[Inside of Atem, two sets of instincts are at war.
One is driving his heartbeat, and it's out for blood, but also it recognizes that wounds need treatment, and burns bad enough to blister and bleed shouldn't be left alone. It wants to get Ryou to confirm his attacker's identity, call in Lust or Hawkeye or Giorno or Doppio, and get the burns cleaned and dressed while Atem makes the demon pour boiling salt water down its own throat. It's the part of Atem that climbed out of the school nurse's window while Anzu was crying, the part with a drive to fix the problem over giving comfort. Treat the cause, not the symptom. Protect, then retreat. Life after the fight, the spoils of war, aren't for you.
The other part of him, the part that's grown in Ryslig, recognizes another need here, besides the one for revenge, and medical treatment. It recognizes an emotional need, sees that Ryou is distressed and ashamed, that Ryou doesn't want practicality and physical optimization, but wants to not be alone.
How does he meet all these needs at once?
Atem's chest rises and falls as his breathing comes quick, as he's torn. Some of the snakes, especially the yellow ones closest to his face, turn their little heads back towards Ryou, fixing their eyes on him again. The others are still unfocused, but they aren't still; there's an occasional little hiss, a threatening opened mouth, hoods flaring here and there.
(How does he make his enemies say his name with the kind of fear people say Amanda, Aunamee, AM with?)
Atem feels like his heart is bubbling up, ready to boil over at any second. There is so much he has to do. He doesn't doubt for a second that he's capable, but the order is what's tricky.
What does he do?]
You should...take your medicine. And...I'll call someone, to come here, and treat that.
[Breathe in. Breathe out. His thoughts are like a dozen balanced spinning plates, but -- one step at a time. One turn at a time. He doesn't have to move yet. He'll figure this out.]
cw violent fantasies of mouth/throat horror!
One is driving his heartbeat, and it's out for blood, but also it recognizes that wounds need treatment, and burns bad enough to blister and bleed shouldn't be left alone. It wants to get Ryou to confirm his attacker's identity, call in Lust or Hawkeye or Giorno or Doppio, and get the burns cleaned and dressed while Atem makes the demon pour boiling salt water down its own throat. It's the part of Atem that climbed out of the school nurse's window while Anzu was crying, the part with a drive to fix the problem over giving comfort. Treat the cause, not the symptom. Protect, then retreat. Life after the fight, the spoils of war, aren't for you.
The other part of him, the part that's grown in Ryslig, recognizes another need here, besides the one for revenge, and medical treatment. It recognizes an emotional need, sees that Ryou is distressed and ashamed, that Ryou doesn't want practicality and physical optimization, but wants to not be alone.
How does he meet all these needs at once?
Atem's chest rises and falls as his breathing comes quick, as he's torn. Some of the snakes, especially the yellow ones closest to his face, turn their little heads back towards Ryou, fixing their eyes on him again. The others are still unfocused, but they aren't still; there's an occasional little hiss, a threatening opened mouth, hoods flaring here and there.
(How does he make his enemies say his name with the kind of fear people say Amanda, Aunamee, AM with?)
Atem feels like his heart is bubbling up, ready to boil over at any second. There is so much he has to do. He doesn't doubt for a second that he's capable, but the order is what's tricky.
What does he do?]
You should...take your medicine. And...I'll call someone, to come here, and treat that.
[Breathe in. Breathe out. His thoughts are like a dozen balanced spinning plates, but -- one step at a time. One turn at a time. He doesn't have to move yet. He'll figure this out.]