bakerstreet | did you mean: "i hate myself and never want to be happy. ever. i understand only pain."

[OOC: Since he remembers his last seven lives, he subsequently remembers the last seven lives he had with his soulmate and having to lose them. As a result, Zak will be 1. clingy 2. open to substantial age and power gaps because he's lost his true love too many times to be picky, and 3. be entirely willing to overlook the pain.

Also since it's canonical that it's very rare for people to remember their past lives at all in his world, there's some angst/fluff/plot to be wrung out of him remembering all their past lives together while his soulmate very much does not.]

[Bring the pain. He'll take it to be loved.]

It had lasted a second, maybe two. But as soon as Peter stopped Loki's fist mid-air he could have sworn that that brief moment had turned practically into a lifetime. He'd never felt that sort of pain before. It had been so strong and acute they had both been practically knocked down on their asses, the rest of the team taking the chance to jump on Loki and finally subdue him.

Nobody had noticed, they had not been close enough to see. But even as they cuffed Thor's brother, Peter had seen the look of shock on the villain's face. The creeping fear and understanding Peter himself was going through.

The next few days had been a nightmare. Peter could barely sleep, he'd lost his appetite and could barely concentrate. May had encouraged him to skip a couple of days of school, worrying he might have caught something.

She had no idea.

It was almost two weeks later when Peter finally decided he could no longer keep it to himself. What if he got it wrong? What if Loki had put some sort of Asgardian curse on him? He'd dedided to visit the Avengers Compound, pretending to want to catch up with the team, to be eager for a new mission. It wasn't long before he was sneaking through corridors he knew were supposedly off limits. But Vision had not even suspected his plans when he casually asked where Loki's cell could be found.

Quietly, he stepped into the room, slipping on his mask to keep his identity protected.

"Mr. Loki?" He asked, touching the glass between them.

If there was one thing Loki was getting used to, it was getting ten bells knocked out of him by the Avengers. That's all he'd thought it was to start; Thor hitting him with a lightning bolt; Stark with his repulsors; Hulk getting lucky with those meaty fingers and pinching a nerve just the right way; maybe even this spider-guy had the ability to shock him on contact. But as he lay back on the concrete and waited for the rest of the Avengers to hit overkill while he was down, Loki had a moment to reflect.

He'd never felt a pain like it before, and he'd felt so may different types of pain in this life. This one was unique. He'd felt fused to that hand blocking his fist, the frizzling, searing of atoms shared between them.

Incarceration was the pinnacle of torture. For every ten minute interrogation session there was at least twelve hours of being left alone with his thoughts, and it was never the guy in red and blue with the arachnid stamped on his chest that came to interrogate him. Loki knew what that incredible, crippling pain on contact would have meant on Asgard, but did they have it here on Midgard? Did they have soulmates, or did they just mate around like thoughtless beasts? Was it a fluke, or a mistake?

... A spider, though... And webs... It seemed so appropriate. But no-one wanted to talk about this Spider-Man when Loki tried to turn the questioning, tried to negotiate. Stark and Rogers both especially looked like they wanted to murder him in their own unique ways when he tried asking about him.

Clearly, he had been mistaken.

Or so he thought, until a soft, polite voice addressed him. Loki looked up, surprised anyone would be so respectful.

"It's you." He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, far too eager for his own good. His fingers curled around the edge of the frame, a different pain in his chest. "It was a neat trick, knocking me down like that."

A neat trick.

Peter didn't know if he ought to be relieved or disappointed. Confusion washed over him again as he wondered. Was this an Earthly thing and Loki had really no idea? Was he just outright bringing that up because he knew? If he was believing his own words then it would still make sense to bring it up first thing.

"Yeah. Yeah, I..." What? He's not even sure of what he wants to say, what to ask. This guy, the one who attacked New York more than once now, he'd... Hurt so many people, he sure cannot be his...

"You used your magic, didn't you? You did something to me." It had to be the only answer. And Peter was aware he probably doesn't have much time. He can't waste his questions. "Please tell me. I need to know."

Yeah. So it was a device in his suit? But the Spider-Man doesn't sound sure himself. Loki's gaze shifted from the masked face to the hand pressed against the glass. It was a weirdly intimate gesture, not one for accusations and interrogation.

"My magic? What do you think I did?" Slowly, he stood up and started to walk towards the glass. This Avenger sounded less sure of himself, less firm than the others, maybe less experienced. He'd probably be easy to manipulate, yet Loki's mind was set on finding answers.

"Why would I do something that would result in my ending up in here?"

Reaching the glass, he put his hand against it too, over the other man's. Nothing happened, of course, the glass was too thick. Loki stared into those milky eye lenses, but he could see nothing past them.

The gesture surprises him. And even though he shouldn't feel any worry as there's no chances he'll get stunned again, it's a knee-jerk reaction to pull his hand away once Loki's seems to be ready to merge with his own.

Peter's lenses shift, widening as its sensors almost emulate the muscles on the boy's face tensing. He right away looks downwars, pretending to be distracted by pulling up the zipper of his green parka jacket.

"Maybe you made a mistake. It wouldn't be the first time."

What's he saying? His mouth moves before he can think things through.

"You like, shocked me and it backfired."

It stings, in his chest, the way the other man pulls away. But that shouldn't be surprising if he's afraid of being hurt again. Loki takes his hand away, sliding it down the glass slightly before removing it.

"Did it feel like I shocked you?" he follows the other's movement, reading it for the awkwardness that it is. He knows. This must be something they have here too. He knows what that experience was, what it means.

His soulmate was on Midgard. An Avenger. How could he have ever taken an alternative path and found himself here otherwise?

"Because, believe me, with a brother like Thor I know very well what being shocked feels like, and it wasn't that. It felt like every single nerve ending was being wrung," he made fists and twisted them in opposite directions as if wringing out a cloth, "and branded with hot iron at the same time."

Loki's words practically forced Peter to look up again, just in time to watch him twists his fists. It was almost as if he was holding some invisible threads, because he could have sworn that at the same time his heart felt as if someone was squeezing it painfully. He felt as wounded as he did when they both touched hands and yet, it was different. This kind of pain lingered.

He knew Thor's brother had a way with words. He'd given enough villainous monologues in the short time he'd faced the Avengers. And now? He was putting those sensations Peter had experienced into the most perfect of descriptions. There was no way Loki had not experienced it himself.

Why Loki? Why of all the people in the universe it has to be a criminal? Someone everyone he knows hates? Why can't it be a cute girl at school?

"You did that." But it's not magic. Or, if it is, it has to be something ancient, older than both humans and Asgardians alike. "It's some spell."

It has to be.

"Maybe," Loki agreed, "but not by my doing. There is an ancient tale in Asgard of a jilted being, jealous of young lovers, so he put a curse on the starcrossed so they could never be with their beloveds without feeling the pain that he felt in his rejection."

He watched carefully the reactions of the Midgardian in front of him. Master as he was at reading body language, he couldn't gauge a true sense without seeing his expressions.

"Do you have a similar tale here to explain why soulmates should be forced to suffer so? I've never known pain like it..."

He pressed his lips together for a moment. "You know my face. Would you at least let me see yours?"

There was no more running around it. This was exactly why Peter had come here, wasn't it? Answers. He wanted answers and Loki had provided them. The worst part of it all was that, it made sense. It was the one thing Peter had considered but tried not to face.

He had found his soulmate.

Fumbling distractedly with his jacket's sleeve, Peter spoke up quietly.

"There's some super old tales. Some--" He shouldn't be saying this, he shouldn't be playing along. "Some say that like super old gods cut people in half. So, when you find your old half, touching them reminds you of the pain you suffered when you were cut into two people. Like, opening a wound over and over again and stuff."

He had never experienced that kinda pain before. He was litterally knocked down by it. It's no wonder some people are totally against finding their other halves.

At the request, Peter's fingers immidiatly froze. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. The exact kinda thing why he had a secret identity. To keep bad guys from getting to him, to his family and friends and--

And Loki was a prisoner now. Trapped and guarded by the Avengers. For ever, maybe.

Trying not to overthink it anymore, Peter grabbed his mask by the very top and pulled it off.

It would be torture, knowing you've found your soulmate and speaking to them but never seeing their face. It... Wouldn't have been fair.

It seemed as likely a reason behind this pain as Loki's explanation. Either way it was a curse and it was unbearable and unfair, and the most sensible thing, given their many, many conflictions of interest, would be to agree to walk away and never address it again. Yet, he had come to Loki specifically to talk to him about it, and Loki had craved the same.

Despite the impossibility of it all, the thought that he'd touched his soulmate had given Loki a strange feeling inside these last couple of weeks in incarceration. Plenty didn't ever find their soulmates, and that was in general considered a good thing, rather than suffer the pain of knowing each other and not being able to touch. Plenty still fell in love and lived happy lives with partners.

But Loki had never truly expected to find love, never mind this.

He held his breath as this Spider-Man reached up and pulled his mask away. Underneath was the fresh face of a boy. A handsome boy. As face that Loki could already picture his mother sighing over and praising that her son could be so lucky to find.

Pressing his lips together again, this time biting them a little as well, Loki glanced down to his feet. His eyes flicked back up again first, then he lifted his chin a little. Through the soft amusement on his face, it could almost be read as a brief moment of shyness.

"Ah. I was expecting more sets of eyes."

Peter was speechless at first, his lips slightly parted and frozen in an unspoken question. Brown eyes searched the taller man, not quite believing how much his demeanor had changed, but mostly lost at the question.

Suddenly, realization hit him, his lips adopting an 'o' shape.

"Oh, no! I..." Almost against his will, he smiled. "Yeah, no, it's my madeup name. I... I crawl up walls and stuff. That's all." Well, not all completely, but the first reason why his mind had went back into that weird spider as soon as he started noticing his new abilities. "I'm-- I look totally human, yeah. I'm human. Just... Different."

It was okay sharing that, wasn't it? It was probably the most okay thing in this whole situation. It granted him a strange sense of gratification, the kind Peter knew. Like, meeting a friend and suddenly vomiting out everything you love about a new fandom you just got it. It could be addictive.

He actually wanted to talk to Loki now.

"Is this what you look like for real? Mr. Thor said you can change like, your clothes and how you look sometimes. With your magic."

It's okay. Like small talk.

"Human, just different," Loki repeated, a slight smile on his lips as he took in that face. He just looked so... He took a breath, tilting his head to the side almost imperceptibly. "If that's your made up name, what's your real name?"

So much power in giving a name, yet he felt like the power was all this other being's to hold over him. This was ridiculous. This was a curse. Not a gift.

"Yes, this is what I look like normally. I tidy myself up a little, but no different from you bathing or combing your hair or... " he looked at him curiously, as if he was trying to figure something out, "... shaving."

That wasn't it all, though was it. Loki didn't owe him anything, yet he wanted to.

"Ah, I mean, you know that I'm not from Asgard, originally?" He'd heard Thor declare how he was adopted before; a statement to distance himself from his brother's antics without fully disowning him nor denying his love for his family still. But how much had the dumb blond actually explained? "When the Odinfather found me as a babe he enchanted my appearance so that I would be accepted as his son. This is the face that I've grown with, that feels most me."

How much of that did Thor even know or understand himself?

"Ah... I don't think I'm allowed to say." Could he? One thing is to briefly show your face, but giving his name? Well, maybe just his first name. No. No, he's already in deep-shit if Mr. Stark of the others catch him or hear about him doing this. He's already super worried Vision might casually dropped this little conversation they'd had.

Or that Loki might. But, would they believe him?

"So, you don't really look like this right now? You're using magic to look good." Look good? "Look tidy and stuff." Why did he correct himself so quickly. It meant nothing. Everyone would understand 'looking good' as tidying oneself up. Peter, don't be stupid.

As Loki continued explaining himself, Peter was glad to be distracted from his own insecurities. "We read about your myths in school now. I mean, I guess we always did. But since Thor and you showed up these last years its like, almost mandatory. But I didn't know you were not born in Asgard." So he wore a mask himself? He looked different? He does understand exactly what Loki means, mentioning the face he feels the most comfortable with. Not having grown up with his own biological parents have taught Peter a thing or two about understanding where and who you belong with.

"I'm adopted too." He commented without thinking, not really considering he was sharing too much. "I mean, kinda. I didn't grow up with my parents, but with close family. They feel like my real parents anyway."

Is it weird, trying to point out that he feels they connect or undertand each other in some way? He's probably stretching it. For what he understands, they are in a totally different situation.

"Thor's said a lot of nice things about you. Even if, you know, we fought and stuff."

"Who says you're not allowed to say? Stark?" He wasn't going to push it, though, that would look like he wanted to use his name for some dark purpose when in truth he just wanted something shorter to fill his thoughts than 'Spider-Man'.

He took a step back. It wasn't just now, he often used a glamor to dress himself and tame his hair, but he was still fundamentally himself even then. He gestured about himself.

"Look around, I've been locked in a glass room with a bed, a sink and barely more than a chamber pot for two weeks. I have some pride still."

He didn't want to give his name, but he wanted to give other more intimate details about himself. Loki came up to the glass again, put his hand back against it.

"Yes, mine too." That was part of the problem, Odin was his father, but he wasn't in Loki's eyes a particularly good father. "I grew up with Thor as my brother. We've had disagreements in the past. That doesn't change our history. What do you want me to say, Spider-Man?"

"The whole superhero thing does, not just Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark himself doesn't hide his identity, but..." He often thought about that, considered if he would ever be allowed to be open like him. He'd seen it even in the news, about the time when he started doing friendly-neighborhood superheroing, how the UN was demanding heroes to come out of the closet, how some of the Avengers were willing to sign up some accords. "I have family and friends and if people who want to fight me knew my name they could get to them."

He dared meeting Loki's eyes again, aware that what he just described fitted the bill when it came to him. If he ever escaped this place, that is.

A tiny cell where he was exposed like an animal in a zoo. It was good that he could use his magic to keep a little bit of pride, Peter realized, pitying him. Without thinking his hand came up again, barely hesitating before he placed it right on the opposite side of the glass the Asgardian was touching. Loki's palm was larger than his own, his fingers long and elegant.

What does he want to say, he asks? What else is there to say or do? I things had been different Loki maybe could have come to Earth like Thor as a friend. Maybe he would have been an Avenger too. Maybe the fact that he's like a million years older than Peter wouldn't have been a big deal. Or maybe it would have been. He'd watched plenty of movies in which people find out they are soulmates and realize they are in the most inconveniet of situations.

All those movies seemed to be put to shame compared to what this was, really.

"I guess... I should probably go. I just wanted to know."

His chest aches, imagining what it would be like if there was no glass between them, no fear or disagreements between them.

What if they were just two people wanting to meet each other because they realize they are bonded for life? He still can't get over that sensation, that absiolute need to spill his whole lifestory out. To want to make a million questions and get to know Thor's brother-- His soulmate. Get to know him better.

"I'm sorry."

"I understand," he made a soft noise, a cross between a sigh and a hum. "It's the smart thing to do, really. Its good that you have loved ones you want to protect. I wouldn't trust me, either."

A twitch at the corner of his mouth as he pressed his lips together again in some kind of melancholy. He stared at Peter's face openly, their eyes meeting through the ghost reflection in the glass of his own face. His little finger twitched against the glass, curling up against itself as if he'd reflexedly tried to stroke it over Peter's finger.

"I'm not going to keep thinking of you as 'Spider-man', though. Its hard to think fondly of people that want to kick your ass. I'm going to call you Varmeøyne."

That smile was tight at he nodded and stepped away. His hand pulled back and dropped to his side.

"Yes. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry, too."

He was given a name, a new name. Words he could not comprehend, but Peter heard clearly the affection as they were pronounced. It hurt more than it should and for several conflicted reasons. "Then what should I call you?" He narrowed this eyes, speaking up louder than he had so far. "You also tried to kick my ass. And hurt people I care for. Hurt people in this planet."

Shaking his head, Peter stepped back. He turned away and didn't look back, aware that that meeting had been a mistake.

And yet, for days and nights he couldn't stop thinking about it. What hurt the most was that, it haunted him, the name he did not understand and he could no longer even remember. It chased after him, like a ghost.

Two more weeks passed, before he realized he could no longer live with those questions. He could not longer ignore the thorn that kept driving deeper into his heart with each passing day. That's the thing about the truth. It's not something you can get rid of. And now that he knew of this bond, how could he forget?

Maybe he ought to know him better, to be reminded of all the reasons why forgetting would eventually come natural to him. That's what Peter kept telling himself as he avoided the little security guarding the corridors towards Loki's cell. The tech did a better job than men could, Mr. Stark probably considered. He wasn't wrong.

"Mr. Loki?"

It wasn't really a surprise. Of course his soulmate couldn't bare to speak to him, and hated him with the same fire that Loki himself used to burn everything good in his life and world.

It hurt. It ached more than every other pain he'd felt, more than the pain when their hands met. His Varmeøyne had rejected him. Food had no taste and if anyone but Thor noticed that Loki wasn't eating, they didn't care. Only his brother came to sit with him, to talk and encourage Loki not to give up, that there would be an end in sight and if he could just prove to them that he could change his ways...

Thor didn't understand, but he wasn't wrong. The problem remained: How could Loki show he was changed from this cell? And could he actually change anyway? No, probably not.

He was thinner when Varmeøyne returned. More beaten, by his own hand. But his attention perked at the voice, at the strange formal address. He looked from the wall he was sitting against, across the cell at the boy.

"Did you find a name to call me?"

Peter's lips parted slightly, the sound barely perceptible, but for someone with senses as enhaced as his and in a room as quiet at Loki's cell he might as well ahve just stomped his foot to the ground.

He couldn't lie, he wouldn't. There was something really saddening about the question, and that was that Peter could feel it both as a jab as some last streak of hope.

Peter shook his head, approaching the cell like he had two weeks ago. Loki looked so different. Even more disheveled than he had when the battle ended. He was almost a completely different person, a shadow of the once already beaten man he'd met. It was as if he had completely given up.

Searching in his pocket, Peter pulled out a small crumpled paper bag full of something that barely fitted in his hand. The bulge had been visible on his jacket's pocket, but luckily nobody had paid enough attention to ask. Not that the contents would have worried them.

"I brought you something."

At least he didn't call him a monster or a murderer, he supposed. In this case, the silence could only be a blessing. He'd returned, but not to tell Loki just how much he hated him. Not yet at least.

He craned his neck curiously as he pulled out the paper bag. He brought him a present?

Slowly, not just because movement tired him out more now, he got to his feet and moved closer. It could be a trick. His match was young, and he was his match, afterall. Why would he expect him to be anything other than cruel, especially when it was clear in Loki's mind that he thought him inferior.

"What is it?"

Peter had considered this carefully. The day the fought, his suit got teared up. Not terribly so, but later he had spotted the small cut on his hand. Probably the reason why he had found his soulmate, the reason why their skin had met and their connection became painfully obvious. Literally.

Today, under his clothes, Peter had decided to wear his suit. It wasn't a big deal, it granted him an easier access through the compound too. But it also, now that his suit was fixed, covered him from neck to toes.

"Mr. Thor said you were not eating."

On his last visit, Peter had noticed a slit on the large mettalic door that sealed Loki's cell. A button next to it. Peter approached it, wondering if his guess was right. Pushing the button, the glass door slid open like the door of a supermarket, but it quickly shut. Not enough to chop his hand off, which was reassuring. Specially not with the rubber on its end. Moments later, holding the button, Peter realized that it stayed open.

So, even if wearing gloves wasn't enough and touching did get him hurt... Yeah, he wouldn't lose a hand. Hopefully.

Or Loki wouldn't enchant him or anything.

Taking a deep breath, he pressed and held the button again, this time slidding his hand through the door and holding the packet of sweets and dry fruits for Loki to take.

Slowly, Loki followed his movements. He watched with curiosity how he figured out how to operate the hatch. Thor had told him that he wasn't eating? Was that down to his brother being so concerned about him, or that Varmeøyne was asking after him?

"You probably shouldn't be doing that." He stared at the hand for a moment. Perhaps if he was feeling stronger... But no, he knew that was an idle thought. He wouldn't have done anything.

He took the bag, his fingers grazing the other's, half expecting more searing pain and surprised when it didn't happen. He looked at him through the glass and then stepped back as he was supposed to in these situations.

Crinkling the bag a little, he looked at the contents. "Food?" His eyes darted up, big and wide.

"You care that I'm not eating?"

As soon as Loki's fingers approached his hand, Peter held his breath. He was half expecting his theory to blow on him. After all, all that pain because barely a few inches of skin contacted each other?

But no, that was it. For the briefest of moments he felt the weight of his soulmate's hand on his. Which made him wonder, how much does it hurt for soulmates when they dare kiss? Hug each other? It seemed impossible.

"It's not much, but I figured it would help?" He shrugged. Some I know you had at Asgard, some are Earth sweets that I like." Did it sound so unbelievable to think he'd care enough? "Your brother is super worried. And I don't want you to like, starve yourself."

He looked up, meeting Loki's gaze.

"I'm Peter."

He was confused to say the least. There had been a painful kind of venom in his soulmate's parting words when he last left. Not just painful to Loki, but he could tell painful for the boy too. But he cared enough to be worried about Thor's worry, to be concerned himself. Was this why he came back? As a favor to Thor?

But then, unexpectedly, he gave another gift too. One that would not help ease Thor's troubles. One for Loki himself.

"Peter?" His face stayed blank for a second, the twisting inside of him still turning but now growing a little softer, warmer. Pleasant. "Oh."

Then he smiled, just a light thing, but it made his face seem much less worn. Somehow Loki's hair smoothed out a little, his skin warmed. He stepped towards the glass. "Thank you. Will you stay a while and talk, Peter?"

Offering a little smile, the boy nodded, still feeling a bit uncomfortable in his own skin with the situation, but finding himself eager to do just that. Taking a moment to talk, hoping this could change something. Believing maybe even someone like Loki is not completely lost. That he might give him an answer over why he did the things he did.

"You should probably throw away the bag later, like to the toilet or something." They shouldn't leave any signs of people visiting him.

Sitting down on the floor, Peter crossed his legs, looking up as he waited for Loki to join him.

"You called me a name the last time. I... Didn't get what that meant. I can't even remember it."

Moving as close to the glass as he could while still being comfortable, Loki sank down to the floor, cross legged and mirroring Peter. Peter. Somehow it was more special than the name that he'd given him, even though it was a name that others had the pleasure of using as well.

He looked at the bag, not understanding what the boy meant about disposing of it later, but he nodded in agreement anyway. He opened it up and found some nuts and popped them into his mouth, his failed appetite almost forgotten.

"Oh. Varmeøyne? It's Asgardian." He gazed at Peter's face, at his eyes a moment. "It means 'Warm Eyes'. It's not the most creative, but I didn't have much to go on and they struck me..."

He paused and gave him a quick smile, acknowledging that he was rambling. "Did you think of a name for me at all, or do I not want to know the answer?"

A wave of relief washed over him as Loki begun going through the bag, instantly picking on one of the snacks he had brought him like he had never lost his appetite, like his brother had brought up in clear distress. Maybe this really did help? Maybe he'll start eating his meals properly from now on?

"Warm Eyes?" The name echoed in the room and for a moment, Peter was left uncharacteristically speechless. In Loki's ears it might not sound all that original, but it was almost as if Peter had never heard a compliment in his life before. His heart beated as if something in his chest was fluttering, struggling to escape out already.

"Huh, not really. I mean, it's kinda hard to forget your real name."

What was the name Loki gave him again? Can he google what 'warm eyes' is in Asgardian?

"I was distracted thinking about what to do. If I wanted to see you again or not. And then I heard about you not doing well here and, well--" He shrugged. "Do they treat you well, at least? Does someone else come to see you?"

[ Love romance, fluff, and angst.]

[ I'm willing to play an AU straight up for this or an AU deviation from canon.

For the latter, Higurashi full spoilers: I like the idea of Rika finding out her soulmate sent her into a timeloop hell. ]

did you mean: "i hate myself and never want to be happy. ever. i understand only pain."

Caleb Widogast | Critical Role | m/m

Zakariya Hadra | Drowned God | OTA

Loki of Asgard // MCU // OTA

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junpei tenmyouji | zero escape | m/f

rin sohma | fruits basket | m/f

zelda | breath of the wild/age of calamity | m/f

kazami tachibana | root double | m/f

iris | ace attorney | m/f

Shen Wei | Guardian | M/M

Nico Acosta | OC | M/F

Evie Montgomery | OC | OTA

Xiao Xingchen|The Untamed|ota

wanda maximoff | mcu

rika furude / higurashi no naku koro ni ( ota )

Jyn Erso | Rogue One | OTA

Cassia Andor | Rogue One | OTA

Essa Erso-Andor | Rogue One OC | OTA

Cassian Andor | Rogue One | OTA

Rey | Star Wars | OTA

Ben Solo | Star Wars | OTA