Cornerstone Characterisation
A collection of fics that get a character so right that I would recommend them to somebody who has never encountered the source material as a guide to understanding that character. Frequently these works have given me new headcanons simply because their characterisation is good enough that it not only follows canon, but enhances it.
(Open, Moderated)
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Recoms were born into the world for a purpose. Ressurected to fight endlessly, to kill indiscriminately, to win Pandora for humanity by any means necessary.
They did not succeed.
This is what happens after.
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Artificial Intelligence can not factor for Human Spontaneity.
Machines cannot hold places of power.
Yassen Gregorovich must be human after all.Or
A study in the slow re-humanization of Yassen Gregorovich -
In Aporia by mellish
Fandoms: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
25 Nov 2017
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Genuinely asking: if you knew your brother was into snakes, and stupid besides, how could you not use that to your advantage? Loki character study, mostly post-Ragnarok.
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Imagine a boot. Imagine the leather and laces, the stink of mud clinging to its sole. Imagine pressing it against their faces. You know who. You don’t have to imagine them. They always exist. Imagine the softness of their cheeks against your heel. Imagine the mud rubbed in their eyes. Imagine how they whimper. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
Imagine showing them how sorry they are.
In the void between worlds, there's not much to do besides fall and think. Loki does plenty of both.
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In the intake room, he says to the nurse, “I mean I work in a kitchen for chrissake. I eat all the goddamn time.”
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Imagine a boot. Imagine the leather and laces, the stink of mud clinging to its sole. Imagine pressing it against their faces. You know who. You don’t have to imagine them. They always exist. Imagine the softness of their cheeks against your heel. Imagine the mud rubbed in their eyes. Imagine how they whimper. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
Imagine showing them how sorry they are.
In the void between worlds, there's not much to do besides fall and think. Loki does plenty of both.
- Language:
- English
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- 1,033
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- 1/1
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- 1
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- 21
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Bookmarked by mayfriend
08 Sep 2018
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Imagine a throne.
(Loki certainly does.)
Build it in your mind. Steel. Gold. Ermine. Plush. Feathers. Spikes. Get creative. There’s no wrong answer. Have fun with it.
(Here in the void between worlds, there aren’t many other ways of passing the time. Loki makes his own fun.)
All that matters is that it sits taller than everyone else around it. In a pinch, you can sit in a normal chair and make everyone else kneel.
Imagine a throne. Imagine it's not yours. Not yet.
What wouldn’t you do to sit in it? Be honest. What wouldn’t you do?
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Lana Lang had found her destiny elsewhere, and maybe that was best for everyone after all.
Bookmarked by mayfriend
22 Nov 2019
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In the last few months it seemed like an invisible weight had been lifted from Clark's shoulders. He carried himself differently, no longer stooped slightly as if ashamed of his height, trying to be eye-to-eye with someone much smaller; but upright, shoulders squared, strong enough to bear all the burdens of the world.
It was as if Lana, leaving, had taken with her the chains of those awkward high school years, freeing Clark to become his true self. Martha might have felt guilty for being grateful she was gone, if the postcards didn't always sound so happy. Lana had found her own destiny. Martha didn't miss her, to her own surprise, felt no nostalgia for the girl she had watched grow up. When she thought of the grown woman now, it was hard to even picture her face. Large, shining eyes; the pretty oval shape—even in photographs, her beauty seemed like a stranger's, unfamiliar. She remembered she had once loved Lana like a daughter, but there was so little to remember her by now.
Chloe's passion always left a vivid impression. Pete's steadfast friendship Martha missed even now, wishing Clark had someone so practical and loyal beside him in these trying times. And Lex—she wouldn't have thought she would, but it bothered her sometimes, to think he would never turn up on the porch again, smiling that sly, too-young smile. Such an odd and striking young man; whatever he was now, he had once intruded into their home and carved a space there, such that his absence left a hole no one else could fit into.
But Lana had made hardly a mark, not on Smallville. Some days Martha forgot the Talon had been her project, had almost forgotten that sweet and determined young woman. She had become more beautiful as she had grown up, quieter and sadder, and the pain had only made her more lovely. Though now, Martha could not remember what Lana had looked like on her wedding day. She could remember the feeling of gazing at exquisite beauty, but not what she had actually seen, no details of the bride's face or dress; only a smeared ideal, as if someone had wiped a sponge over the painting of that day in her memory.
When Lana had been around, her brilliant and lovely light had drawn everyone to her; but now that she was gone, it was as if the lantern were extinguished, so they had to look up and see the stars again to find their way by.
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At the eleventh breath, Baku asks, “Do you want to run away together?”
Blood trickles down Baekjin’s ring finger as he tears his hyponychium apart. Everything is ringing. But he can’t feel anything beyond the pain of something that throbs and soars beneath his ribs, like someone pried open his sternum and gouged that organ free and worshipped it like the sun.
Baekjin looks at Baku as if he did it, but Baku isn’t looking at him.
Bookmarked by mayfriend
20 Jul 2025
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Na Baekjin doesn’t really dream. But when he does, he dreams of Humin. He always, always dreams of Humin.
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walk through fire for what's important by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters
Fandoms: Avatar (Cameron Movies), James Cameron's Avatar - All Media Types
06 Mar 2023
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She wonders if she has ever existed outside of this moment: this boy heaving for air in her grip, the knife bright like a fallen star, the bloody deck humming under her feet. Maybe everything before was just a story she's told herself; maybe this is all that really matters.
____Flames, steel, and a ship hurtling toward a watery grave. Neytiri just wants to save whatever she has left.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,589
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 3
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- 45
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Bookmarked by mayfriend
07 Mar 2023
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The knife blade is heavier than a mountain in her hand, the fire roars through her skull, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that that shouting is Quaritch screaming No at the top of his lungs. He sounds like he's in pain, truly in pain, for the first time since they've crossed paths.
Neytiri looks at him, sees the knife he's holding in the air just as she holds hers. They face each other over the bodies of their children, cracked mirrors, burning in the flames reflected through one another's eyes.
She wonders if she has ever existed outside of this moment: this boy heaving for air in her grip, the knife bright like a fallen star, the bloody deck humming under her feet. Maybe everything before was just a story she's told herself; maybe this is all that really matters.
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Reginald keeps telling him his emotions need to be like a brick wall, strong and secure so that the creature can’t get past unless he allows it to. Ben doesn’t know what more he can do. He trains daily, attempting breath control and distancing himself from extreme emotions. He walks around like a tense wire, shoulders high and rigid, lest he make a sudden move and the creature moves with him. The other day, Allison had taken one look at him and told him he needed a massage.
Ben can’t think of a single thing that's a worse idea than to let himself fully relax around other people.
Bookmarked by mayfriend
18 May 2022
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Years later, Ben watches his siblings from behind Klaus’ shoulder, and thinks of all the things he wants to say. There was so much he didn’t say when he was alive, opting instead for keeping the peace, and now he feels like he saved his breath for nothing. After everything, he’d still held onto an expectation for the rest of them. Still somehow thought they’d be the better people he thought they were when they were teenagers. He vouches for Luther’s character after he hurts Klaus. He convinces Klaus that Luther is worth following, worth protecting, but then Klaus dies, or un-dies, or whatever, and Ben is left fuming. He can’t make sense of it. Luther is a good man. Luther is misguided, and naïve, and believed every word their dad said, but he cared for all of them. He shouldn’t have left Klaus there to die, but he did. Ben’s sure he’s not even fully aware it happened.
He’s used to holding everything inside of him, but he fantasizes about letting it all out. Yelling at Luther for how he treated Klaus and Vanya, at Five for disappearing and not coming back sooner. Telling off Diego for being self-righteous, and Allison for being so selfish. He thinks about saying all the things Klaus doesn’t say, too, because while Klaus is all sleight of hand where Ben is evasion, they both make a habit of not telling the whole truth.
He practices what he would say over and over in his head, listening to their conversations and compiling two lifetimes of evidences. He imagines punching Luther across the face, thinks maybe it’ll be a bit like striking his father, too. Revels in the shock it will be to them all, to see him again for the first time in thirteen years just for him to set them straight. He’s sick of just watching the deluge of miscommunication. They don’t know what it’s like to not be able to communicate at all.
He waits for his opportunity, the fantasy blooming into a full-fledged plan once he and Klaus discover they can make him corporeal. He builds and builds in his anger, and his resentment, and all the things he’s never gotten the chance to say.
But then he’s standing in front of them all, emanating blue and power and half-life, and he freezes. The fight drains out of him like it was never there. He looks around at the room, realizing how much he missed them all, and thinks he could be a coward for one more day. He looks at Klaus, face open in questioning, and then to his family, eyes steeped in wonder, and he doesn’t say anything at all.