#i wonder when/if he starts accepting his identity and speaking to the others about it

[good-beanswrites]

So. It turns out I can't read. Have a random drabble of Mikoto + Tears because I misread one of the requests asdfds (featuring the smoking group :)) I thought of some juicy drama, but I'll admit his situation may not be as dramatic as this lol, just a thought about his emotions I was toying around with.

It had taken a bit of time, persuading, and bribery, but Mikoto reluctantly showed up to the smoking group’s next session. He looked like shit compared to them, but neither seemed to care.

Though he tried to refuse, they’d given him refills for his e-cigarette so he could participate. Shidou claimed he was quitting, but he didn’t strike Mikoto as the type to stop cold turkey. He stayed quiet most of the time, listening to the usual stories of days gone by.

Shidou asked about Kazui’s recent interrogation. Mikoto would have rather spoken about literally anything besides their situation as prisoners and murderers, but Kazui’s unlikely honesty caught his attention. The man admitted to getting rather worked up in front of Es, nearly to the point of tears.

Rather than offer any sort of comfort, Shidou chose to list off the benefits of crying in response. 

“It actually releases stress hormones,” he was saying, “and has been linked to better sleep, improved immune systems, and balance within your nervous system.”

Mikoto shared a smirk with Kazui, the cigarette angling between his lips. He wasn’t as quick as he thought.

“And what is that face for?” Shidou turned to him. “I do hope you’re not one of those types who think men shouldn’t cry. I’m sure you have plenty of times. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Mikoto was going to drop it; he wasn’t one of those people, after all. Unexpected thoughts struck him before he could dismiss the accusations. The rapid emotions that flashed over his face had the others waiting for his reply.

“Actually… uh…” He let out a nervous laugh. “I just realized, I haven’t. You know, h-” Mikoto’s voice faltered. It felt strange, speaking about the situation so casually. But he could trust these men. They’d never turned against him, or flinched away from him, even when the others had. Regardless, he was going to have to acknowledge it eventually.

“...He’s the one that gets to cry.”

The others stayed silent. Kazui took another drag. It wasn’t like it was a secret anymore, but he was sure that neither had come prepared for a conversation like this. Wisps of smoke slowly circled them.

"Whenever I got upset, he was there. If anything brought me to tears, then he… took care of it.” Not that Mikoto ever knew it was happening. In hindsight, it was maddeningly obvious how his blackouts corresponded to rough times. 

His breath shook the next time he inhaled. He took a pause. He had to stay calm. The line had been thin, these days, for when emotions would prove intense enough to send him over the edge. With all the underlying stress, even the most minor inconveniences could cause him to lose control.

The vapor he blew out left a trembly trail in front of him. He tried to sound lighthearted, but knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“I guess I always thought I was one of those guys who didn’t cry as much, or got less worked up about things. My coworkers always talked about breakdowns. I never had a single one. I didn’t really dwell on it. Why would I?” His smile was as wobbly as the laugh that bubbled out of him. “So, uh… I guess you were wrong, Shidou. I can’t remember the last time I shed a single tear.”

It didn’t take a doctor to know the kind of toll that takes on someone. 

Mikoto dropped his head, suddenly ashamed of his honesty. He must have sounded completely insane. He ran a hand through his hair. They were probably looking on with horror at what a mess he’d revealed himself to be. 

“I should go,” he muttered. He was already pretty upset and couldn’t risk hurting anyone else.

Shidou placed his hand gently on his arm. He didn’t look horrified in the slightest. Neither did Kazui. “Wait...”

He shrugged his arm away. “Leave me alone.”

“Mikoto.”

He paused only a moment in the entryway, as Kazui called to him.

“Thanks. I know it's not easy to talk about your true self.”

He wanted to accept it. He wanted to stay and keep talking and laughing as if nothing were wrong. He wanted to thank them for their kindness. But he couldn’t allow himself the luxury, now. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters.”

“It does.” Shidou told him. “Mikoto, I know things have been difficult. We just want to help you.”

“Yeah,” he said bitterly. The smoke shifted in his wake. “That’s what he said, too.”

[stars4gojo]

End of the world

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // Young Megumi and young Tsumiki // 1k words // fluff, angst if you squint. // Gojo and y/n are both teachers for first years

Your and Gojo’s three students are confused as to see why you and Gojo are walking past each other like you aren’t in love with each other as Megumi recalls yours and Gojo’s first serious fight infront of him.

More of my work 🤍

The three first year students at jujutsu high watched as their two teachers walked past each other as if they’ve never known each other. The usual silly jokes and overbearing affection between the two of you was nowhere to be seen and there was no doubt that the student were being wary of you two. 

Your usual kind demeanour was replaced by a cold hard stare that only seemed to show around Gojo. 

The students were not strangers to your bickering or little arguments but this one seemed different, as if someone had sucked all the warmth and love from the room only to replace it with heartbreak and angst. 

Nobara and yuuji quickly made their way to Megumi to ask him to explain why their two teachers, who seemed perfectly fine yesterday, were ignoring each other.

“Hey Megumi, what’s been going on with gojo and y/n?” Nobara whispered covering one side of her face with her hand as to prevent you and Gojo from overhearing.

“I’ve got no idea, I’ve never really seen them act this way either.” Megumi replied with a shrug.

“I’ve never really ever seen them fight this seriously either but they’re too in love with each other to let one fight end it.. right…?” Yuuji added with a slight frown on his face. 

“Well..There was this one time, a really long time ago where they both had a horrible fight.“ Megumi spoke softly putting emphases on the word ‘really.’

He looked over to Nobara and Yuuji who had an identically shocked face.

“I mean, I know not every relationship is rainbows and unicorns but really how bad was it?” Nobara spoke as her shocked impression settled down.

“I was really young back then so I can’t really remember the details but…” Megumi started speaking as his mind went back to that one night. 

Megumi recalls how one night, Gojo came home late, later than usual. He remembers how when you were preparing him and Tsumiki for bed your eyes couldn’t help but wander towards the clock that was hanging by the door. Even as a 10 year old he could tell your mind was full of worries. At the time, he was also aware enough to know why you were so worried. He can clearly recall how Gojo promised he would be home by dinner that day after skipping dinner for 3 nights in a row, you had accepted his promise with a tight lipped smile - the tension in the air was not gone unnoticed by the two children.

You were braiding Tsumiki’s hair while Megumi was drying his with a towel, you couldn’t help but notice how he’s catching onto Gojo’s habits, Tsumiki was humming a new song she learnt during her music lesson which was abruptly cut short as you finished braiding her hair. 

You called them both over so they could give you a goodnight kiss, Tsumiki went first and headed towards her room needing her alone time as a moody tween. 

As Megumi leaned over to give you a shy kiss on the cheek he paused in between and spoke softly, “Don’t worry he’ll be home.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at the kindness of the 10 year old. 

You gave him a toothy smile as you leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek instead, “Ofcourse he will! And I’m gonna beat his butt for being late again! You don’t worry about it, ‘kay?” You replied with a grin.

Which was responded by a loop sided smile and nod by Megumi as he whispered a goodnight slowly making his way to the bedroom. 

However, all your reassurances went to waste as Megumi woke up to a silent house, the usual lovey dovey atmosphere replaced by cold air.

Did Gojo forget to turn on the heating again? He wondered as he peeked through the kitchen to see you and Gojo in different corners of the room. Your usual humming replaced with silence as Gojo stole glances at you that you seemed to ignore.

Megumi looked at Tsumiki as if asking her what happened with his eyes, Tsumiki just shrugged as she played around with her food. 

Megumi took the seat next to her as he leaned into her ear asking, “Are they okay?” 

“They’ve been quiet since I woke up, i don’t know…but they love each other and they love us so it should be okay.”

Your heart broke at the mature conversation your 11 and 10 year old were having. 

“Oh shit! Look at the time.” Megumi heard Gojo shout as he dropped something in the kitchen.

“Well, don’t you care about being on time now.” You mumbled grudgingly only to be met with Gojo’s guilty eyes boring into your back. 

The entire conversation not going unnoticed by your children who seemed to just grow more worried by the minute. 

“Cmon kids pack your bags time to go! If you’re still hungry I’ll get food on the way. Quick quick quick!” Gojo shouted as he made his way to the living room clapping his hands.

As they were about to leave you went to bid them goodbye with a kiss, a routine you all gained after Tsumiki saw you giving Gojo a kiss everytime he left for missions which resulted in her shyly asking you to give her a kiss when she leaves home too. 

You kissed the children first and the kids held their breath when it was Gojo’s usual turn, and as you leaned into kiss him, the worried expressions turned into relief as they made eye contact with each other silently reassuring each other that everything would be okay. 

This is when Megumi realised that although the two of you may fight, and get upset it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. 

So now at age 16, Megumi watches you two ignore each other over a fight you will definitely be over in less than a few hours, he can’t help but grin.

“What are you laughing at?!??” Nobara questioned as she kicked Megumi on the shin.

“They’ll be fine, let’s just get back to training.” Megumi spoke as he got up making his way to the field.

Nobara and Yuuji watched Megumi from the back, “Will he not tell us about the fight?” Yuuji questioned.

“What do i know” Nobara answered, “Whatever, if he says they’ll be fine then they’ll be fine…let’s go!” She added.

[thebookofcarol]

i'm very much in my caryl feels right now. it's my safe bubble, and i feel very much protected in here. i'm also feeling very hopeful for the future. DISCLAIMER: i've already seen the whole season - the good, the bad, and the wonderful.

WARNING HEAVY FULL TBOC SPOILERS AHEAD-

the whole theme of the show since s1 is Daryl wanting to go home. at first, he doesn't care about anything else but going home. slowly, he starts to care about people, he develops a strong bond with Laurent, and a shockingly surprising romantic connection with Isa, but there's one thing that never changes - DARYL WANTS TO GO HOME. even when he accepts L&I have become his surrogate family, he still plans to take them home to the Commonwealth. his desire never wavers - DARYL WANTS TO GO HOME. he doesn't want to be like his grandpa, who fought someone else's war and ended ruining his family. DARYL WANTS TO GO HOME.

i know i'm going around in circles repeating myself, but what i want to mention is the song that ends the season, the same song that Laurent and Daryl sing together.

🎵You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, well you might find, you get what you need. 🎵

for Laurent, what he wants is a life with his aunt and his hero Daryl, but what he actually needs is a normal life as a normal kid. and that's exactly what he gets when his new daddy Ash flies him away to the CW.

so when it comes to Daryl, it's fairly obvious to me, what he truly wants is TO GO HOME, but he gets what he needs - CAROL. as they walk out of that tunnel into their new Spanish adventures TOGETHER. he's got everything he needs. that's it.

to find home is to find each other.

despite my dislike and side eye to some of the Daryl narrative/storyarc decisions, i can't help feeling, that like Carol, he is also dealing with his own trauma and abandonment issues. the Isa hallucination is about her telling Daryl he won't die there, he won't be like his grandpa/father as she turns into fireflies.

speaking of fireflies, i don't have to like Daryl's arc, but i think the story they are trying to tell here is Daryl is Peter Pan - he is lost in Neverland, and the longer he stays, the harder it is to remember everybody back home. Isa is his tinkerbell, so he says and she literally turns into fireflies ffs. Tinkerbell (Isa) is in love with him, but Peter loves Wendy (CAROL). Wendy who risked everything to get Peter back. sounds familiar? and there you have it.

and if you're still not convince Caryl is coming, then i suggest you wait for ep 4 when Carol and Daryl meet an older version of themselves, who not only see Caryl's love for each other (thinking Carol was Isa - holy mistaken identity trope!), but also comment on them bickering like an old married couple.

i apologize in advance for my aggressive/toxic Caryl positivity. CARYL ON!

[simpforsolas]

on spirit cole

When I first played DAI, I made Cole more human. It felt better to me. Making him human makes him more relatable and allows him to change and grow in ways that feel good to players. But my most recent replay, it's amazing how much my opinion changed.

My fundamental issue with a lot of human Cole arguments is this idea that making Cole human makes him "real." It's an extremely human-centric viewpoint (and by human I just mean intelligent mortal beings - this includes qunari, elves, and dwarves). It's this idea that in order to be "real," in order to be something valuable, you have to fit into a specific mold that's palatable and understandable by people. But in reality, spirit Cole is just as real and as valid as human Cole. Sure, he's different. Sure, he can't live a mortal life and experience typical mortal relationships. But he's still REAL. Spirits are beautiful and wonderful beings just as they are, and they shouldn't have to change into something more human to start to be seen as valuable. It simply takes embracing a different perspective to see the inherent beauty in them.

Consider this line of dialogue you get in the spirit Cole route:

"You found out, but you didn't change." The context of this line is that Cole is talking about Rhys, the mage who befriended Cole but then abandoned him when he realized what Cole truly was: a spirit. Cole has intimate experience with friends leaving him when they find out his true nature, so imagine how meaningful it is to him when the inquisitor doesn't do that. They learn he's a spirit and continue to treat him the same. Nothing changes in their relationship. Then he goes on to say, "You didn't make me change. You let me be this, be more." And that, my friends, is the core of why I love the spirit Cole route so so much. You meet this being who is different and odd, who frightens people just by being himself and wants nothing more than to help. And instead of treating him differently or encouraging him to change into something that you personally might relate to better, you accept him as he is. You don't make him change. If you listen to Cole, he seems so incredibly happy about it, too. He's happy to remain a spirit, as long as he can continue helping people and maintain the relationships he built.

And yes, Spirit Cole also does retain feelings and emotions. He expresses joy when Corypheus was unable to bind him, he expresses sadness when Solas leaves. As we learn from Solas's quest, you can certainly have friendships with spirits. It's just a different kind of relationship, and that's the entire point: Different is okay. I think that this speaks to me on a deep, personal level because of past relationships where I was made to feel like there was something wrong with the authentic, true me. Like I was broken. I felt that in order to be accepted, I had to minimize parts of myself and pretend to be someone I wasn't. So to see Cole be so wholly accepted just as he is and to not be encouraged to change was extremely cathartic for me, and I believe that's the entire point of Spirit Cole. Unapologetic acceptance for someone as they are.

There is the argument to be made that Cole wanted to be more human. After all, he took on the original Cole's identity and tricked himself into believing he was human (if you read Asunder you will know this). But I would argue that Cole never explicitly wanted to be human. He accidentally stumbled into taking on Cole's identity because his compassion and empathy was so strong and he identified so deeply with his pain, that he became him. If you talk to Cole, though, he never expresses a preference one way or the other.

Now, don't take this to mean that I don't think the human Cole route isn't lovely in its own way. There's something beautiful about self-determination and not feeling bound to stick as one thing just because you were born one way or raised to believe that you had to be one way. But all that said, I personally resonate more with spirit Cole and will be a spirit Cole truther forever.

[owlf45]

started scrolling through candor and ended up rereading the whole thing. here's some things that I noticed that people didn't pick up on/didn't mention in comments (ordered from most interesting (IMO) to least):

chapter arcs & stages of grief

Roughly each of the 7 chapters in Candor embodies a different stage of grief (an extended model from the 5 stage model): shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, reconstruction, and acceptance. because grief is inherently messy, these stages are superfluous and sometimes a chapter cycles through multiple of these moods. but, generally, each chapter shines with each stage of grief. (funnily enough, this was not necessarily intentional; I broke up the chapters in terms of vibes and readability, but it turned out quite nicely.)

theme: growth, love, and the unsaid conflict b/t AFO & Yoichi

everyone picked up on the theme of self love, but really the theme is about love despite changing. its about growing up.

you see where this theme shows the failure of love when people grow in two different directions. Yoichi and AFO in chapter 3, for example:

“You lied to me,” All For One snarls. “I told you I would take care of you. I loved you, and you lied to me.”  “The person I loved died the minute you decided to kill for no reason!” Izuku snaps.  All For One reels. “What happened to the Yoichi that cared? What happened to you?”

And:

All For One watches him curiously. “I wonder how many times my adoring little brother will watch you die,” he says simply. “I wonder how long it will take before he realizes it was his fault he changed.” 

Versus Yoichi and Izuku in chapter 6:

“When you choose to love somebody, you choose to love a different version of them every day.” Yoichi looks sad. His hair curtains his face more than usual. “Maybe, when you wake up from this simulation, you will not be the same. Maybe the person who went into the simulation isn’t the one who will come out of it.” Izuku stares.  “If they love you,” Yoichi says, “they will choose to keep loving you.” “They can’t love someone who doesn’t exist anymore,” Izuku says, defeated.  “It exists, here, in your memories,” Yoichi replies. “And it exists in their memories too.” 

it is as blatant a metaphor for growing up as I could get without starting to wax poetry. it's about changing, becoming someone so different that recognizing you is difficult. yes, it is about loving yourself, but its about loving in spite of not being the person you were once comfortable being.

the line 'it exists, here, in your memories' ('it' meaning izuku) is also a little bit funny. izuku is quite literally in his memories when this line is spoken, but he is not the person he wants to be there (he is not who he was before the simulation): instead, he is unrecognizable, monstrous, and lost. it is supposed to be paradoxical. at the same time yoichi says, "it exists here, in your memories", 'it' does not exist in his memories— 'it' is dead. the contradiction lends itself to the theme of growth often being a confusing, uncertain period.

(note that Yoichi is speaking both times here. in chapter 3 he says he loved a person who died (a younger AFO who no longer exists, who didn't kill others). in chapter 6, yoichi says that when you love someone, you choose to love different versions of them as they come. here is as close as yoichi gets to confessing that he loves afo, still, even as he hates him. what makes chapter 3 fascinating is that afo says he loves Yoichi but means it shallowly and obsessively—he means he loves a version of Yoichi that is adoring, repentant, and reliant on afo. yoichi dies with his love completely unmentioned (it's not even in the narration), though it is far more real.)

inspiration from canon

there are a lot of references to the muscular fight, and the first time is when I introduce the readers to warring identities between izuku wanting to flee and wanting to fight (civilian Deku vs. hero Deku). this dialogue is actually directly from canon (the anime, at the very least). watching it inspired that whole part of the fic.

the fourth vestige & theme: perception

less for candor, more for the series in general: people wildly overestimate the 'evilness' or twistedness of izuku's fourth vestige in perception, which is my fault because I made aizawa the POV and the man is notoriously paranoid and harsh. his personal feelings do melt into the narration quite a bit which paint a brutal picture (which I did on purpose but I underestimated how seriously people took aizawa's POV), so ill talk a little bit from behind the scenes. i find the fourth vestige to be cunning, analytical, and sort of the mastermind behind canon!izuku's brains. civilian-izuku can memorize tons of facts, but obviously, he's not much of a planner. he tends to go about things in a very headstrong way, as seen by how he mindlessly throws himself into the simulation. UA izuku (the fourth) is more creative. but much like the other vestiges, he is scared and doesn't want to be left behind. he takes satisfaction when he's seen as a person, a worthy hero, a challenge. as a result, he's much like a peacock, posturing in the way izuku does at UA to seem confident and in control, though pushed to an extreme because its hosted in a single vestige. the line that gets twisted in aizawa's POV the most, I think, is this one, where UA Izuku says this to civilian (Aldera) deku:

UA Izuku holds his hand out to the other. “I don’t want to hurt people any more than you do.” And the lie is so, so smooth.

which, if you think about it for a second, is probably not an unrealistic lie for... well, anyone. civilian Deku would cry if he stepped on a ladybug. here UA izuku is charming, knowing that civilian Deku is twitchy, frightened, and difficult to pin down, and needs to be reassured of UA Izuku's goodness and kindness. UA Izuku, understanding how explosive the other two vestiges are, has to think creatively to minimize conflict and does that by seeking out the one most likely to hurt himself to keep him safe (I find UA izuku would be the least likely). now, would UA izuku be willing to hurt others? probably, if it meant keeping himself and others safe. but that's not an evil value. hence why I titled perception the way I did... not just because more things are happening that were never seen in candor, but also because Aizawa himself, our POV and our muse for the day, brings his own biases to the table.

theme: grief, again

explaining the up-and-downs of each chapter is super complicated and circumstantial, so I wont for all of them, but I wanted to talk about chapter 3 (again! I guess it has my heart). it has a heavy focus on the warmest, most compassionate characters (fifth and seventh). as hinted above, it is also the 'anger' stage of grief. much of the chapter is about this compassionate love, but its also about loss, and the anger that accompanies it. chapter three starts with izuku whole and ends with him in pieces as he loses parts of himself in parallel of fifth/seventh's memories. candor is constantly ending at an arc where it started (but with its occupants changed, different). the material in each chapter and between chapters is circular/repetitive, much like grieving is.

fun fact, i guess

the first scene in candor is not the first scene that izuku goes through. the very first line says as much: "It’s the third time Izuku’s hit the pavement face-first... And it’s his third time dying today." It's implied that Izuku's already been at it for a while in different scenes, though it's subtle. no one seemed to pick up on that in the comments until it was shown in perception. i wanted it to be very evident what the crux of the conflict in the fic was, however, so I started with the jumping-out-the-window scene.

i dont believe this is a super inclusive look at everything candor has to offer, but here's a few things i could think of right off the top of my head. again, this is what I was thinking about when I wrote it, but I am but one person, so conveying these points might not be obvious or done poorly. nevertheless, if you ever decide to go back and reread parts of it, I hope some of my decisions are enlightening and/or interesting!!

[the-apocrypha]

DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken. 

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime. 

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear. 

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction. 

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part: 

The glass is intact. 

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?” 

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. 

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up. 

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down. 

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.” 

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed. 

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill. 

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag. 

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs. 

The hand on his wrist stays him. 

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point. 

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him. 

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.” 

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted. 

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.” 

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read: 

It does not belong to Hob. 

WORLD’S 

LEAST 

PUNCTUAL 

WATCHMAKER 

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. 

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence. 

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel. 

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness. 

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins. 

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes. 

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully. 

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

[shinjiikar1]

Once again I have so many thoughts about these episodes... i was sort of dreading watching them because i wasn't totally recovered from last week, but I ended up watching it in one sitting (with a lot of breaks to pace around and calm down lol), I really want to give this show the space and thought it deserves, it's just too good for me to watch any other way...

I'm going to make another post with my Extensive thoughts about Go Young and Young Soo, but I wanted to answer some of the questions this week first.

The first part of the story paired the relationships with Choi Mi Ae and Kim Nam Gyu. Why do you believe this section paired Yeong’s relationships with Yeom Eun Suk (Umma) and No Yeong Su (Hyung)?

I think this section really emphasized various relationships to homosexuality, particularly how it intersects with Christianity.

Both characters are homophobic (internalized or otherwise), and enact this homophobia on Go Young, but represent different aspects of how it can manifest. Umma (in the present) is willfully blind, she pressures Go Young about marriage, she sees the picture but doesn't comment, she keeps his books at her bedside and takes newspaper clippings but won't read them and she's relieved when she doesn't have to meet Young Soo. She's avoiding reality as much as she can, it seems by the end she's realized there's nothing she can do to change her son, but she wants to keep pretending that it isn't really real (an attitude I find a lot of staunchly Christian households have).

Young Soo on the other hand is reactionary and anxious. He panics and lashes out whenever Go Young does or suggests something he considers "too gay". When his senior infers he might be, he freezes and then later blows up at Go Young. He's at war with himself, and he cruelly redirects that internal conflict back onto other queer people.

Crucially, both approaches harm Go Young. He lacks acceptance and understanding from his mother as she denies a vital part from him, and he is insulted and berated by his partner because of his comfort and pride in his identity.

With the drama feeling like more of a continuous story rather than four distinct vignettes, how does the connectivity to previous characters adjust the experience with the story?

I have to say I really love the way the T-aras have been included in the show. I can't really speak on how it's adjusted the experience, but to see their continual presence in Go Young's life makes him feel just slightly less isolated and gives the audience familiar ground to stand on. When they appear at the hospital, it feels incredibly meaningful because we've seen them from the start.

While their connection with Go Young isn't as deep as some of the other characters, I think they represent a very important type of relationship. They aren't complicated, they don't insert themselves overly into each other's lives, they share some problems, but never push. I think that's why Go Young doesn't push them away, they don't have as much capacity to cause him deep and lasting harm, but they provide a source of comfort and camaraderie in a life that is otherwise isolated. Not every friendship needs to be incredibly deep and overwhelming, it's important to have friends who can provide a distraction from your problems, and a different perspective on your life. And they clearly do love and care for him, their concern at the bar and presence at the hospital show that. Just because they're not sitting down for deep philosophical chats or sharing all their trauma doesn't mean they're not good friends.

In the last section, Yeong’s experiences with Mi Ae and Nam Gyu reflected the difficult ways heteronormativity impacts queer life. How did this section highlight sources and expressions of internalized homophobia?

It's really no wonder Young Soo is homophobic given the type of people in his life and his lack of connection (intentional or otherwise) to the queer community. He views gay people in a very stereotypical and simple fashion, and on some level probably thinks he's above them because he doesn't engage in some of their more "barbarous" activities. It almost seems like he's constantly doing penance for being gay, he has to live this austere life to offset it.

After seeing Yeong's journey with these first four meaningful relationships, where are you emotionally as we head into the section with Gyu-ho?

STRESSED. I love this show Dearly, and I'm looking forward to watching more, but also I know it's going to make me cry. Especially because I know some vague spoilers (oops).

This week was such a roller coaster, but I'm enjoying the ride. I also really want to point out how well LITBC uses music, picking a specific piece to underscore each section and tie each pairing of characters together is so smart and really speaks to the level of care put into every aspect.

[sherlynbrennan13]

I know I've had my Tumblr abandoned for a while, but I'm back !!! Miss me?

Anyway, I want to show you these designs I made for an AU Appleradio (which I won't write because ✨creative block✨) but in short it's as follows:

Lucifer is a widower, Charlie is going to University and he feels lonely so he resumes what was his passion when he was younger, this is the study of the paranormal (ghosts, UFOs, cryptids) and although before he only wrote about it in a blog, now he decides to open a Youtube channel, which is very successful from the beginning.

One day, a follower from Louisiana calls him to tell him that he has captured a beast that has been stalking the swamps for decades, everyone took them as a legend and the only proof of their existence were some footprints and also several deaths of hikers or people who went into the swamps and only their bodies were found. However, this man was seriously dedicated to catch the creature and finally succeeded, so he offers to sell it to Lucifer and he undertakes a journey to see it before accepting any deal.

The creature in question turns out to be something similar to a Wendigo, and upon verifying that it is alive and genuine, Lucifer buys it and somehow takes it to his home, where he installs it in a cage in the basement. Driven by curiosity, he becomes obsessed with investigating it, learning more about it and at a certain point he even begins to get attached to it, because contrary to what people say, the creature is quite peaceful with him, does not try to attack him and even seems to have some attachment to him.

From the moment he gets the creature, Lucifer begins to have very strange dreams, related to each other as memories. In all of them, he is a cop in 1920 who finds himself chasing a dangerous criminal known as the New Orleans Monster. At the same time, he strikes up a friendship with a radio announcer, who takes an interest in "helping" him solve the case, although Lucifer always feels that the man is hiding something from him. As time goes by and they live together, certain feelings beyond friendship begin to develop between them.

Then one day, Lucifer discovers a ritual that supposedly helps humans who have been transformed into creatures like the one he has, to return to their human state. He decides to try it and it actually works, the next morning when he wakes up, he finds a boy in the creature's cage, the strange thing is that he is not only identical to the man in his dreams, but he speaks to him with the same name he had in that "alternate history" and tells him things that only Lucifer could know because they happened in his dreams.

Then, thanks to conversations between them and research, it is known that Lucifer is a reincarnation of that policeman from 1920, almost identical physically so Alastor recognizes him immediately, and his strange dreams were just the small human part of Alastor that still remained in the creature, transmitting his memories to try to establish a bond and save him.

By the end of the story of the two in 1920, Lucifer was beginning to make the connection between the killer and that announcer, but at the same time he was so drawn to him that he was in denial. Alastor dates him at a carnival costume party, with intentions of confessing his feelings to him, he also planned to get away from the criminal life for a while to be with him, however, the night before the party he decides to commit his last murder and lures a victim into the swamp, however this turns out to be a trap and he ends up being killed by a group of hunters who had been trying for months to get rid of the Monster of New Orleans, who had previously killed one of his hunting companions. In that life, the case remains unsolved, Lucifer later meets a woman and marries her, but he never stops wondering what happened to Alastor.

But... To clarify, in the beginning Alastor was just a murderer, the habit of eating his victims started due to a spirit that inhabited the swamp, which began to appear to him in dreams first, and once Alastor tasted human flesh for the first time, the spirit began to possess him making him have periods of violence where he could not remember what had happened, it causes him nightmares and hallucinations and for some reason, the only way to dampen those symptoms is to continue consuming human flesh. When Alastor is about to die from the wounds caused by the gunshots and the hunters' hounds, the spirit manifests itself to him, now physically, and offers to save him if Alastor lets it take full control of his body and mind, then it will heal his wounds, It will keep him alive somehow, although what it does not tell him is that he will not be aware of anything that happens from that moment on while he is under the spirit's control, so when Lucifer releases him with the ritual, it was as if time had not passed for Alastor, and he genuinely thought that he was still in the 1920s, that somehow he was free of his persecutors and that the next day he had a date with the man he loved.

In the present life, Alastor goes to live with Lucifer since he has no money of his own and his papers are no longer valid. Lucifer tries to teach him about technology and life in this age, as well as help him overcome the fact that the world as he knew it and the people he loved in his time no longer exist. Eventually, feelings between them resurface... I haven't thought too much about that last part, though.

[sixosix]

THOUGHTS THOUGHTS THOUGHTS THOUGHTS- Akjsdhfaksljhflka Exam season ended earlier than i thought so it's time to poke for details! 

I gotta start off with me kicking my feet over my shared theories from last time. They weren’t fully right but AAAA

The fact that Thawed!Reader was a distraction to Lyney and Father leaving her alone all this time…asjkghhsgaf Her just casually mentioning, ‘oh yeah, I knew she couldn’t have gone far’... And her implying that she had already had a plan to deal with this type of situation before Aether interfered just says so much about her character. I wonder how different it was going to be, because it seemed like she was just going to leave T!Reader be until she actually interfered like now. Maybe use the potion still? Relocation? Her character both in general and here makes it seem like she wouldn’t just kill her without a second thought. 

Also, I like to imagine the research she did into Rosalie was not only to come up with a plan as to what to do now that there were new variables, but to make sure her child was at least going to be ok under Rosalie’s care. After her not-a-answer answer…. Adlkfhjasldkfjlaks Father cares in her weird way it's fine, don't worry.

I love the inclusion of the potion from her story quest by the way! I think it adds a more devastating twist than what I originally thought may have been on the line, like her life. Like, Thawed!Reader would be perfectly fine, but not only does she lose memories of all the recent (and previous) memories such as any positive moments with Aether or her familial connection with Rosalie, but also people who deeply care about her (Rosalie, our fauti trio, maybe aether and paimon?) suddenly lose their friend since her identity is so closely tied to being a part of the Fauti. From being one to becoming a runaway one, almost every action she has taken till now has been influenced by her past and if she accepts then it's all gone. I know you mentioned that Lyney would absolutely still chase after Thawed!Reader even if she took the potion and he had to start from the beginning(which absolutely see it ashdlaksh) but there is absolutely no way he wouldn’t feel any short of hurt by that. Even as he tries to woo her for a third time, he’s going to be holding on to memories he can’t tell her about for multiple reasons. Experiences he adores like sparing but she may not be able to do any more. 

(Speaking of the potion, i do have my own theories on what may happen with everyone involving that… but i’ll share that in a separate ask.)

The Knave’s and Rosalie interaction was so nice; both sets of parents really do be fighting huh. But while T!Reader’s and Lyney’s was a bit more high strung, the other parents feels a bit more like understanding each other. Not that they like it, i mean, look at Rosalie. It felt like two different parents trying to co-parent, if that makes sense? I mean, like I mentioned before, if the Knave really wanted to, she could have just killed T!Reader and even Rosalie and be done with it. But besides wanting Rosalie to act as bait; she mostly had a calm discussion, and seemed to keep Rosalie’s feelings in mind as a fellow parent of this kid. I mean, she even reined in the soldiers when they lashed out at our favorite flower shop owner in their blind loyalty. And her kinda silent approval at Rosalie’s answer about the potion? Why is the set of parents that includes a harbinger having the calmer convo? (Gotta ask as well! What flower did Father give Maman? Despite the meanings, I do think that considering her ascension materials, it may have been a rainbow rose. But if we consider other Fontaine flowers, Lumiose bells also fit well! And Romaritime flowers sadfasfasdf…) 

As for T!Reader and Lyney- akdfjalskjf THE PARENTS REALLY DO BE FIGHTING HERE! Dear god the tension rising in the situation, T!Reader is blinded by worry and anger while Lyney is partly blinded by love and his want to help. Paimon, Aether and Lynette are the audience at this point (although, gotta say, love the explanation to how they know there T!Reader lives! Despite how she’s acting now in the context of Rosalie being kidnapped, it was a perfect compromise to deliver the gift but let T!Reader keep some form of privacy. Too bad it is also working against the twins in this moment with  Arlecchino’s plans. Plus, they may have found out anyway due to the fact their crew of workers had also seen T!Reader around Fontaine in the past. All it would take was one of the workers going to Rosalie’s shop while T!Reader was working.)

Lyney almost said love!! My man had a confession moment!! Too bad that it was in the middle of a fight. That whole conversation had layers I want to poke at for more information. Lyney’s automatic confirmation of betraying Father for T!Reader, her calling Rosalie her mother to everyone, Aether’s hurt at her blaming him, T!Readers fixation on the fact that; from her point of view; Lyney is only taking and taking and taking.But it's her exit that caught my eye the most. It felt like a really cool parallel from back in chapter three when T!Reader gained her vision. 

Both times T!Reader was upset and angry, and Lyney comes in as both connected to the source of her problems as well as someone who just wants to help her. Both times she lashes out at people (the fight/freezing during the first and the cruel words plus biting cold in the second). And both times she walks away leaving behind a barrier of ice (technically it was a door covered in some ice in the second fight but shh we’re still counting it).

I wonder if Lyney also recognized the parallels as well, since his tone switched from stubborn and confident to weak pleading the moment T!Reader starting walking away! Just the echoes of it, I wouldn't be surprised if somewhere in lyney’s thought process was just like ‘not again, please not again’. All the effort and care he took into trying to not scare her off again just went down the drain by Arelcchino’s actions, and just like before, he’s unable to convince her to stay and let him help. However, this time, he has a lead in the form having some knowledge on Father’s methods as well as knowing that T!Reader is going to try and go after her to get Rosalie. And I’d be willing to bet money that he’s going to latch onto that and not let go. 

Also, remember how my first ask mentioned aether being a deadman once lyney found out that he blackmailed Thawed!Reader? Yeah I think we’re at that point, we’re gonna see this man go feral like he did in the fortress. Not to mention Rosalie and (maybe) Arlecchino’s reaction. I doubt Arlecchino will actually do something since the potion is already her plan but I’m sure she’s curious about how the traveler pushed up the timeline. And I doubt Rosalie is gonna be a happy maman once she learns why her daughter started hanging out with the Outlander. 

P.S, totally for absolutely no reason in particular… how do you feel about fanfics of your fanfics?

-deadman aether anon

HHEHEHE IM SO GLAD U STOPPED APOLOGIZING FOR LONG ASKS its about time…. WE LOVE THIS SHIT!!!!!

- father does care!!!!! and it shows even in canon lore!!!!!!! ofc the children wont have it easy and they wont be spoiled rotten with affection but i think thats what makes arlecchinos way of doing things even more special and i rlly wanted to incorporate that here toooo

- yesss:( mc’s entire identity is VERY tied to her “past” as a fatuus! of course lyney wouldnt be happy about mc forgetting everything that made their relationship, because what they had was very special to him!! (and i would love to hear that potion train of thought)

- i think i didnt write it clear enough which is my fault! but the flower i was hoping to hint that arlecchino was giving to rosalie was the “Snezhnayan” flower that Arle bought from her a few chapters ago. fun fact i didnt want to assume to whatever hyv had planned for snezhnaya flowers, but i wanted it to be a flower that had originated from khaenriah but still became relevant to snezhnaya. so to rosalie, it was just an imported flower, but it was one that was unique enough to make her remember whoever bought it!

- and yes HAGSHAHA i found it hilarious to write in that rosalie and arlecchino would have a calm meeting while lyney and mc are a mess and a half. i think it shows that they both have a long way to go before they reach the same level as the other two:)))

- THE PARALLEL!!!! YUUPPPPPPP i wanted to reference it in the next chapter too in case people didnt realize it but im glad u caught it BAHAHAA

- i guess we will find out if aether truly will be a dead man next chapter…. Didnt even get the chance to reunite with his sister ohhh poor boy. this is why u dont blackmail someone! learn from aether, everyone

- ALSOHELLO??? fanfics of my fanfics? oh. PLEASE. hello. YES! i would absolutely love to see how people interpret my series and the characters within them:( that would be such a joy!!!!!! but i also just want to see how people think of thawed!lyney HAHAHHA

[mercurygray]

I don’t know if you’re still accepting prompts but if you are could I get a Ron and Billie Jealous au for your brand of brothers fic? Or one where Ron leaves his wife for Billie (I know it’s messy but babe I love drama and I need angst)

I'm so sorry this took so long, Maddie! I went in a slightly different direction with this, but it's a scene I've been meaning to write for a while - the two of them meeting post-war and post-everything.

Hawaii was supposed to be nice, this time of year.

That was what all the travel adverts said, anyway - not that Billie would get much of a chance to see it. Airline stewardesses didn't make enough to take a week away on the beach - an overnight in the airport hotel, perhaps a daiquiri in the bar, and then it was straight back out the next morning, listening to all those eager vacationers asking how she'd liked the sand and the surf.

But despite those setbacks Billie could honestly say that she liked her job. The pay was good, and the hours weren't terrible, and she could say that she'd been to some fabulous places over the last five years - up to and including not spending any time at home in Philadelphia with her mother, who would keep wondering aloud when she was going to get married. When are you going to meet someone, her mother kept asking. Surely there are single men on planes.

What, you mean all of those bored businessmen looking for a little heavy petting away from home? Those single men? Those were the only kind she met these days - unless you were talking about the pilots, who were just as bad at keeping commitments.

No, she wasn't going to meet anyone here, and that was just the way she liked it. At present she had no obligations and nothing to tie her down, and that was just the way she liked it, too. Billie fixed on her face in the forward galley and made her way down the aisle, offering to help 7B with her bag, and to find a souvenir plane for the little boy in 12C.

There was laughter, a few rows back - a group of officers in class As, crusher caps and all, each with an identical briefcase and a smile that only got wider as she walked by. Hawaii was probably only a stopover for them - one night at the airbase and then on to Japan. Five years ago they wouldn't have been laughing about this flight - but five years was a long time. Billie tried to move by, brushing by the one joker who was still loitering in the aisle.

"And how about you, gorgeous?" he asked with a grin. "Are you free when we get there?"

One born every minute. "Terribly sorry, gentlemen, but I have other plans."

"Aw, but are they more fun than us?" his friend asked, rising from his own seat to block her in a moment, taking one hand and wrapping his free arm around her waist, his hand resting casually on her ass. "Maybe some drinks and dancing?"

Billie felt her blood rising, felt the urge to clench her fist and punch him square in the gut starting to pick up speed. She'd be allowed, if she were somewhere else. But stewardesses had to be cleverer with their jabs. She was just mustering her very best smile when someone spoke behind her.

"Is there going to be a problem here, Captain?"

Immediately the hands dropped - and Billie's face did, too. I know that voice. "No, Major Speirs, sir. Of course not."

And then there was another man behind her, looming. "When you speak to a lady, you call her ma'am." She took a deep breath, and turned around, only to come face to face with the same familiar dark eyes she knew she'd find. "Miss Mitchell."

It was a good thing the other man had called attention to his rank, because she wouldn't have been able to see it. She was too busy looking at him. "Major Speirs." And it took every ounce of strength she had not to call him Ron, because here he was, and exactly as she remembered, and the way his voice wrapped itself around her core felt as though it were only yesterday that they'd been in bed together, chuckling over shared cigarettes.

And one of his men had been feeling her up, and he looked spitting mad about it. Or at least, as mad as Ron ever looked, which was to say he had a kind of fire behind his eyes that you wouldn't notice until it burned you.

A bell rang overhead for the captain to speak, and everyone resumed their seats - and now those eyes were following her through the whole plane.

Billie knew how she looked to men in her uniform- the pencil skirt, cut to display a tight derriere and a fine pair of legs, the tailored coat with its bracelet sleeves, the pert hat over perfect hair. But she was unsure, now, how she looked to him. Did he like tight skirts, or the look of her calves in seamed stockings and heels? Was the way she dressed her hair now still attractive? Or did he only love the woman in fatigues with her unwashed hair in a braid, the one he could ask, laughing, Has anyone told you today you're beautiful?

She didn't know. And she wasn't sure she could stand the answer if she asked.

The captain turned the loudspeaker on, mentioning the gateway, and taxiing, and takeoff, and everyone took their seats and put their seatbelts on, and the engine roared them down the jetway. Billie's stomach was already in her mouth.

Ron Speirs. On her airplane.

It wasn't quite a full flight to Hawaii - eager vacationers, anxious for the sun, businessmen talking rice and pineapple and a dozen other commodities, and the small contingent of officers, all of whom seemed to have learned their lesson the first time and refrained from saying more than two words to her as she went by. All of them - and Ron.

She brought the cart around for drinks, tidied away newspapers and magazines, and studiously avoided him until she was doing the second round of drink service and he flagged her down. The seat next to him was empty, taken up by a briefcase and his own crusher cap - the privileges of rank.

"Billie, please. Stay a moment."

"I have a job to do."

"I'll take coffee."

She poured it without thinking, straight black, nothing in it, just the same way he'd always drunk it during the war, and set the cup down in front of him. "Some cream and sugar, please," he said, and she stared for a moment before realizing what it was he was doing - creating a reason for her to stay.

"So they promoted you," she said, taking her time with the sugar. "I didn't know if you'd stay in."

"I didn't have a reason to get out," he said, and as she set the cup down and he steadied it on his table she noticed his hand was bare - no ring. "We…separated," he offered, quietly. "There was …someone who needed her more." The casual way he said it nearly broke her. "I see one of us did all right, though," he said, smiling as he gestured to the diamond solitaire on her own hand. "Who's the lucky fellow?"

She looked down at the ring like she'd forgotten it was there - because she had forgotten she had it on. Her hand clenched like that would somehow hide it. "Oh, he - he doesn't exist. Sometimes it helps with - deterrence."

"And what do you tell them about him, when they ask?"

I tell them that he's very handsome, and we met during the war, and that he's a captain in the army. "Oh, this and that. Pretty lies." She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"I am, too." He glanced up at her with a brief smile, as if he were somehow afraid to hold her eye. "Do they give you some time for fun, after these long hauls?"

"Not much," she admitted. "But I can smell the sea, from the airport hotel, and that's usually good enough."

"They have me at the airport, too," he said vaguely. "Army travel budgets."

Down the aisle, someone else gestured, and she replaced the coffee on her cart. "Don't let me keep you," he offered, and she continued on down the row.

15C needed a gin and tonic with less emphasis on the tonic and more emphasis on the gin, and as she poured, her eyes glanced backwards down the aisle, catching a glimpse of dark eyes leaning slightly to the left, watching her from behind his hand with a different kind of fire, his coffee untouched in front of him.

Hawaii was nice, this time of year - if you had time to see any of it, that is. But five years was a long time.

(She was just hanging up her uniform when there was a knock at the door, and a pair of dark, fiery eyes behind it - tie loose, very sober. He looked her in the eye with longing. "Has anyone told you today you're beautiful?")

[magioftheseas]

In Which Komaeda Makes Himself Uncomfortable

Summary: Komaeda wakes up to see a mirror image of himself. This is a problem, right? Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of canon-compliant violence. Notes: This was supposed to be for a kink meme thread that was about other Komaeda ships so you can imagine how old it is sdhfkjhsdhf. But it's Komaeda's birthday so I finally finished this WIP and, uh, I'm not sure if this is a step towards self-acceptance, much less self-love, but it's something! Happy Komaeda Day 2024! ***Alternate Ao3 Link*** Commission? Donate?

When he first woke up to a look-alike looming over him, staring down with an intense focus, his first action was to pick the bottle of pills he had taken before bed to see if side-effects included hallucinations. They didn’t, but there was nausea listed.

Komaeda put the bottle aside, pushing himself up and the other remained standing there, staring with a furrowed brow. He looked...more curious than the confusion Komaeda felt right now. Confusion that lifted his hand to see if the other him was tangible...

His hand was grabbed and then their fingers entwined. They were perfectly identical right down to neatly filed down nails. The veins protruding, the jutted out wrist, the white pallor of the flesh—everything looked exactly the same.

“What is this...?” Komaeda pulled his hand back, blinking several times and then the other him pulled back as well, walking over to the curtains of his window and pulling them shut. “What are you?”

His question wasn’t answered at first, no, the mirror image was instead explaining, “If the others see that there are two of us; it may cause panic.”

Admittedly, that sounded reasonable, but when it was his own voice saying that even when he wasn’t the one... It sounded different than normal because the sound was through air, after all, so it was higher in pitch, more grating. It was no wonder his classmates always looked so irritated whenever he started talking.

Komaeda hummed to himself and slipped out of bed, in just the shirt and boxers he wore to sleep in, wondering if his doppelganger came with the jacket and jeans he was wearing and didn’t just steal—oh, no, there they were. Hung up in the same place he put them. But if he did glance back at the other, he’d be able to make out the mended tear that Komaeda remembered sewing shut a few days ago after he took a tumble. Even their clothes looked exactly the same.

Is this good luck or bad luck?

It must be bad luck, Komaeda initially thinks in response, because that the world would be afflicted with two of him—two worthless, despicable, and cursed beings—it’s easy to think it’s terrible bad luck.

But...on the other hand, so much more could be done with two of them. More stepping stones to lift those potential symbols of hope, more obstacles for the others to overcome and thus shine brighter, and he’d get cleaning and errands done so much easier and quicker with another pair of hands, provided more mistakes didn’t happen due to bad luck. Which, admittedly, would most likely be prone to happening if the two of them had the same fortune...

…Oh, but there can only be one SHSL Lucky though, right? Could their luck possibly be the same or could this duplicate just be a lowlier copy of an already lowly being? Komaeda really wondered about that. He could test it, of course. But if the other him died as a result, it’d be troubling if he got executed for the ‘murder’. Monokuma would certainly be all for something so ridiculous, and Komaeda wondered if the bear knew about this situation already.

He stared at the security camera, glaring at them both, and was sure that Monokuma did know. Why he wasn’t appearing right then and there to commentate on it, with the ridiculous jokes he’d probably make... That Komaeda wasn’t so sure about. Maybe the bear was just letting the situation settle first?

How strange.

“It’s nearly eight.” Ah, his doppelganger was speaking again, in that high-pitched grating voice. Komaeda perked up, glancing blankly at the other, watching him pause in thought. “Oh, should we both call each other ‘Komaeda-kun’?”

He laughed even though there was nothing particularly amusing about the situation. But that was normal behavior, so it wasn’t that strange if the two of them really were copies of one another. But nearly eight?

Right. This was the time his classmates usually met up at the hotel’s restaurant. But he wondered...could he really go there considering this situation...

“Should I go to the meeting? And come right back?” The other asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was being given this expectant look and also a curious one, with the other’s head tilted and his eyes wide and did he really look like that...? “Or would you rather go and I stay here? You have to come back quickly if you do—otherwise I’ll get suspicious.”

Oh. “Shouldn’t I be suspicious right now? You’re the one who appeared so suddenly, you know. But if neither of us go to the meeting, the others may get anxious and get the wrong impression. Hinata-kun might even take it upon himself to check...” Would Hinata know what to do if he knew about this? Perhaps his talent had something to do with people getting inexplicably duplicated... But somehow, that sounded less likely than SHSL Tsun-Tsun Hair. Komaeda wanted to laugh too, thinking that, and it wasn’t that funny. “Oh, I should go though. I’ll come back immediately though. If you become troublesome, don’t think I won’t immediately tell the others and prove your existence if I have to. I will.”

His reflection blinks, but smiles like this isn’t a surprise—and it shouldn’t be. “Alright then. Have fun, Komaeda-kun.”

What kind of strange comment is that? Komaeda’s stare narrowed, his suspicious glare not leaving the other as he fetched the rest of his clothes. The other stared back with a calm smile, unaffected and simply gesturing for him to get going once he dressed himself.

Komaeda doesn’t need to be told twice to leave when he does.

--

One possible reason for this is that it’s a setup by Monokuma. A motive, perhaps? Maybe his classmates would be more driven to kill him if there were two of him. They barely tolerated him alone. The only reason why he wasn’t barred from the daily, usual full-class meetings is because they needed to keep an eye on him...and they couldn’t just keep him tied up in that lodge forever.

Though a few of them certainly tried to.

There were still glares and suspicious stares thrown his direction whenever he entered, and Komaeda met each one politely, while simultaneously searching for a particular sort of unease. Perhaps something to suggest he wasn’t the only one with the duplicate problem. But the mood and anxiety seemed unchanged from before.

And the topic of finding a mysterious double never came up in the usual conversation. Komaeda kept quiet as the other students reported the usual thing—and Monokuma introducing a new motive didn’t happen either. Perhaps this was just Komaeda’s issue then.

Perhaps he should inform them. Just in case.

Maybe to rouse them—to hopefully encourage them and just as he opened his mouth—

“No one wants to fucking hear it, Komaeda,” Kuzuryuu snapped, to which he shut his mouth and just looked down. He vaguely noticed Hinata giving him a look, and he weakly smiled in his direction. Hinata just looked away and he faltered.

The meeting went on as usual, and Komaeda would have just left immediately as usual, but he found himself pausing, thinking. On the matter of his double—is this really something he should just keep to himself? It’s just as likely to earn him more ire than any influence, and at least one of them could just end up tied up in that lodge again after all. That’d just be troubling.

Maybe it was all in his head after all. Though Komaeda certainly doesn’t remember this as part of any symptoms to any of his sicknesses—a new one, perhaps? But for what, exactly? What good luck would he get from—?

“Komaeda.”

Ah. Hinata.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda said cheerily, turning to the frowning person in question. Hinata was eyeing him warily but at least he was looking at him, and that was more than Komaeda could ask for. “Can I...help you?”

“You’re not coming up with another murder scheme, are you?” Hinata asked, glare narrowing, to which Komaeda could only laugh.

“No—do you perhaps need one, Hinata-kun?”

“No.” A cold, clipped response, then a surprisingly curious question. “What’s been on your mind lately?”

“You care?” He can’t help but smile widely and hopelessly adoringly. “Hinata-kun, you really are such a kind person!”

“It’s because I can’t trust you.” Hinata scowled, but there was still a tinge of hurt in those words. There was also a strain in those features that had Komaeda faltering and had his chest do an odd sort of clench. “If you’re planning something—or if you’re aware of something that no one else knows, then we’re all at risk. You’re a liability, Komaeda.”

“Hinata-kun, I don’t mean to be...”

“Komaeda.” He’s stopped before he can explain as Hinata’s impatient and irritated. “So what was it? What were you about to say before Kuzuryuu cut you off? Please don’t tell me you were about to spew some of that hope-bullshit on us again.”

“...Hmm.” Komaeda shrugged. “Hinata-kun, what would you do if there were two of me?”

“What kind of question is that?” He shrugs again and though Hinata’s clearly annoyed, he does answer. “Scream. What do you think I’d do?”

“Would the sight of there being two be so skin-crawling that you’d have to take drastic measures?” Komaeda asks, eyes wide and expectant as Hinata backed away a bit. “Hinata-kun, let’s plan to kill the other me together. It’s the perfect opportunity!”

“W-What the hell are you—?!” Hinata’s eyes were wide with panic before he hurriedly regained himself. “There being two of you is impossible, right? U-Unless you mean to tell me you have a secret twin or something?!”

“Nope, only child,” Komaeda said. “My birth was a miracle, actually, my parents had been trying to months... Isn’t it so unlucky that they ended up with a worthless person as myself? Well, that among other things.” Komaeda laughed that off. “But, Hinata-kun, I did want an actual answer...”

“Forget it!” Hinata exclaimed, waving his hand and turning on his heel. “Why the hell do I even bother with a nutjob like you?! Just forget I said anything!”

And after working himself up so needlessly, Hinata stormed off in a horrible mood. Komaeda stood there, slightly stunned and a little dismayed.

It wasn’t like this was a surprising result, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed with himself. Someone like Nanami could motivate Hinata to action so easily, meanwhile all Komaeda seemed capable of was aggravating and confusing him.

It hurt a little. After all, if there was anyone Komaeda liked most (not that someone as wretched as him had opinions that mattered when it came to SHSLs, but), it was unquestionably Hinata. When he thought about trying to cajole the other students, he wondered if it was too much of a gamble. He didn’t want to end up tied up in the old building again, especially when Souda was threatening to gag him and Kuzuryuu threatened to cut his tongue out.

Even if good luck would come from such a thing later, it...didn’t seem worth it. He’ll just have to figure something else out.

--

“Komaeda-kun. Welcome back.”

His doppelganger greeted him cheerfully as soon as he entered the cottage. An unsightly bright smile was on his twin’s face and if this was how Komaeda looked, it was no wonder he drew so much ire. It was no wonder others hated him so much.

Already, Komaeda wanted him gone but he couldn’t risk being executed over something that wouldn’t bring the others any hope at all.

(In the back of his mind, he thought of Hinata. “You’re a liability,” Hinata had said. “Why do I even bother with a nutjob like you?”

...Hinata would likely be relieved if Komaeda disappeared. That thought ached a little even as Komaeda convinced himself that short-term relief was no good with long-term complacency.)

“You’re still here.”

Regardless, the doppelganger was a problem. Perhaps Komaeda could knock him out and tie him up in the old building. A quaint idea but not feasible on his own.

The other kept on smiling, sitting innocently on the bed, murky gray eyes at half-mast.

“You came back,” the other said. “Good, good. I was getting lonely.”

Ridiculous. Komaeda knew loneliness was a constant. It was a necessary misfortune and one that it was worthless to complain about, especially to himself.

“Such disdain,” the other cooed. “Isn’t your self-loathing a little exaggerated, aha? It seems extreme to wear an expression that suggests you’d be keen on wringing my throat if you could.”

“What are you getting at, I wonder?” Komaeda asked, forcing cheer and keeping both his back and hands pressed to the door. “Was I always this infuriating or are you really a conjuring courtesy of Monokuma?”

“I’m more the result of a miracle, I suppose,” the doppelganger said. “You need not worry. I have no intention of interfering. See, I lack the stomach to see the others.”

Komaeda knew better than to trust himself, especially at a delicate time like this. It was why he needed to hurry up and get someone, anyone off this island before he spiraled into true incoherence and uselessness. But something about that statement rang as odd. This doppelganger seemed lucid, although Komaeda was uncertain, so what was it?

“Hm.”

Maybe good luck would see the doppelganger killed at the hands of the SHSLs after all.

“What do you plan to do?” Komaeda asked.

The other shrugged. “Remain here, I suppose? As I said, I don’t wish to see anyone else. Even my own face is quite unpleasant.” His gaze lifted just slightly. “Do you want me dead? Have you already approached someone about it? Oh, you don’t need to make that face. We’re the same, so I know. You’re a coward so you had to let Hinata-kun approach you, and even then you were too incompetent to persuade him so you let him storm off!” His own laughter, when not vibrating through his bones, sounded scratchy and shrill. “You really can’t do anything right, can you?”

Komaeda stared. The other just kept smiling like nothing was amiss.

Something was off. More so than he already thought.

His doppelganger shouldn’t be this antagonistic. Even if they mutually despised one another, that should’ve resulted in them ignoring each other, not this goading. Provocation of himself like this wouldn’t result in hope. It was simply acting immature for the sake of it.

“Who are you?”

“Komaeda Nagito.”

“Are you really myself?”

“I’m Komaeda Nagito,” the other repeated, smile tightening at the corners for only a moment.

“Avoiding the question,” Komaeda said quietly. “There’s something wrong about you after all.”

That smile never disappeared, only becoming more twisted and grotesque. It was sickening to the point of almost mesmerizing, and Komaeda was almost taken aback when the doppelganger stood and strolled up to him. The doppelganger leaned in until they were close.

(Komaeda recalled how their fingers entwined and quickly smothered the memory.)

“Komaeda-kun,” the other asked. “Do you know yourself?”

Well enough to tell that something’s different, Komaeda thought. So, what is it? Is he just a fragment? A distortion? Or...is there something that he knows that I don’t?

That last possibility sat with him. The doppelganger was close enough that they could breathe one another’s air. It was disquieting, especially with the way the doppelganger’s gaze flickered to his mouth.

The other smiled.

“No one else will be close to you like this, especially not Hinata-kun. Does that make you feel relief? Or a misery that’s deeper than despair?”

Had Komaeda underestimated his potential for depravity? If time went on, would this be what he’d become? What fortune could come from such a wretched existence?

No, he was getting distracted. As long as he could bring about the greatest hope, nothing else—

“That’s no good. You need to look at me.” A cold, almost skeletal hand cups his cheek, tilts him back to the doppelganger. Komaeda stared at his reflection, both the tangible thing and within those murky depths that grew darker ever darker. “Let me ask you a question. Who am I?”

Komaeda opened his mouth and closed it. In a rare moment of hesitance that he hated himself more for, he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“If you can’t figure it out, you’ll lose yourself forever,” the other said, caressing his cheek now. “Poor, poor Komaeda-kun. You can’t count on another’s kindness.”

The other’s touch was still so cold. Komaeda felt the flutter of a familiar pulse in that spindly wrist, brushing against his jaw.

Was this good luck or bad luck?

As the other leaned in further, Komaeda found himself thinking of a normal sunny day that fizzles into nothing.

[chosos-husband]

Would an angsty jealous fem reader x lifeweaver fic be doable? Where shes jealous bc lifeweaver likes to flirt around with the others and it ends in her wanting to quit working with overwatch bc she gets hurt watching him with others? Happy ending please! One where they get together hwheh thank you!

Ugh Lifeweaver my BELOVED. Literally love this man so much. Thank you so much for requesting qwq!! Also sry this took forever! I am in college, and it has been screwing me over lately lmfao. Hope you enjoy it :3

I also forgot that I will be writing the reader with neutral identity unless otherwise stated. Thanks!

Niran, in general, was a flirtatious person. He always made cute comments towards the people that he was closer to. Even to those he had just met, he would give the sweetest remarks about something he saw in them.

He had a talent of seeing the best in those around him. Everything living had beauty and value to him. Niran had a calling to protect this inherit beauty.

Of course, this did not end with you. Every message from him was signed off with something just to make you smile. It was impossible to not love him, even if it was just a little. It was hard to not love someone who made you blush every day.

As time passed on, you did learn to love him, a lot actually. You made excuses to visit his office and made reasons for you two to work together, even if there was no logical explanation for that decision.

You learned to admire Niran in the same way he did you. You appreciated him as a being. Physically, he was stunning. Anyone could agree with that. However, you feel in love with him entirely, a large component of that being in his words and actions.

It was easy to feel special with him. It was as natural as breathing to love him.

It's why it burned so much to see him talk that same way to others. For awhile, it was just you. He would only really speak to you in this way. But, quite suddenly, he started talking like that to others.

You analyzed what those peers had that you didn't. You didn't know what Niran's type was, as it kinda seemed like everyone was.

He would compliment their outfits and style. You couldn't help but wonder if that's what he would have preferred out of you. It was simplistic to fall into the trap of what he would have preferred. What would make him adore you as much as you did him.

As more time passed, you grew angry with him. It was cruel. That he would give the impression that you were special to him. Just for him to run around and talk to other people the same way. It just wasn’t fair for him to do this to you.

You couldn’t look at him without him being angry. You couldn’t stand for him to compliment you anymore. You knew how he would be talking that way with just anyone else. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't special to him.

You started just ignoring what he said to you. You would roll your eyes or not respond. Niran tried asking if he was doing something to upset you. But you never answered him, you would simply walk away.

It got to the point where you just didn't want to see his face anymore. Even if he only spoke to you again, it didn't matter. You didn't want to see him anymore. As, all it did was hurt.

You grew with frustration when Overwatch didn't accept your request to transfer departments. They stated that your work with Niran was important and that you two already agreed to work on that assignment together.

Niran looked by as you were putting things into a box. Everyone else had already left the building. You didn't want to make leaving a big scene. You didn't want anyone to question you or try to talk you out of it. It didn't even come to mind how Niran tended to stay later than everyone else did.

"y/n, what are you doing?" He frowned. He knew that you were angry with him. However, Niran still loved you and he didn't want to see you leave.

"Why do you care?" You snapped back. You continued to pack things into boxes.

"I care about you. We've worked together for a long time now. Why do you think I wouldn't?" Niran stepped close to you, which just made you more irritated.

"Don't even try to pull that with me anymore. If you care about me, you wouldn't talk to me like that. You wouldn't flirt with me and then act like I'm nothing the second I step away and there is someone else to talk to. I'm not special to you." You rambled. If you were thinking rationally, you would have seen the hurt in his eyes. That, he hated the idea that he was hurting you this much and didn't even know it.

"That's just the way I speak, it isn't personal, y/n." Niran tried to explain, but you weren't really listening.

"It doesn't matter. I'm leaving Overwatch anyway. You can tell them that when I don't come in tomorrow."

"You can't leave! Our work is together. I work with you and that's the only way it will continue to grow. I can't continue this project alone. "

"Why should I care now?"

"Why are you angry?" Niran was starting to get frustrated with you. Though, he was very good about keeping his anger in check. He just didn't understand how he was supposed to know you were upset without you talking to him.

"Because I loved you and it felt like you loved me back. But I don't mean shit to you. Do I, Niran? Aren't I just some other person in this lab to you?

Niran's eye widened a little bit. The confession was sudden, but provoked. His normal confident, charming demeanor fluttered. He was blushing.

Your confusion grew as you could see him looking for any implication of sarcasm.

"Are you serious?" Niran smiled a little bit. His tone was soft and no longer defensive.

"Why lie now? I'm leaving anyway." You shrugged. There was a level of embarrassment to it. That you are confessing to someone just before running away.

"I do love you. I have for quite a long time really."

Your entire expression softened. Now, you were trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic.

"You don't act like it. I don't really believe you, Niran."

"I have. I wasn't sure how to talk to you. I tried. But I wasn't sure you were interested at all. I only started talking to others to get over it. But I can't say that I ever did. I never stopped thinking about you in that way. I just didn't want to say it and ruin our friendship." He paused. "But I guess I did that anyway, didn't I?"

You stood there, looking into the box that you had on your chair. Maybe this was all just a silly misunderstanding. Perhaps you were just being jealous and refusing to talk to him about it.

"Are you willing to give me another chance?" Niran asked, making you look up. You hesitated for answer for a moment.

"I think I will."

~~

A few months later, you two are cuddling in his room. He definitely appreciated showing his affection through actions. You were laying on top of him, your head resting against his chest. Initially, you were counting his heartbeats, but he kept talking to you and making you forget which number you were on.

"Thank you for giving me another chance y/n." Niran put his fingers through your hair.

"I wouldn't if you weren't so pretty." You were just teasing and it made him smile.

"Then, I'm glad that I am. I don't want to imagine a life where I'm not with you." Those stupid words again. You could feel your face getting a little hot.

"Hush now, I'm going to bed."

Niran was awake a little longer than you. He couldn't stop thinking about this. He was scared that he almost lost you. That him not being able to say it made your relationship almost never happen.

But, he had you now and you had his complete, unforgiving attention.

[fatuismooches]

Thinking about Dottore with a reader that's very quiet and a more minds their own business kind of person, kind of like lynette.

I imagine as children, reader didn't really have friends because they weren't very social. And... who else didn't have friends? Zandik. Reader accidentally stumbled upon him while he was reading in that little clearing in the forest while they were exploring. At first they just kind of silently stare at each other, unsure of one another. Zandik definitely questions them at first, but he's either met with silence or very blunt and short answers. They just shrug him off and look for rocks in the river nearby.

But they keep coming back, sometimes they'll just sit quietly near him and do their own thing, sometimes they'd try to make conversation, but usually only if he speaks to them first. The friendship happens rather slowly I think, but I imagine it really forms when they start to quietly bring back items for him (random mechanical parts they find, interesting fauna and the like)

I think in the akademiya, certain students would have tried to take advantage of them... Being so nondescript and quiet, they were an easy target. And even more so when considering they were friends with Zandik. They would tried to blackmail them into giving them their research or to do their work, make up rumors about them and Zandik. Of course, when Zandik finds out he's utterly livid (it might have taken a while to find out too... considering he would spend as much time as possible in his dorm and not around those empty skulled scholars and reader wasn't exactly one to express their troubles...) he promptly scares them off by threatening them and maybe breaking a finger or two <3

With Dottore, they act as his assistant. They just like to be in the same room as him, not always needing to even talk. They're a good listener, and they try to help out whenever Dottore has a problem with an experiment. His subordinates definitely don't understand how the 2nd harbinger of all people would be with such a weak looking and nondescript person. But they keep their mouths shut out of fear of punishment. Dottore's clones definitely enjoy messing with reader though... though not to the point where its overwhelming. Just crowding reader and all of the segments trying to cuddle them all at once since they don't really say anything about it.

IM ASCENDING AT THIS... IT'S TOO CUTE. Zandik would be wary and cautious of you at first, because all the other kids were loud and always had something to say, mostly whispers about him right in front of his face, but you? You literally have... nothing to say, which confuses him at first, even after he questions you. You're really not gonna say anything about the outcast? He's never seen you with the other children before and so he wonders briefly about your identity. And the way you just left without doing anything? He's a bit intrigued.

The curiosity only grows when you return, again and again. Initially, he's annoyed at your lack of responses, but he grows to accept it and actually likes it. Zandik likes how you aren't annoying, you keep the peacefulness he enjoys as he does whatever things he does. Sometimes you even help him without complaint or argument. He appreciates that, and he does appreciate whatever little gifts you get him first (although of course, he's suspicious of your ulterior motive and will take them prudently... he's still assessing you) Hehe, i can imagine you two investigating all the plants in the forest and he's rattling off a bunch of information while you just write them down silently.

Oh I LOVE THAT... Zandik scaring off those pathetic bullies and making sure no one dares to mess with you again. I imagine you would also be kind of awkwardly silent after that, only giving him a small thank you, because even with being childhood friends with him, you've never seen him that pissed... but it still warms your heart to know he'd go that out of his way for you. Though I imagine he's a bit peeved at you for keeping this to yourself... he doesn't understand why you'd let these nobodies walk all over you. I'm being a bit delulu here but maybe he was also a bit upset at himself for not being able to read you well enough to know you were troubled. Sure, you don't really express yourself that much... but with you being the only person he enjoys interacting with, he should have known.

Reader being his number one assistant of course, a staple in Dottore fics 🤭💖 Being the only one who understands him and his personality, I imagine you're the voice of reason and persuading... because when you speak, it's going to be something important. Other people may not understand, but you two do and that's all that matters. (Reader is living the life though... being cuddled by all of the clones 😓😓😓)

[fifthpilot]

More scattered observations about these photos; first: Vash taking this ONE picture only, and not any of the other pictures of ship 3 is because 1) ship 3 being his "home" will never replace his true home, and 2) he was 100% protecting Nai's identity.

The story shows us all the little ways Vash still cares so deeply about Nai, even when he points a gun at him, runs away from him, refuses to bend to his will. He still loves Nai so much. And he won't let anyone interfere with what's his to deal with, not only out of a sense of responsibility, but because Vash will never forget the extent of cruelty humans can go to. He's seen what they did to an innocent tesla, it's nauseating to imagine what they'd do to a guilty Nai. Vash can only trust himself to deal with Knives, and this is his way of protecting him.

Second, there's something so painfully artificial about the photos hung on his wall. and why they're all of him when he was still a child, there weren't any recent photos of him when he was teen (6yrso lmao), really forces us to address why that is.

There are many guesses we can come up with, but one I think is more believable was that ship 3 love bombed the shit out of Vash when they finally started "accepting him". He went from being a "monster" and a "freak" to playing with them and being involved in all their activities.

The pictures stop when the love bombing works, they don't need to keep it up, they don't have to keep taking pictures anymore, they've got him on a leash (and yes I understand this could be a bias interpretation because I'm not the fondest of ship 3, but the fact that there isn't a single photo of teen vash with ship 3 anywhere in his room is hardly a coincidence).

Everything we're seeing has been constructed with precision, every detail carefully measured (at least based on the level of passion and quality of this show) Which is why I'd like to think about this and theorize the possible reasons behind it (but let me know your thoughts).

Third and maybe last, when Vash turns here to address that photo, he's not only thinking about home, but seems to turn mid conversation with himself, like he's talking to his family. How many times was he speaking to himself & looked at that photo like he were speaking to them.

It's just really cute but heart breaking. The photo also being in the center implied that it was definitely the first picture he put up on the wall. Makes me wonder what Vash's room looked like on ship 5, hope we can get to see that in the final phase.

[fdelopera]

I....I tried to write a response to the latest Moon Knight discourse and ended up writing a 10 page annalysis on the first four years run of Moon Knight. I'm not good at things...

BUT ANYWAYS.

I haven't read City of the Dead yet (I will read it because I need to see the directions Moon Knight is being taken by each writer so I can keep up my scarily intense spread sheet), but I have seen the discussions and images.

While Marc is not practicing his religion, he is still wrestling with G-D.

He has wrestled with his own sense of self, his spiritualism, his upbringing, his family, his own life and death, and even swaying from being materialistic and giving up everything.

He wrestles with G-D constantly. Challenging the teachings, circles back to them, follows them, breaks them... Every step of his way has been in direct defiance or on the path.

He ran from his father's teachings to be violent and live a life of destruction and pain. In doing so, he learned guilt and forgiveness. He learned the value of life when he took it.

In his death, he saw his own mortality and then rejected it.

I also am starting to wonder if his relationship with Khonshu (comics only) is in his own mind a reaction to his relationship with G-D and his culture.

He serves Khonshu for the life he was given but he resents Khonshu for the path he has taken. He views the powers he was given as a gift and a curse. He goes long stints of ignoring him then grows angry when he calls out and Khonshu doesn't answer.

He argues with Khonshu, rebels, defies him, and always comes back. He hates him and he honors him. He wears the outfit, the mission, the symbols, but he is not going to pray to him or follow the path as dictated.

The biggest difference is that Marc would never declare Khonshu a superior god or outright worship him. He view Khonshu as a being that has a higher power, but that cannot control him. He was not made by Khonshu or in his image. Khonshu is a being that has latched onto him like a parasite and Marc speaks to him in challenge to his ideal of G-D.

I always found it interesting that Marc, written as a Rabbi's son, would fall in with an Egyptian god. A god that was probably around and being worshiped during the exodus.

I've always seen Marc's relationship with Khonshu as another way for him to fight who he is. Who he was supposed to be and who he turned out to be.

Steven, on the other hand, has never been a big Khonshu fan. He loaths the jerk and sees him for what he is (something the show got right). He accepts Khonshu because he recognizes that he can give Marc what he needs to thrive. Keep him alive. Keep him from harming them. Keep him fighting and searching for himself.

I think Steven is not exactly practicing the religion, but upholds a lot of the culture. He's fancy and snotty, but he likes the comfort of ritual.

You are 100% right that Jake is probably the one that keeps the faith in their system. He guards their soul and keeps them humble. He probably would have gotten along with their father to a point. Be a member of the people and help those that need it.

I don't see Marc as an atheist or a true agnostic, but at times he would probably claim he is. I think he is a man that struggles with his religious upbringing so hard that he accidentally embodies it.

While Moon Knight is about a lot of things, I think catholic guilt needs to stay with Dare Devil. I think Moon Knight is about finding and struggling with identity. Always has been. Identity of where you come from, who you are, who you were supposed to be, who you are spiritually and with yourself. Perhaps that is a very Jewish thing to seek?

And I think that this gets written very poorly at times and often forgotten. He will never stand outside of a church and moan about failing god and his culture. But he will put on a kippah and wonder about who he was supposed to be if he had seen that his father was not a coward, but a man trying to change his own path in a world that fell down.

Your analyses are brilliant, as always. What a gift to receive this in my inbox!

Marc's Jewish journey is the journey of so many Jewish people, especially in the decades following the Holocaust and the attempted eradication of the Jewish people.

MacKay describes this beautifully in his run. He captures the sorrow and anger that many Jews have felt towards G-d for the pogroms, the Holocaust, the thousands of years of persecution. Why has G-d abandoned us? Why should we worship a G-d who feels like He is indifferent to us and our suffering?

Marc's anger at G-d is understandable. He witnessed his father, an Orthodox rabbi, be measured and compassionate in the face of antisemitic violence. Marc wanted to take up the Shield of David and destroy those who would hurt his people further.

But that is not the way, not anymore.

After the Romans destroyed the Second Temple and razed Jerusalem to the ground in 70 CE, Judaism had to change. It had to adapt. The Temple was gone, the priesthood was destroyed, and the Jewish people had to figure out how to continue to offer up to G-d. Without the priests offering sacrifices to G-d in the Temple, how would the Jews continue on as a people?

Out of the ashes of that war, Rabbinical Judaism was born. Torah study became the way that Jews offer up to G-d, as it still is today. Judaism became a religion of learning, debate, and discourse, not a religion of war. That is how Judaism would survive.

It's understandable then that Marc would look at the nearly two thousand years of history that came after the destruction of the Second Temple and see only weakness. Jews were slaughtered by the hundreds of thousands. They were sold into slavery and forced to emigrate to Europe. They were sentenced to live in squalor in ghettos and slums. They lived in constant fear of violence at the hands of Christians. And once they seemed to have reached a place of equilibrium, a new Christian power would rise and force them to flee, convert, or die. Pogrom after pogrom, ghetto after ghetto, Jews were marched throughout history towards what was intended to be the utter end. The final solution to the "Jewish question." Then they would die by the millions in the kind of coordinated extermination that only the Romans had been able to attempt before.

Marc looks at Jewish history and he rightly sees a history of pain. He is filled with righteous anger at the way his people have been persecuted, and he wants to lash out. But his rabbi father tells him no, that is not the way. That is not who we are as Jews.

And so Marc rejects the G-d of his father, and he joins the military. He needs a place that will let him channel his anger. And when the military rejects him, he becomes a mercenary. And finally his anger reaches its logical conclusion: death. And yet he does not die. He is resurrected by a god who allows him to pursue justice in the way he has wanted to, through blood.

But Khonshu takes Marc’s righteous need for justice — “tzedek, tzedek, tirdof” (justice, justice you shall pursue) — and the old god twists it into a desire for vengeance and retribution.

Marc has never worshipped Khonshu as a deity, but he does contractually serve the old god as an entity of vengeance. He sees Khonshu as a means to an end — as a means to protect the vulnerable and enact justice on evildoers — and yet he knows deep down that this end doesn’t justify the means he used to get there.

There is a responsibility, a burden, to being a Jew. We are responsible for leading a moral and ethical life, and we are responsible for working towards justice and equality in society. Our duty is to community, not to individualist desires. We have an obligation to the mitzvah of tzedakah, which comes from the word tzedek (justice), and means charitable giving that advances social justice. We have an obligation towards “tikkun olam,” or “repairing the world.”

These are all aims that Marc has pursued, and yet he’s pursued them out of a place of personal pain and anger. He has burned his life down more times than he can count, which has only fueled that pain and anger more.

Yet he’s still trying. And he’s starting to recognize what that pain and anger have cost him. As MacKay writes in the panels above:

“You couldn’t understand before why I take being the fist of Khonshu so seriously, when it’s cost me so much. Cost me everything. It’s because I don’t have anything else left. If I’m not the Fist of Khonshu, whatever I choose to understand that as, then I’m just Marc Spector, the man who makes the wrong choice every time. The man who threw away his religion, his heritage. Killed what family he didn’t bury. The man who brought harm and trauma to everyone who ever cared about him. The man who can’t breathe from the guilt closing over his head, thick as seawater and twice as bitter … I’d rather be anyone else other than that guy.”

While MacKay’s assessment of why Marc is part of a system is pretty problematic in these panels (really wish he hadn't included the line, "No wonder I developed DID," because that only increases stigma), MacKay does get the essence of the Jewish guilt that Marc feels.

Jewish guilt is not guilt for individual sin, like it is in Catholicism. This is one of the big problems that I have with the way that David Pepose is writing Marc in "City of the Dead." Feeling guilty about sin is a Christian notion, and doesn’t really figure in Jewish thought. Jewish guilt is the anguish we feel when we choose selfish, individualist aims that harm our community, our people.

And this is the beauty of MacKay’s run. MacKay understands Marc’s experience of guilt. MacKay’s Marc feels that he “[brings] harm and trauma to everyone who ever cared about him.”

And the natural resolution to that guilt, the way Marc is trying to atone for his actions that have hurt so many, is the establishment of the Midnight Mission. Marc starts the Mission without Khonshu’s direction. This is not part of his contract with the old god.

I think that in the Midnight Mission, we see Marc’s effort to reconnect with his Jewish faith. This is Marc trying to give tzedakah, this is his attempt at tikkun olam. He wants to serve the marginalized and disenfranchised, as he once did (during Moench’s original Moon Knight run). He wants to help his community, his people. And so he opens his doors to those that society has also rejected, and he gives them a home.

And this is really the path forward for many Jewish people. This is how we can channel our sorrow and anger at a legacy of thousands of years of persecution. This is what it is to be the "chosen people." As Jews, we are chosen to have extra responsibilities based on the covenant with G-d. A simple understanding is this: we are not "chosen" to be special; we are "chosen" to do the dishes. As Jews, it is our duty to pursue justice and help those in need.

And it is incredibly meaningful that Jed MacKay, a gentile, has taken the time and done the research to really understand this.

[impossiblesuitcase]

K your requests are closed but you said you would accept my one. (Thks btw) This can take place anytime after the series (when cinder is on Luna, when they are engaged or married etc) basically the idea is that Kai starts getting extremely bad headaches one day. Like so bad that he has had to leave the room to go throw up from the pain, and is constantly zoning out etc. He doesn’t tell anyone cause he thinks he should be able to handle it. And then one day Torin is like “you know your dad had migraines too.” And he finally goes to the doctor for it. It’s mostly Kai and torin but you can certainly add as much Kaider as you want.

Elwin also received this prompt and wrote a fabulous fic. Make sure you read it!

Take What I'm Handed

My love

Hey love, feeling any better?

You

Not really

My love

:(

Hows your head?

You

Like the entire Rampion engine is firing in my skull.

My love

My poor sweetheart. 

Have you been working?

You

Not this morning. I’m trying to stay away from screens before my brain bleeds out

My love

Then voice comm me so you don’t have to look at the screen

You

I’m in a meeting

My love

Important?

You

Earthen Union

My love

So not important ;)

What’s it about

You

Hey there missy, since when are you entitled to know?

I seem to recall you abdicating the throne seven months ago

You can’t have your cake and eat it too

My love

I will eat all the cake I want :P

You

It’s for mandatory declaration of status as a lunar at international borders

My love

Ah

Vargas will like that

You

Of course. You know Americans

My love

We know one American and that’s enough

here let me prepare an answer for you

The greater issue to consider here is how this bill will be received by the provinces. The mandatory declaration of origin at international borders has traditionally been a residual power decided on a state by state basis. Adding Lunars into this heated issue does not change legislation. If we exclude the provinces from discussions in these mandates, it could be perceived as an aggressor.  

How did I go?

“Your Majesty.”

Kai startled, ripping burning eyes from his port to the holograph. 

A line of portraits floated before the conference room—world leaders and their cookie-cutter identical representatives. The speaker’s portrait was lit up, emblazoned with a United Kingdom; as if any breathing soul could even enter such a high-ranking meeting without knowing all present. 

All present were staring at him.

Releasing his port with a jolt—and a loud thud—Kai garbled a, “Pardon, Your Majesty?”

Queen Camilla’s pencilled eyebrow quirked. It was difficult to know what she really thought under that impeccable diplomatic visage, but Kai had been raised to speak that language. It could be:

It’s your turn (kind and prompting).

It’s your turn (desperate to be freed from this tedious meeting).

It’s your turn (speak, incompetent moron).

Judging by her pursed lips, Kai guessed it was a combination of those last two.

“We are awaiting your response,” she said plainly.

“Right,” he started, with absolutely no inkling of where his words should go. “My apologies. I trust this is referring to the, uh, the mandatory declaration of status as a Lunar at international borders?”

“Yes, it isin relation to the sole topic we’ve been discussing for the past hour,” intoned Governor-General Williams of Australia, near-glaring. Kai appreciated the bluntness.

“Thank you. I just wondered if…there was…a…specific point in this matter that you were referring to. So I can verify with my notes before contributing,” he lied, knowing he hadn’t intended to present anything in this meeting. He just hoped one of the other Commonwealth representatives—ones who were currently capable of breathing without their intestines tying around their lungs—had already spoken on his behalf. “The Eastern Commonwealth’s position remains unchanged.”

“Forgive me if I misspeak, but I do believe your country is yet to offer anything on this matter thus far,” Camilla observed, tone devoid of any request for forgiveness.

Ah, so option three: speak, incompetent moron.

“Th-that is correct, my sincerest apologies again. I was referring to our position as discussed in our private meetings”—(meetings he hadn’t attended, though he’d briefly skimmed over the minutes at breakfast that morning)—“and I mistakenly assumed we had already expressed those views today. Our stance is…is…”

His eyes fell to his port, fingers primed to race for those minutes when he saw Cinder’s last message on the split screen. 

His brain barely paused to screen them before the words tumbled from his mouth.

“The greater issue to consider here,” he recited haltingly, “is as to how this bill will be received by the provinces. The mandatory declaration of origin at international borders has traditionally been a residual power decided on a state-by-state basis.” Heart calming, he eased his tone, donning the veil of a well-rehearsed speech. “Folding Lunars into this inflammatory mix does not alter legislation. If we exclude the provinces from discussions in these mandates, it could be perceived as an aggressor.”

Mind clearer as the panic subsided, he looked up gravely, concluding, “I think we can all agree that after the cataclysmic ramifications of the war, none of us desire the possibility of internal insurgence.”

A crackle of static crossed the connection. All were voiceless.

Is this not what they’d been discussing? Is it obvious he hasn’t paid attention?

Then Camilla’s nose pinched, reminiscent of a teacher’s glower when they’d pick on an inattentive student, expecting floundering, only to receive the correct answer. Smarting over the rebuff, poor concealment to save face. Yet she wasn’t disagreeing. Nor did any of the others fire back some warmed-up-leftovers retort.

“That is…not something we’ve yet considered,” she conceded.

Stars bless his woman.

You

Thank you.

My love

You used it?

I tried my best to sound like you

You

It was a lifesaver.

Though I changed a few words.

My love

Which ones?

You

Heated is a bit general. I used inflammatory.

My love

Ooh ill add it to my ‘fancy politician speak’ list.

“And what does the EC propose we do to prevent seditious mentalities arising from the provinces?” asked Prime Minister Kamin of Africa after several points Kai hadn’t heeded to passed.

Autopilot. “Considering this matter concerns the provinces, should we not turn to the provinces? I suggest” —Stars he is just making this up as he goes—“we first hold counsel with the province representatives individually. With impartial moderators of course.” (Nice, that’ll make it sound fleshed out.) “Once the opinions of each province are compiled, we can adjourn again to find the best strategy moving forward.”

Don’t see it as a cop-out to end this meeting. Don’t see it as a cop-out to end this meeting. This totally a cop-out.

President Vargas of the American Republic cleared his throat. The person who had introduced this bill, the person with a propensity for dragging a meeting through sleeplessness, hunger, and absolute thirst until he got his way. Kai felt everyone brace for argument, but Vargas simply commented, “That seems to be the most logical plan for the time being,” Oh, thank you, loud American man.

“I agree,” said Grand Minister Clay of Luna, always kindly looking even with the grimmest of subjects. He had been noticeably quiet this meeting; understandably, as he had held this position for less than a year and the Union were still not in the practise of including Luna in debates about Luna. “Luna only wants its citizens to interact with yours in peaceful, harmonious relations. We will do all we can from our side of the atmosphere to accommodate these adjustments in what is, as we recognise, an incendiary issue.”

A murmur of polite agreement. Good. Everyone’s happy. The end. Now. Please.

My love

Finished?

You

I wish.

Incendiary. From Jacin’s dad.

My love

adding some flavour. It makes the list.

谢谢

You

‘You’re welcome’ in Mandarin

My love

You’re too tired to type it out? You are sick

Here

不客气 

You

不客气

Thanks

My love

Have you eaten yet?

You

Yeah. I threw up ten minutes later.

My love

Get some water into you and go to bed after youre done

You

Can’t. I’ve got two more meetings

My love

No you dont. Go to bed

You

I might feel better by then

My love

Kaito

You

I’ll rest before then

Promise

———

He didn’t rest.

Kai trudged to his office, feet clawing on the carpet. His shoes were sure to be scuffed. That was all right; maybe he could throw one against his temple to knock himself out of his misery. 

The meeting had ended later than scheduled, as per usual. Then when the connections beeped out, his own staff had turned to him with ready-made speeches for the meeting after the meeting. It was terribly impolite how he’d blown them off and stumbled out to the hallway.

It was also terribly hard to care.

His hand skimmed the wall as he turned a corner. Eyes resolutely closed, he had never been so glad to live in this palace his whole life, for he knew the path just by sense. His stomach was roiling yet ravenous.

Four more steps, instinct reminded him.

Cold hands grazed a door frame. Kai fumbled, eyes still sealed, until he found the scanner and flashed his wrist, waiting for the whoosh of the sliding door.

Silence.

He flashed his wrist again.

One, two, three seconds.

Hailing a thousand planets’ worth of strength, he forced his eyes open. Kai centred his wrist where the scanner’s electronic beam should lie. Except there was none. 

“Wha—”

“It’s locked.”

He jerked and spun to the voice, surprised to be surprised to see his adviser seated in an armchair by the window. Of course—Torin had been at the Union meeting. And now he was here for the next meeting, to be held in precisely thirty-four minutes. 

“Well,” he spoke, tongue iron in his mouth. “Can…can we unlock it?”

“No.”

“…No?”

“I locked it, Your Majesty.”

Kai smacked his lips, hand still hovering beneath the scanner. It took a significantly long moment before he uttered, “...Why?”

Torin abruptly stood, brushed down his suit and approached him. His mouth was set in a fine line, eyes enigmatic black. Kai momentarily felt that he should be bowing to this man as his superior, not the other way around.

His adviser procured something from his suit pocket, folding Kai’s fingers around it. A small silver flask, cool to the touch.

Kai held it. Stared at it dumbly.

“Ahem.”

Fingers waking under the discipline, he quickly untwisted the cap and brought the flask to his nose. He gave a cautionary sniff to scan for anything deadly—coffee would surely murder him. Finding it scentless, he drank. Water. He drank, drank, drank.

Once the flask was drained, Torin pulled it back to his possession. “This way,” he said, extending a hand towards the corridor.

Kai’s budding question died as Torin began striding away. His office door sung out to him—promising escape, promising rest. 

He could cancel that meeting. He could just not show.

But it was important. It was always so important. The mere fact that his country was still his and united and free was not to be understated.

He would take what he was handed. The burden, no, the responsibility that had been bestowed.

Three corridors in, no explanation had been offered. The hope that he was being led to his quarters was quashed on the cross-path to the sixteenth floor, where Torin diverted to the left. From the corner of his periphery, Kai noticed Torin studying him with a strong expression.

Great. He’s probably here to toss me a pack of painkillers, a ‘toughen up’ pep talk and force me into the meeting early.

Rather than do any of those things, Torin proffered him a pair of sunglasses. “Shield your eyes.”

He was frighteningly prepared. Slipping them on, Kai began blinking rapidly as the hallway was sucked of light. The sting behind his irises soothed. It did help. But his brain was still bleeding out of his ears, and every step, no matter how delicate, sent a throb up his spine. “Torin, I don’t think I can—”

“Just a moment, Kai.”

Kai was gently steered into a door that he had never noticed before, despite having walked this path countless times. Once inside, and only once he processed that they’d stopped walking, he realised it was an elevator. Not like the other elevators in the palace with their polished mahogany and dragon emblems and Edo period landscapes as the wallpaper. This was a plain stainless steel. It didn’t even have an android standing by.

“This is a servant’s elevator,” Torin supplied, expecting the curiosity. “It is a more direct route to our destination. I also believed you’d find the fewer guards along this path preferable.”

Yes. The less people who saw him like this, the better.

A disorientating swoop landed in his belly as they descended five floors. Ten. Thirteen. Then, the doors whished apart—with Kai’s genuine gasp—to blue, blue skies.

The cold hit his bones like a shockwave. The sunshine hit his skin like a prayer.

They trickled out of the lift into the immaculate paradise of the Imperial Palace Gardens. The buds were in bloom, the grass wet and dewy. Birds larked happily—the sound too beautiful to be bothersome to tired ears. Kai gaped in the wonder as they walked this unknown path, ignoring the complaints from his aching temples.

When was the last time he’d been out here?

A chilly afternoon drifted before him, the last before Cinder had left for another ambassadorial stint. They’d had a picnic lunch under the willow tree on the east side of the garden. The leaves were brown and wilting. Cinder had cosied up to him to fight the crisp wind and sprinkled bark in his hair.

Winter.

He hadn’t been outside in a whole season.

“Kai,” called a calm voice. Torin was gesturing to a shady hollow amongst shrubs and trees. Slivers of sunlight flickered and shone down upon plush grass and foxglove blooms and pussy willows. In the centre of the flora was a wooden pavilion.

Torin brushed past him to set up the pillows already resting there. He patted the deck invitingly.

Kai didn’t need to be told twice. Shucking off his suit jacket and tossing it aside, he collapsed onto his back. His tendons groaned at the unforgiving mattress of wood, but Kai didn’t care. He was as content as a cooing baby in a cot.

The pavilion was small, but enough to accommodate all of Kai’s five feet and eleven inches. He gulped in the sweet scent of jasmine and breathed with the beats of the wind whistling through hollyhocks. Time passed; something vaguely prodded at him, badgering on about being back on time for his meetings.

Eh, Torin can force me back inside when he must.

At least, he assumed Torin had stayed. He was yet to hear the rustle of a wool suit and departing footsteps, though he doubted his woozy mind would notice.

Throat dry and hoarse, he tested, “How’d you know about this place?”

Birds chirped in response. Wind added its opinion. But no voice of his adviser.

He’d left.

But then, softly: “You are certainly not the first to struggle with the pressures of palace life.”

“Are you implying you’ve had moments of inability? You?” Kai laughed, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t joke, Torin.”

“I’m sure it is a great shock to you.” The response was more humoured than he’d heard in a while. The last time Torin had allowed such openness had been early in Cinder’s reign, when he’d informed her that she was not in fact bowing to the prince and princess of the United Kingdom, but the delivery florists.

(Kai didn’t think he’d laughed so hard since.)

“I am not as indestructible or unperturbed as I exert myself to appear, Kai. Nor should you have to be.”

Cracking open an eye, Kai glanced weakly at him. The perpetual frown was as present as if it were carved out of marble. Yet the slightest glimmer in his outstretched gaze warmed the stone.

“This place belonged to your father.” His voice assumed a warm, reminiscent timbre. “He and his father —your grandfather—built it together during one of Rikan’s school holidays. In later years, Rikan would come here when he required a reprieve from the necessities demanded of an emperor.”

Kai smiled at the thought of his father and grandfather together, working on a project—an idyllic image of bonding. His grandfather had died when Kai was too young to remember him, making Rikan a very young emperor. Kai had since claimed that record. His grandmother had died his last year of high school. As for his mother, her family originated from Japan and still lived there. None of them had ever been fond of his mother’s decision to marry a prince, so while his maternal grandparents sent gifts every year, they’d only promised to come visit to officially meet their granddaughter-in-law-to-be. “Why didn’t dad ever take me here?” he wondered aloud. “If he’d made it with Zǔfù…”

“Rikan was a good father. But he was also a young, troubled widower.” A sigh. “He came here to relieve those frustrations. He only ever wanted to give you the best of him; perhaps that’s why he did not bring you.”

A brown leaf blew in from the wind, a remnant from winter. Torin caught it in mid-air, crumpling it in his fist.

Kai recalled many things after his mother’s death, but the image of dad crying was obscured. The months following, Rikan had devoted himself to time with his son; outings, ice creams and bike rides, hugs and hot milk before bedtime. Kai had wondered at the time if his dad was a superhero, because he seemed to handle the pain that was suffocating Kai with such ease. Now older, a well-acquainted unwilling friend of grief, Kai guessed those tears had been shed into his mother’s pillow at night.

“He always did,” Kai confirmed, turning to his side. The breeze kissed his chin. “I wish he were here.” I wish he’d cried with me. I wish he’d let me see that it was okay.

“As do I.”

His eyes fluttered as he breathed, thinking of Cinder. More and more as he aged, he understood what his father felt when his mother died. To lose Cinder…he feared the person he would become. She was everything to him. She was everything that helped him stay him. For his father to smile and endure and lead the nation with conviction proved yet again that Rikan was a far greater man than himself.

“He was much stronger than me.”

“That is hardly true,” Torin reprimanded coldly.

A chuckle bubbled in Kai’s throat, the image of a young prince being scolded by a tall, stern-faced adviser flitting by his memories.

“Don’t laugh. Your father would not want you to believe him an infallible saint.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He exhaled loudly through his nostrils, an eye roll in Konn Torin language. “Your father struggled just as any person under such conditions would.”

“Yeah, he struggled. Me, I collapse.”

 A scoff. “Do you know what would happen when you father struggled?”

“No.”

“He would develop migraines.”

Kai froze. A pointed look was aimed his way.

“Anxiety is normal. It’s healthy, in a way. It motivates you to do things well, knowing their negative results if you do not. But worrying about the anxiety, overexerting yourself in hopes of pre-empting that anxiety…”

He didn’t need to finish. Kai knew he was doing better than the eighteen-year-old orphan who had just lost his father and inherited half the world. But vast experience two more years did not make.

“You deserve respite, Kai. Do not be ashamed to take it.” Torin hesitated, an uncommon sight. “I…I won’t always be here to tell you to take care of yourself.”

A smile curled over dry lips. “Soon I’ll have an empress to do that.”

“Indeed. Still I am certain your fiancée would not want you to be overworking yourself as you are now.”

She doesn’t.

Torin opened his hand. The leaf he had claimed was now no more than a pile of brown ashes. Closing his eyes meditatively, succumbing to the cadence of the breeze, Torin seemed to be waiting. Trees kindly lowered their branches, inviting any wandering travellers to pass through.

Torin was patient. A burst of wind whistled overhead and at its loudest, he tossed the crumbs. Each piece scattered through the current, dancing a pas de deux in the exhilaration of freedom, and then they were gone.

Torin held out his empty palm. “You should always have someone you can lean upon when you struggle, Kai. But you must learn to stand up on your own.”

Planting his hands on the deck, Kai took a breath. He heaved himself upwards.

He took Torin’s hand. 

A fatherly smile, a tired smile, in tandem.

“Thank you,” said Kai.

Torin’s wrinkles creased back into that hard-set indifference. I’m proud of you, in Konn Torin language. He patted Kai’s knee. “I have postponed your meetings for today. Your office will unlock in three hours.”

“It’ll be the end of the workday by then,” Kai contested, laying back atop the pillow.

“Oh. What a shame.”

“Sarcasm?” A yawn as the suitcoat was tucked against his chest. “Cinder’s rubbing off on you.”

“We could all use a touch of her fiery spirit now and turn.”

Maybe. But right now, Kai just wanted Cinder’s icy calmness, when she’d kiss his head and pull him in her arms. Determination and drive could wait for tomorrow.

His head throbbed a quieter drumbeat, syncopated by the footsteps that clipped away on the pebbles. Kai let his face muscles slack, his mind slip away, exhaustion excusing the lack of goodbye.

Something startled him from sleep.

He mumbled incoherently, rising on instinct and squinting at the silhouetted figure.

Torin put a hand to Kai’s chest, easing him back to the deck. “Easy there,” he soothed. He nestled something by Kai’s hip.

Blearily, Kai found the flask from before, refilled. A strip of medicine lay beside it.

“You have an appointment booked with Doctor Li at 13:00 tomorrow if you wish to attend.” A final smile. “Get some rest, Kai.”

There was the goodbye.

“Thanks Torin,” he called distantly with a slow wave, eyes drooping like sleepy autumn buds.

The sounds surrounding him were numerous and beautiful. Before he’d wished to be in the void of space for blessed silence; now he dreaded it. This lulled him like his mother’s voice and his father’s low laugh and Cinder’s humming.

He would take what he was handed. The compassion, the love, the promise of endurance.

Rest he would.

———

You

Did you sic Torin on me?

My love

Let me check the controlling every aspect of Kai’s life group chat

Nope i haven’t commed in a week

You

-_-

My love

Did he make you sleep

You

Yeah

My love

That’s great

He’s a good guy

I actually thought about comming him

But I kinda figured he’d be looking out for you anyway

You

I love you Cinder. You’re my whole world

My love

Sap

(Same)

Go to bed, handsome

You

<3

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @icarusignite @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @vincentvangothic @bakergirl13 @zsysartsandfics

why was this so easy to write yet so difficult to edit? Also I will probably go through and fix this again because I just wanted it out of my drafts. Okay byyyeeee!