed his approach at least three levels down. The fact that he hadn't run was a good sign.
"He can look a while longer.." Zenyatta replied, relaxing from his curled up position to allow his legs to dangle over the edge of the building.
Ramattra sat himself down beside his brother, taking a moment to appreciate the view. The sun was setting, stars had started to dot the soft pink sky. From this high up, one could truly see on into forever if they desired to.
"You hit the human..." Ramattra finally pressed, giving a glance to Zenyatta, who curled back in on himself slightly.
"I did."
"You said you would only use what I taught you in self defense."
"I did not use what you taught me, dear brother. I used my fist."
Ramattra couldn't help the slight chuckle hearing his elder defend himself so sharply released. If he could still shoot back, then he couldn't be all that tore up about what he'd done.
"Mondatta will expect an apology when we finally return."
"I did nothing to him." Zenyatta once again uncurled himself, his legs once more dangling over the building's edge as he relaxed into the flow of conversation with Ramattra.
"To the human, Brother."
Zenyatta released a loud, dramatic sigh noise, clunking his head into Ramattra's shoulder. "I would rather be placed on cattle clean up for the next 7 years."
Ramattra chuckled once again, "And I would love to assist you with such chores, but that is not Mondatta's way."
"No... I suppose not..." Zenyatta's voice softened as he once more pulled his knee to his chest, placing a hand on the ground next to Ramattra for balance.
Ramattra found his hand placed gently over his brother's, keeping his sensors locked to the stars as he leaned his head atop Zenyatta's.
With the sunrise the brothers would make their way back down to the village, they'd catch Master Mondatta on his way back from his morning meditation, when the monastery is silent and the human is still asleep. Zenyatta would give his apology, and be given laundry duty in return, with Ramattra would happily assist with despite Mondatta's preaching on how one must face their misdoings on their own.
That would all come tomorrow. For tonight, the two sat peacefully on the temple roof top, hands intertwined in a painfully human way, counting stars until the sun arose the next morning.
That stare made everyone in the monastery uncomfortable. Bright red eyes that only ever saw the monks as who they were, what they had been made for, how they'd failed or succeeded at a task that had been forced upon them.
It was sickening.
Across from Zenyatta stood the human, shouldering off thick layers of cloth and robes and scarves until only one remained, tied tightly off at his waist by a cream orange cincture belt. He then removed the thick, straw woven snow boots Mondatta had made for him, stepping bare foot into the chalk drawn circle of the training area, holding his hands up in a ready pose.
He'd kept his eyes locked on Zenyatta, not in a glare of malice, or even his usual annoying fascination, but a neutral look that challenged him without words.
Ramattra's hand grabbed tightly to the back on Zenyatta's upper robe. He was shaking. He was going to stop this.
Zenyatta shoulder off his brother's grasp and the robe along with it, leaving him in only his pants and the red cloth he'd kept tied around his waist.
Stepping into the ring, Zenyatta stood wide and placed his palm against the human's, keeping their gaze locked.
"If you win, I'll leave. Permanently. And I'll tell every human I meet they're not welcome here." Emile spoke evenly, despite the rapid pulse Zenyatta could feel coming from their freezing fleshy hand.
He tilted his head in amusement, "And what will you get if you happen to win?"
This was the sort of confrontation that would usually draw this particular human to tears, so it was quiet the shock to see him hold together while speaking. "You can decide that when it happens."
'When' Zenyatta thought on, wrapping his fingers around the human's small hand. It was cold, and soft, and easily crushable in even the flimsiest of Omnic hands.
"Usually a match is called when one is forced from the ring, but that feels a touch too easy, wouldn't you agree?" The human nodded along with Zenyatta's proposal, "So we keep going until one of us taps, agreed?"
Zenyatta watch the human give a small nod once more
And then kicked them as hard as he could right in the stomach
Emile flew out of the ring, scratching to a stop along the stone flooring. He hacked and coughed, gripping onto his stomach. If he'd eaten anything for the past few days he surly would have hurled it up.
"Get up." Zenyatta spoke from the ring. The human did as commanded, pulling himself up on shaky legs. He did not glare at Zenyatta for landing the first blow, he did not look on in fear for how much stronger his opponent was, he did not bask in awe at how mighty a kick it was. He kept his neutral expression.
And that pissed Zenyatta off worse than anything else.
Blow after blow, the human continued to get back up. Even after he'd started spitting up blood. Even after his glasses were shattered on the stone ground, rendering him near blind. Even after he'd stopped being able to feet his fingers in toes in the cold and after his arm stopped moving and after his ankle had made such a horrible crack and swollen to the size of an orange.
And even after Zenyatta still stood perfectly pristine.
Emile hadn't landed a blow on his opponent. Zenyatta was starting to doubt he was even trying to. Had he even raised his hand once to the monk? Had all he done was stand there and take Zenyatta's blows?
Zenyatta clenched his fists, "Get Up." He demanded, as he had over and over again, to the human laying still on the stone before him. "Get Up and Hit Me."
Emile's form shook as he pushed himself up with only one arm, his white hair dangling before his face, tips red from his own blood. As commanded he got up on shaky legs once more and looked to Zenyatta with those red eyes that pierced into his history, a history he'd been trying so hard to ignore, to hide and run away from.
"Get up." Zenyatta demanded again after landing a hard hit right into the human's nose. It was broken for sure.
Emile did as commanded.
"Brother, that is enough-" Ramattra reached to grab Zenyatta, to put an end to this, but stopped inches away.
"It's not enough..."
The human's voice was ragged, breathless and broken and shaking. He sounded on the brink of death.. He very well might have been.
"It's not... enough...."
Blood mixed with tears down Emile's face, big wet eyes stared at Zenyatta, making the Omnic hesitate.
Ramattra wouldn't dare touch a human, but he made a motion like he was going to either way, "Human you cannot take much more, please just call it-"
"I CAN'T." Emile's voice cracked, he coughed, and took a step just to keep himself from collapsing, "I can't... it's not... enough... yet...."
The human but his hand on his wrist, and Zenyatta found himself mimicking the motion. His finger tips touched delicately at his exposed arm wire, one of many fragile pieces of himself he'd been forced to show to the world after nearly loosing his life before coming here.
He could still feel the human's cold finger tips on it...
"it's not... enough... to... ma...ke up.. for what... i..."
His body was too heavy, everything hurt, and the world was spinning.. In his last few moments of consciousness Emile braced himself for one more cold embrace from the stone steps of the battle field..
And instead found warmth...
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