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batsandbugs · 2 years

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Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-"

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?”

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. “I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?”

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

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beautifulsnake2162020 · 2 years

Text

Beautiful Anomaly (Part 3): Morpheus x FReader

(Gif by 11thstreetvigilante in this post: Karl Conveys His Warm Regards — Dream's a Dream @pirategamora (tumblr.com))

Morpheus x FemReader (present day, its a little hard to explain)

A couple of disclaimers:

1.) This is all based on the Netflix show and I have 0 background on the graphic novel it is based on (so don't expect it to be faithful);

2.) This is a fan work, the only benefit I derive from this is sharing it with the community.

We now come to part 3! I will admit that this might not be my best work 😅 Because I'm mainly setting up for Part 4. I am hoping I will manage to finish this story without exceeding Part 5 (Like maybe there's a Part 6 for the NSFW scenes because I know not everyone wants to read Smut so I separated it from the main story).

Like with Part 2 I will be pinning this so that there is due notice to the entire world (Aka action in rem hahaha sorry remedial law joke).

If it's your first time seeing this I encourage you to read it from the very beginning because some things might be confusing for you (especially in this chapter since I've brought some stuff back from Part 1). You can read part 1 here:

And you can read part 2 here:

I made it big so you have no choice but to notice it 😂

Taglist (if you want to be a part of the taglist just comment requesting so) : @winxschester @true-queen-of-mischief @laydreams @memento-mora @daydreamin1220 @kuchokitty @fate-huntress @igotanidea

BANG!

You awaken from the memory of your traumatic death from your last lifetime. It has been awhile since you've had a memory of yours play out in a dream. You're not sure what to make of it since you could barely remember any of the dreams you've had. But this dream, or rather this memory recently started to appear. Each time it appeared, it became more vivid.

It's almost as if the fates were trying to tell you something, while also tormenting your psyche like the sadists that they are. You aren't sure what they want from you, or if they were taunting your failure right back at you. Morpheus was still imprisoned, and you don't know what happened to Jessamy. A part of you wants to believe that she managed to escape. But all other parts of you upon reviewing what the memory has shown, it was more likely that like you she ended up dead. How you don't know, but with you dead she was definitely no longer concealed. If she didn't leave right away, she would definitely have gotten caught.

You didn't need to imagine what people could and would do to any animal they've caught that was causing them a huge inconvenience. You've had too many memories of moments that you couldn't look away from.

BANG!

Thunder strikes as the downpour of rain increases. It was rainy season in the tropical country you now call your home. Based on how strong the sounds of the downpour is, and approximately how the sky was dark enough to deceive you into thinking that you slept the whole day if it weren't for your wall clock and phone. It's about 8:30 in the morning, but because of the downpour your law school has declared that there are no classes for everyone's safety.

It was fortunate that your next class was still the day after tomorrow, allowing you some free time to think of anything other than what the legal definition of what an obligation is. You decide to send a message to a friend of yours who was a psychologist and who also had a scientific approach to interpreting your dreams. She's been doing this since high school. And you hope that she's online or at least she sees the message you've left her.

Hey, Nadia if you're free and mentally and emotionally available to give a dream analysis; I had a dream that has been recurring for some sleeps now. It gets pretty dark: I was stabbed to death multiple times and the last thing I felt was someone shooting me from behind? Well it was more vivid the last time I slept. This time I was able to see my killer's face and hair. He had on glasses and was blonde. He had a grin on his face that was so human and yet so inhuman. That must sound really weird, but its the best way I could describe it. You might be unsurprised by this, but I didn't think that committing murder would bring that much joy to anyone. If it was revenge for something I did, I'm not sure what it is. And if I'm going to die because somebody wanted revenge on me, I would at least like to know what it was before I pass.

Wondering what your dream analysis might make of this. Take care.

You didn't add that it was more of a memory of your past life. You didn't need her influenced by that fact. Maybe there was something hidden that you just weren't seeing. If it still didn't make sense to her (which you highly doubt since if given the chance she would psychoanalyze almost everything), then you would add it to your discussion. You press send, and hope that your Wi-Fi connection wasn't compromised. Even if the weather wants you to go back to sleep, you're scared to do so too soon.

BANG!

Thunder strikes the ground again. A little too close for comfort near your window sill.

This won't do.

You grab your yoga mat and set it on the floor. If anything happens, its rubber and would serve as an inductor if ever some lightning just so happens to suddenly enter indoors.

Maybe a yoga session by Sarah Beth Yoga would clear up your mind.

After you finish your session you see a message appear from someone you haven't heard from in awhile.

VF: Hello, I'm not sure if you're even awake now given our different time zones. But if you do see this and we're both online, I would really like to talk to you. I need your advice on something.

VF: Btw I hope you don't mind me changing my username.

You take a moment to briefly stretch and wipe of some of the sweat from your forehead before checking to see if he was online (he was), and before replying back.

Sure, just give me 30 minutes, then I'll vidcon you through messenger. I just finished yoga and need to freshen up.

You do your best to make yourself presentable. You unfurl your long black hair from it's fishtail braid and applied moisturizer for the sake of your skincare. Thanks to the braid, your hair has molded into what you call "controlled curls" which may still be prone to frizz because you live in a tropical climate near the equator with high humidity. But at least this way, it was much more elegant than just a chaotic mess of frizzy hair.

You briefly glance out the window to check if the rain is still strong. From the looks of it, it has lightened up enough to allow some brightness outside, and the downpour has been reduced. Good. This means the internet will be stronger.

You begin the call and a young man who was about the same age as you currently were, of Indian descent is on the screen. You couldn't help but smile as you see how much he has grown over time.

"Hello Jared."

"Hello father-um I mean mother."

"Jared my son, you know I don't mind you calling me father. That is what you called me when I conceived you in your first lifetime with your mother. And its just the two of us here. Is there something wrong with your reincarnated life?"

"No-nothing majorly wrong with my life so far - and I know you don't mind, but I want to respect your current pronouns." You see him take a breath as you see him anxious.

"What's the problem?"

"Do you...do you think its possible to regret being born?" Your eyes narrow in concern.

"Jared, what is this about?"

"Father...I'm in love. But I'm not allowed to love this person." Ah, so that's what this is about. You feel yourself relax a bit as your fears that your son from a previous lifetime was not contemplating suicide.

"And why aren't you allowed to love this person?"

"Well she's agnostic - it doesn't bother me at all - but my biological parents in this lifetime wants her to convert. But I don't want to force her into something she doesn't believe in. But my parents who has control over plenty of things in my life says its my duty to do so. Honestly father, I think they are making my life harder for rejecting the girl they wanted me to marry." He takes a breath before continuing on his rant about his love dilemma. You acquire some of the details, but that was just to supplement in making the situation clearer.

"I know its all arbitrary. I know it's all just a societal fiction and that it's not perfect-but I can't help but feel like I'm being forced to choose between the person I love and my duty as an Indian son born into a conservative family...father, I know you can't directly help me in my dilemma. And I know ultimately it is I who must make the decision. But was there ever a time you were also forced to make this type of decision? To choose between duty and love?" You can see the desperation on his face as he awaits what you have to say.

Fortunately for him, you have had experience in this.

Unfortunately, your internet connection began wavering.

But you have a solution that could possibly do more.

"I'll show you my memories. My internet is wavering right now so we will need to go there anyway. Close your eyes and relax then reach into the bond we share as parent and child. I shall see you there." He nods before turning off his end of the call. You go to your sofa and lie down on it, closing your eyes and relaxing yourself you find the bond you share with Jared among the part of your mind that contained the bonds you share with all your other children. In your mind's eye, those that are colored are children from previous lifetimes that are still alive. But as of now the bonds are either gray which means they have died; or some of the grey bonds have a colored glow to them. These are the ones that have been reincarnated, and Jared's bond is grey with a glowing color that is in between yellow and orange. Or at least that's the closest description you can come up with.

You reach out and mentally touch the bond and it brings you into a sprawling garden. Jared was in the center seated on the ground with his back hunched forward.

"Stand up Jared, its time I showed you some of my memories." You wave a hand changing the environment into a starry night in a beach.

"Are you going to show me how you fell in love with Morpheus?" You chuckle with a bittersweet tone.

"I know its hard to believe, but I've had other loves before I realized my feelings for Morpheus. What I'm about to show you is probably one of my if not the first actual romance I've had in the early days of humanity." You see your past form, a clearly female warrior bringing her weapons to a hidden cave in the beach.

"I was the leader of my tribe's warriors. Everyone was counting on me for plenty of things, but most of all they were counting on me to give them a victory of any kind." You see your past self peek in to see if there was a fire, fortunately there was. It means he was inside.

"The man I fell in love with was in the same position as mine. His name was Orkis, and after having fought enough times on the battlefield and almost always ending in a stalemate, we decided to approach an alternative tactic to resolving the conflict between both of our tribes." Beside the fire that warmed the cave was an attractive man with lean muscle encased in a broad frame. His black hair was straight and went past his shoulders and ended in the middle of his upper arm. His eyes didn't part from the flames, but the moment your past self's steps were heard, the tension from his body was released.

"You're late." His baritone voice said. Loud enough for you to hear, but soft enough that it was only you who could hear.

"I can't just leave the festivities too early. Everyone will suspect I am up to something."

"Tsch, you are up to something. Secretly meeting with the leader of your rival tribe."

"Oh come on, is that all I am to you?" Your past self goes closer to Orkis, laying down her weapons as a sign of goodwill. Once she was close enough, he grabbed her waist and placed you on his lap and looks into her eyes.

"Hildiko, please don't ask me that ever again. If I could marry you right now, I would. If I could lay you down here and ravish you till you are pregnant with my child, I would..." A look of understanding was shared between them.

She sighs.

"...but we can't. We may have plans but they are still so fragile." She presses her forehead against his. You remember how hurt you were, you hate remembering how painful this is...

But Jared needs to know this lesson.

"What if we eloped? Started our own tribe?"

"You don't mean that. You love your brother. You're one of the few people he trusts. And even though he is my rival leader, I respect him enough not to steal his commander and sister away from him." She buries herself in his embrace, upset but understanding that he has seen through her. You take a glance at Jared who has a confused look on his face.

"The context is that my brother is technically the chief of our tribe."

"Technically?"

"His legs were amputated to prevent an infection of gangrene from his last raid. Because of that injury he gave the martial side over to me, his then second in command while he ruled over none martial matters in the tribe. Politically this also solved any dispute or issue since the power is still kept within our family." You both turn back to the scene unfolding before you.

"Do you think it's going to be our last night together?"

"If not tonight then one of these nights. Neither your brother or my best friend is willing to change their minds. No matter how much we've used our influence on them." She sighs as she straightens her back against his chest. He rests his head at the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"You know what pains me?"

"What?"

"I actually understand where both of them are coming from. And if our places had been switched, I may even probably make similar choices."

"Its why you haven't left your place by your brother's side." You feel yourself tear up as you watch your past self struggle to keep her despair within herself.

"Sometimes I ask myself why does it have to be this way? Why do we need to fight each other? Why do we need to die to protect our way of life?" She begins to shed tears as she turns to look at the man she has fallen in love with.

"And then...both you and my inner voice remind me why...we're simply doing what we believe is right. None of us wants to be treated as less than what we are. And both our people are too stubborn to give any of that up." Orkis smiles sadly at her.

"We're too selfless to serve anything lesser than the greater good." He places her back into his chest.

"Even if it means that we will have to endure this heartbreak."

"Father I don't understand. Why couldn't the two of you have just gotten married and united everyone into one tribe?"

"It's not that simple. My tribe sees women as equals and it is the reason why I am even considered a martial leader. The tribe of Orkis is patriarchal and to add to that, they have a history of enslaving and sacrificing survivors of defeated rival tribes. Even if I were to marry Orkis as a political move, it wouldn't be seen as an equal partnership. It would be seen as willing surrender and subjugation even though that is not the case. The quality of life of my tribe would still decline since people from his tribe may use me. That's not everything of course since I've forgotten many of it by now. But the point is that even a marriage still wouldn't solve anything."

"So what happened?" With a wave of your hand, the scene shifts to a battlefield. Among the many dead bodies was your past self lying on top of Orkis.

You wish you could turn your eyes, but you for Jared's sake you need to watch this alongside him.

Your past self reluctantly positions a dagger above your beloved's heart. His hand guiding yours.

"Hildiko...come on...you can do it." She begins to cry; this was going to be the last time.

"Beloved, you need to do it. You have defeated my forces...this is the only thing left to do before you can claim victory over us-"

"Can't I say a few words first?" He gives a small nod. The end was near for him, and he of all people knows that her confidence is a special thing to have earned.

"Someone once told me that when desires are left unchecked they lead to despair. And yet when I sacrifice my own desires for desires that I know serves the greater good, I still encounter despair anyway." She caresses his face, savoring the last few moments he will be alive.

"I knew that the moment I realized I loved you more than I should. And yet you've always somehow inspired me to keep doing the right thing, even if we both knew it might lead to this."

"There are some things that are more important than a forbidden love like ours."

"...I know." She takes a breath before looking back at his eyes.

"Hildiko, why are you delaying the inevitable?"

"Just give me a few more moments." You hear some warriors that are coming your way. They still have some distance to run or walk but they will be here soon.

"Thank you, Orkis." You see her give him one last kiss on the lips before she stabs the dagger into his heart.

You remembered how clean the cut was.

He wasn't in pain for long. You made sure of that.

"What are you trying to tell me? That I should obey my parents?" The environment returns to the garden that you've seen when you first entered.

"That is something for you to decide. I made my choices based on what I thought was right at that time. And a part of me regrets not doing more to seduce him into having a child with me. But Jared, I would like to point out something." He turns to look at you.

"The circumstances when I made that decision is entirely different from yours. Back then, the freedom of my tribe was at stake, among other things. But you don't have to endure that burden...even if you may feel like you do. Take some time away from both your parents and the person you love. Perhaps that may enlighten you."

"I'm still confused father, aren't there lifetimes wherein you definitely chose love over duty? I recall you saying that there were lifetimes wherein you had both a wife and a husband."

"Yes I did. My love is for all whom I give it to. And looking at it now after revisiting the first love that got away...some of those lifetimes wherein I chose the alternative-especially if I had no burden on my shoulders-was me trying to not make the same choice again when it wasn't necessary."

You both hear someone vaguely call out to him.

"It seems that is all the advice I could give you now. Either way, I hope you end up happy my son."

"...Thank you, Father" The two of you embrace before you gently guide his consciousness out of the bond. Once his consciousness was on its way to physically waking, you make your own exit from the bond.

You awaken and a glance to your window shows that the rain is starting to end since now it's more of a shower. And yet somehow you showing your son those early distant memories left you feeling more emotional than before.

Then a presence enters the room.

"How may I be of service Despair?" You didn't need to glance towards her to know she was delighted by your current mental and emotional state.

"Why, I am just here to be of service to you. After all you are the one who still has some regrets about Orkis." Oh please. as if that wasn't the most blatant half-truth that you've ever heard.

"As if you aren't planning something with Desire and probably using me. I may not know how-" You give her a sharp disapproving look.

"-but its not going to end well for me or for others."

"Now hold on Life." She replies louder than usual. It's been awhile since anyone has called you by that name.

"Your emotions were the one who called to me. I don't need to be here to reap its rewards."

"And yet you are here anyway." She grins at you. By its own nature it makes you uncomfortable.

"There's something blocking those cries of despair within you."

"I placed that block there, even I couldn't go on living if I just remained in the misery of what could have been instead of actually being present in the moment."

"Then maybe while you're free today, maybe you could remove that mental block of yours and finally let out those cries of yours." She didn't bother to hide her excitement at even just the concept of you actually doing that.

"Something's up. And you and Desire want me to go insane with any outward expression of what I thought about my time with Orkis."

"Well what do you have to lose? And is it really so hard to imagine that Desire and I are also doing this so you could be happier?"

"YES! It's very hard for me to imagine that right now. If this was in one of my earlier lifetimes then maybe I could give you two the benefit of the doubt. But even that has it's limit."

"Oh stop denying yourself Life. Inside you know you need to experience such heartbreak. Especially since you are responsible for the death of Jessamy."

Wait

What?

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you didn't know" Her grin widens as she sees the shock to your face.

"Jessamy died trying to break the glass cage which imprisoned Dream. The moment you started losing consciousness, she went to work trying to break it from the side - right on front of him might I add - and she was shot from behind by Alex Burgess."

"No, No, this can't be - you're lying! You must be lying!" Despair begins laughing and it made you more uneasy.

"I'm just the one who delivered the message to you in this lifetime. If you don't want to believe me then ask Death." You feel a pain in your chest as you feel tears begin to shed once again.

The bullet you felt from the back.

That wasn't for you.

You were already dying.

It was because of your bond with Jessamy that you felt her final moments and together you died.

"Yes...that's it Life...release your despair for Jessamy." You feel her go nearer to you as you feel yourself become even more miserable.

Would she have still been alive if you had waited for more time?

Would she hate you for not being able to protect her?

"You fell in love with Orkis because both of you were too selfless to achieve your own desires. Both of you would do what you thought was right. And what happened now hmm?" Some memories from your past lives quickly flash through your mind.

Times when you chose to become hedonistic and as a result, those who were close to you hated you or became envious of you.

Times when you chose to become selfish and the world ended up bringing you into despair anyway.

Despair, it lead there one way or the other.

It was unavoidable.

And you feel yourself crying out more and more.

"That's it Life... Those doubts that you have in your head... Those endless possibilities of what you could have done something differently...All those regrets...Let it feed your despair" You feel her satisfied with what she has made you do.

"You and other beings despair over the desires you can't have. Why not release the mental block in your mind? Release it while you are open to your emotions now."

"What...good...will that do me?" You ask in between sobs.

"Because once you have fueled me with the despair you have within you, for the choices you've made so far... you could finally feed your own selfish desires."

And then you woke up from your own self-pity.

So that's why they want you to remove your mental block.

Without the mental block you have placed on some memories and things about yourself, life would be more chaotic than it already was. Allowing the main fuels of life onwards to be more primal, more ruthless than it already was.

Despair and Desire would have more power.

But then again, you doubt that they know that there's more to life than that. It's why you fell in love with Orkis, even though your love did not produce a child. If life was only about an endless chain of self-pity and unhindered selfish desires then you lose the beauty and nuance of the bonds formed and shared.

The beauty in the little things like waking up to your favorite meal.

The beauty in achievements finally made after a long journey.

The beauty in the community that offers the social bonds that we crave for.

The beauty to dream of something better for yourself and for the world.

Would these still exist if you removed your mental blocks? Perhaps. But it would also be overshadowed by the paradigm that Desire and Despair have in mind if left unchecked and unbalanced by other things.

You calm yourself down and you notice that Despair was still there. But this time she wasn't as happy as she was earlier.

So, she has noticed that you've connected the dots too.

"I will admit, you've done a good job in almost convincing me to do something I will definitely regret later had I only listened to you." You grab a tissue nearby as you wipe away any remaining tears as you glare at her direction.

"I am well aware of the choices I've made. Do I regret some of them? Perhaps. And some people would choose to wallow in self-pity blinded by their past mistakes, hindering them from what they could have become." You stand up with your back straightened and your eyes narrowed.

It's about time to remind the twins about a few things.

"You have definitely made your points. And they are true, but not entirely. You and Desire seem to have forgotten that beings have the ability to choose not to pursuit life simply based on despair and desire." You feel yourself smirking as you see unease creep into her face.

"If the two of you were the only things that life is about - or that life should be about - then I wouldn't be this complicated in the first place. Yes, you two are near inevitable parts of life, but you are not the only ones that matter. Any being with the capacity to dream has the agency to choose what stories to tell themselves and how they should act upon it." You walk towards her, this time you feel your own rage and power fuels each step you make. And her body makes it way backwards in response.

"This, Despair dear, is why Dream is your older sibling. Born from the first subconscious thoughts I've made. And formed stories based on the stories I formed in the waking world as I lived my life. Which stories I chose to tell myself and which ones I continue believe in also resulted in yours and Desire's births. You two are only parts making up a whole of what beings experience in their lifetimes. Including your own. Take some time to remind this to Desire as you tell them of your failed attempt at convincing me to tear down all of my mental walls." You see her prepare to leave. If you were being honest with yourself you could have forced her out of there.

But a part of you wanted some sort of petty revenge for what she and Desire had almost made you do. You were still pissed off.

"Those mental blocks are there not simply because I don't want to visit those memories. As you've seen, I could visit them anytime, and have just done so with my son. Those boundaries are there to allow me to actually live. If all I did was contemplate about what could have been, then I couldn't actually live out what's happening in the moment. And if that were the case, then I wouldn't be fulfilling my duties. Without them I may have just simply become paralyzed and insane at replaying the same story over and over again...much like how you are stuck in the same story of your jealousy for me." To your satisfaction she reacts with unease even though she tried to control it on front of you.

"I'm-I'm not stuck. You're making things up now to escape your feelings."

"Oh I am very well aware of my feelings. I am empowered by the conscious mind remember? That includes yours, and your hidden jealousy at how in your flattering opinion, I am one of the few beings that actually looks good in the Crocs classic clog and your own insecurity at not being able to measure up to me. It's all about balancing your outfit Despair dear. Ah yes, balance, a concept that you and your twin seem to not fully understand." She abruptly leads. Pride severely wounded as she was fed with some little despair of her own.

That'll teach them for awhile.

It's time to do some actual work for awhile. Especially when you're trying to take a break from matters concerning Endless beings. Later just after you finish your dinner you receive a message from Nadia.

Nadia: A recurring dream may point to a memory. And it is common for victims to show signs of trauma. You say that this is a recent dream? Perhaps, it could be something unresolved deep within your subconscious. Trying to tell you to confront the source of your trauma (either recent or past trauma). The fact that this time you were able to make out details of your perpetrator may indicate that your subconscious is showing you that you know the source of your trauma that has lay untreated. That's so far what I could pick up from what you've told me.

Unresolved trauma. That seems to be the running theme for today.

You grab a candle from your stash. You aren't certain if what Despair told you was the entire truth about Jessamy, you were certain that your fears were confirmed.

It wasn't that Jessamy was never going to die. All things have an eventual end. It was that she died while trusting you to help her free Morpheus.

She had died in vain.

And you're not sure if Morpheus...if he would even speak to you again for your failure. A part of you hopes that at the very least he would tell you to never speak to him again. His anger would be easier over and dealt with so you wouldn't have to spend the rest of your relatively immortal life wondering.

A part of you is hoping to at least have the chance to apologize. He has every right to hate you, but you at least want to state your side.

With the candle lighted on your normally cluttered desk. You bow your head as you say a brief mental prayer for Jessamy. To whom, you're not sure anymore. Maybe to any God or being who governs over the souls of ravens. She deserved eternal rest. Her reward for dying doing what she believed to be right.

And before you knew it, you found yourself crying. This time in grief for Jessamy whom you knew was gone.

Grief which lead to the first time in awhile to a dreamless sleep.

It wasn't long before Death finally made a social visit to you. You thought the doorbell was your online order delivering the latest BYS eye cosmetics to your doorstep. You were rushing to get the cash you had prepared for this moment only to see a familiar face amused by your rush towards the door.

"I'm sorry I'm not your latest Shopee Mall order, but if its any compensation; I now understand why Despair was so jealous of your fashion sense in this lifetime."

"Oh come on in Death, there's a reason why the living room exists." You roll your eyes but you also couldn't hide the smile sneaking in your expression.

"Out of curiosity, was that a new acquisition that you've worn out by your almost endless walking in your apartment?" Her eyes were directed at the pair of baby blue crocs clogs on your feet.

"No. My father bought these back in around 2006 or 2007 when he was on a business trip to Singapore. Before leaving my mom drew an outline of my feet and cut it out for him to bring. And regardless of what everyone else thinks I refuse to stop wearing them. They still fit me and they still work. Not everyone may like how they look, but I'm one of the few who genuinely love them."

"As you are with all things you consider priceless valuables." She settles in the couch wherein you finally notice what type of bracelets she was wearing.

"You're copying me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I let the Lapis Lazuli bracelets go because they were in vogue during the Eastern Roman Empire and I was male back then so I had to live vicariously through you. But those-" you point to the two bracelets on her wrist.

"Are deliberate choices that I first showed off to you." You show off the bracelets you were wearing on your left wrist.

"Hmm and how do you know it's not just mere coincidence?" She raises an eyebrow, daring you to respond.

Oh come on. You weren't born yesterday.

"Because I can't think of why you would choose to wear bracelets that are made of Kunzite and Topaz beads other than me wearing them to show my love for Kunzite and Sailor Venus as a couple." A moment of silence followed before she resigned and leaned back at her seat.

"Okay, okay, you caught me. It's also to show my solidarity with you."

"There's more to it than that isn't there? Not to be judgmental but those two brightly colored bracelets aren't going well together with the rest of your casual goth outfit." Her expression slowly becomes a little more serious. It was still a pleasant one, but you could sense there was some news that may affect you.

"Are you sure you're okay? Revisiting those old memories with your first memorable romance must have brought up some feelings."

"Not you too"

"I'm just checking in. Orkis was one of your first memorable loves. And I can say he has had quite an impact on you till now whether you want to admit it or not."

"Death...doesn't all love, whether it's romantic or otherwise, impact a being one way or the other? You've said it yourself, just because they are gone, doesn't mean I've stopped loving them. Orkis wasn't the only love of mine who was 'the one who got away' but the time we did share was still important. And over time that value has grown." Her expression is that of contemplative understanding.

"Is this why you love the relationship between Kunzite and Venus?"

"Yes, and before you say anything I know I'm predictable." She raised her hands in surrender. As if saying she wasn't trying to say anything, but her eyes say otherwise.

"Both of them were in the same position of being leaders of their respective groups to guard the Prince Endymion of the Earth and Princess Serenity of the Moon. Both of them are serious about their duties. They share an understanding that if things were to go wrong, they would pick the sides of their lieges without any question...this may not all be canon. I know that Naoko Takeuchi wasn't given the time to truly explore their relationship. And the crumbs that we've been shown in Code name: Sailor V are simply prompts to fuel headcanons...but there is something familiar in the way that her story ends before meeting with the rest of the Inner Senshi." You take a sip of water and a deep breath before continuing.

"Throughout Code name: Sailor V Aino Minako had conflicting feelings about being an ordinary girl who dreams of one day being a pop idol and her call towards serving Princess Serenity. And all this time, Phantom Ace had played with her feelings-probably because he too was conflicted-and as luna-whiskers have said on a tumblr post; it was when she began to actually act like Sailor Venus in her past life that he simultaneously fell in love with her and experienced heartbreak." Your back straightens as you meet Death's eyes. Now is not the time for any doubts or ambiguities when it came to your feelings on this matter.

"That is how I feel about Orkis; the values that he had which made me fall in love with him is also what caused me heartbreak...and to become better than I was before. Unlike Phantom Ace I'm not bitter about it. I'm thankful that I had that love no matter how short it was. It's what reminds me that there are more important things than just selfish desire and despair. And while I may not be cursed to always choose duty over love - my own history could tell you otherwise of my selfish acts - sometimes I feel that the freedom of all life to make their own mistakes and achievements...is worth more than the post-coital bliss of a tryst or a romantic moment in a fair midday weather."

"And yet you have also experienced why sometimes people choose to be selfish."

"I never said I was immune to selfishness. My daughter Melike whom you've helped me give birth to was a product of such selfishness."

"My point is that out of all the anthropomorphic beings, you out of all of us have more insight and nuanced about these things. It is the nature of your function; to live life. And you've said it before, it is all about balance."

"I know, the extreme of one has dire consequences. And that's not even considering that life and the entire world is more nuanced than the mortal mind could comprehend...That's why I still fondly love Orkis. I hope he at least gets his rest after what we've had to endure in that lifetime. Had it not been for him, I think I would have been more susceptible to the whims of Desire and Despair."

"How about to the whims of Dream?" She has a knowing look that you do all that you can to resist from showing your annoyance.

"Morpheus is a storyteller. He governs the subconscious. I'd like to believe that if he was free from his imprisonment, his whims would affect my life and the lives of others the way he has always done. I don't think any change would come from that." You take another drink of your water.

And like many friends, that's when she tells you the news.

"He's free now."

You spit out the water that was in your mouth.

"What?"

"Ugh hand me a tissue please."

"That's what you get for your timing."

"I was curious if it would work on you. And I tried to dodge it."

"Serves you right." You place a box of tissue at the center of your table as you both wipe off the remnants of your reaction.

"How?"

"He broke himself free."

"Someone fell asleep in his presence?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself and summon him when you sleep?"

"No" You shake your head fervently.

"After my failure in my last lifetime, I highly doubt he wants to see me again."

"Huh, why? Because you weren't able to rescue him?"

"Jessamy died because of me." It comes out a little more harshly than you intended. But Death at least doesn't take notice and her expression becomes a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"That wasn't your fault. And if you want to be really technical about it, she died because of him and Alex Burgess too."

"She was a dear friend of his and I failed to protect her. Why would he even talk to me in the first place?"

"Okay that's it." She stands up and walks on front of you.

"First off, you were his friend too, much longer before Jessamy even existed; Secondly, Jessamy would've attempted to help him and would've been a lot more reckless with it had she done so alone; and Finally, you, Life, were there. I may not know how he personally feels, but knowing him there is no way he would hold you in contempt."

"And if he does and it turns out he never wants to see me again unless its for professional concerns?"

"Agh-look if you want to know and settle this so you can finally move on, then summon him in your dreams."

"The last time we've talked in my dreams my feelings were hurt."

"That was plenty of lifetimes ago. And trust me, from what I've seen before he made his long overdue meeting with Hob Gadling, he has started to change. And from what I remember he left you alone upon your request the last time you two met in your dreams."

"Still-I don't feel ready for that yet." She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

"He's not going to come unless you call him."

"Thank you, Death. But I'm not ready yet. Not now at least." At that moment, you both hear the doorbell ring. Your delivery has finally arrived.

"Look, the important thing is that he is starting to change. He has asked me how I cope and connect with humanity. He has been studying me intently as I do my work. He's starting to make a serious effort with it now." You turn back to her as you go back inside with a package in your hands.

"I need some time to process what I've learnt today." You see her sigh. Clearly this wasn't the result she wanted.

"Food for your thoughts before I leave. Maybe you thought you've found your Kunzite and have resigned to a fate like Sailor Venus. But maybe the answer was to be with someone who doesn't make you choose between your duty and love. Like what you've said to Despair, it's all about balance."

And she left.

So he was out.

Your emotions were mixed and sometimes conflicting. On one hand you were relieved that he finally was free and that you don't have to worry about him anymore. On the other hand, now that he was free and given the last time you were with him was when you died you feel reluctant in even contacting him. On one hand maybe he can give you insight on the recurring memory giving you nightmares. But on the other hand why would he bother helping you when you failed to help him?

These were the thoughts that dwelled in your mind as you took your time reflecting and healing. You've lately had semi-trouble getting to sleep which involved you searching up youtubers with calming voices and that had videos that were at least 20 minutes long to get you to become drowsy. Sleep podcast was really good. Sometimes you would put on one of illuminaughtii's videos since if you were drowsy her voice was really good in drowning out all other noise while not being too distracting. Asmr videos gave you a special kind of tingle that was too distracting for actual deep sleep.

As you drifted to sleep and allowed your subconscious to take over. Sometimes some words would linger that you vaguely remember.

Deep

Sacrifice

Shown

Moved

Change

Given how you tended to have a wild imagination anyways, a part of you wondered if it was just some remnants from your "Drift to sleep" videos that your brain just so happened to latch on to. You didn't think much of it. The human brain eagerly searches for patterns it could find in nature. It's what it was designed to do.

Even though sometimes words were simply what they are. No hidden message from the universe. Some words were more memorable to your brain and these just so happen to be some of them.

It wasn't until much later when after a family dinner and your parents brought you back to your solitary apartment that you've found an unexpected visitor sitting on your couch.

"Morpheus" He makes a move to stand.

"I'm here"

"...Yes you are." You place your handbag on a nearby wall hanger before turning back to him.

"I haven't called you."

"I've decided to come to you. You've said we have some things to discuss once I'm free of my imprisonment. And based on recent events a part of me thinks that you if I had just kept waiting for your call, you might either never use it or you may someday forget to."

"What made you think that?" He moves closer to you. Each step held a confidence that felt familiar and yet new to you.

"Because unlike Calliope, you aren't imprisoned. You could end this lifetime not even talking to me. Which is something that I could no longer bear."

"Then why here? In the waking world where my domain is, why come here? You could have easily just came into my dreams wherein I wouldn't have the power to stop you." He now stands before you. Close enough that you can feel some semblance of his breath, but far enough that you can feel your personal space is still present.

"So that you wouldn't think its just me playing with your mind. Or that its your own mind tricking you into imagining what I want to tell you." You nod. That's all you could do. One of the disadvantages of being in the waking world is that you couldn't just simply wake up and escape from it.

But if you were going to have this conversation you might as well get it over with.

Just like the last time you've talked face-to-face, you sit across each other with a coffee table in between the two of you. But this time no food or beverages were present. It was in the midst of night in the waking world, and somewhere either nearing to or just past midnight.

"I'm sorry" The two of you say at the same time. And from his expression, he was just as startled as you are.

"Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for."

"It's because of me that Jessamy died. And if you never want to speak to me again-"

"How could you think that? Have you not recalled all of your memories? It's not your fault that she died no matter how painful it is for the both of us."

"But we failed you - I failed you - you trusted me with her and yet she and I died at the same time. And we didn't even manage to set you free." He becomes increasingly astonished. You refuse to delude yourself into thinking that had it been a lighter subject perhaps he would have smiled. A small smile, but nevertheless a smile.

"You didn't fail me or Jessamy. Had you refused to help her she might have been more reckless than she would have been. And she might have been dead sooner than either of us would have liked."

"Still, being imprisoned for an entire century could not have been easy on you." He closed his eyes as if to restrain the painful memories associated with his experiences.

"It was torture."

"Which is why I'm surprised why you aren't angry at me. Maybe I should have just sneaked in and died sleeping within your presence."

"How-How could you undervalue yourself so?" His look shook his head and looked at you incredulously.

"Out of everyone who could have came to my aid, it was only you and Jessamy who did so. You were one of the last ones I would have thought who would, since our last meeting before then was..."

"I know...I was really upset with you."

"Which is why indirectly I've seen how you have truly done your best to not only free me, but to also keep Jessamy safe." You take a breath as you momentarily close your eyes.

"That doesn't change the fact that she would have been alive if I was the only one who -"

"Don't" His tone was semi-commanding. Not enough to be a direct order, but nevertheless there was authority in his voice.

"That was the one plan that I least favored. I never wanted to see you die, even though I knew it was part of your functions and that it was necessary for life to continue. It was painful the first time I saw you die not long after you've lost Orkis, and I knew I didn't want to see you go through with it again. Even if it was for my sake."

"Is that why both you and Death were there?"

"As you began to enter into the dreaming, you were stuck and began to flicker in and out. I decided to go to the waking world to see what might have been the cause. And in your sleep, assassins were killing you, and Death was simply waiting for you." Your eyes widen at this new information.

"I couldn't bear to see you suffer for long, at that point I thought the nightmares I've created were sufficient to frighten even the most stoic of mortals. But to see you being stabbed while gagged and blindfolded was just so painful for me; and so I asked my sister if I could give you a peaceful sleep since you were already in the dreaming." Realization dawns on you.

"And she allowed it."

"She did."

"Is this why she escorted me from the dreaming?"

"Yes, and I knew at that point that I couldn't see you die on front of me. Not again."

A moment of silence hangs in the air.

"Then when the Corinthian killed me..."

"It was worse. Unlike the first time I could feel your pain this time. And..." He momentarily bows his head.

"It was my own creation that killed you."

"Morpheus" Oh no, you knew where this was going. He didn't need to say it.

"You're not responsible for how your creations think. If that were the case then I wouldn't have had any arguments with my own children every now and then." From what you can see, the corner of his lips instinctively moved up.

"Lucienne told me something similar recently. When we were dealing with the Vortex." You feel anxiety rising in your heart.

"There's a vortex?"

"Don't worry, both it and the Corinthian has been dealt with." He tells you in a comforting tone.

"How come I wasn't pulled towards it?"

"You very rarely get involved when there is a vortex. It is mainly the Endless who do get involved most of the time."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to help. Especially since it potentially involves the eradication of all current life in this world and universe."

"It was not your battle to fight. The fates or whomever is responsible for assigning you your circumstances had deliberately placed you in a location that is far away from the conflict." No matter how comforting his tone was it still feels like you were left out of a problem that you may have helped in.

"Where did this happen exactly?"

"Florida, USA"

"Oh...you may be right. We're 12 hours ahead more or less." Briefly you recall something that he had just said.

"You say that the Corinthian has been dealt with? How?"

"He was manipulating the powers of the vortex for his own personal means. He inspired an entire generation of serial killers who sought joy in killing people." Blood drains from your face and a part of you feels that you are getting pale.

"Oh my."

"But I managed to reabsorb him. I hope to improve his creation the next time I find time to work on him." You feel yourself sigh in relief. At least that was dealt with. The air around you both had become so dour that you decide to lighten the mood a little.

"Is it strange that I feel upset that I wasn't allowed to punch him in the balls before then?" You see him make a small smile as his eyes gaze back at yours. But then his expression turns back to remorse.

"I am sorry for hurting you. Especially during our last conversation in your dreams." He stands up and slowly goes to your side.

"You've said that last time that unless I have an answer for you about why I didn't ask you first before going to Hob to learn about humanity...I should leave you alone." You feel your heart breaking and your eyes couldn't help but start to water a little bit.

"Morpheus that was in the past. I don't hate you anymore."

"Life...please allow me to make amends." This was the first time in a long time since he called you that. He normally sticks to calling whatever birth name you were given with the understanding that it's just you in a different form.

"I won't excuse myself for what I have done. You're right, I have no good reason not to talk to you when among all the beings personified, you out of everyone is the most tied with humanity. The rest of us Endless only have glimpses of what it could be like to be a part of humanity. But you actually live with them, know the nuances that I have just learned that I was ignorant of. While they are indeed mortal, they have their own wisdom which I am now trying to learn." He pauses briefly to gather his thoughts.

"And you were right, Hob is only one perspective...Will you help me learn more?"

Ba dum

This was unexpected. Never in eons have you thought he would ask this kind of request from you.

"Morpheus, I must warn you that even I don't know everything there is to life. My past lifetimes...sometimes they are books in a mental library that I have."

"That's more than fine. I want to know more."

"Listen, I don't know what you've experienced so far. But based on what you're doing, you have gained so much insight from your experience. Which is why if you want to know more, you will need to visit the waking world much more often. And if you need some clarification, I could tell you what I think." He nods but you can tell from the rest of his body that it wasn't the arrangement he was hoping for.

"I'm not asking you to neglect your duties in the dreaming, but I think frequent visits to the waking world every now and then would be instrumental to your education. And no, books cannot be a sufficient replacement for experience. They are a great supplement, yes, but they shouldn't be treated as a replacement for actual experience when possible."

"You expect me to just randomly observe humans in the waking world when I have just asked that you guide me?"

"Well unlike the other relatively immortal beings, I have a mortal life to live and law school to study for and graduate from. I'm not always available to your whims." He raises an eyebrow at you. Not in disbelief, but more of a reaction.

"And what if a large part of those visits would be visits to you? When you are free of course." Hmm that could work.

However

"If that's the case then we'll need to make up a story for you and how we came to know each other. Also no offense but your current appearance is going to make you stand out as some Caucasian foreigner here. I may not mind it, but you may want to adapt a form that would blend in well with everyone else. Maybe someone who is mestizo? That's mixed blood by the way. I'm considered a Chinese Mestiza because of my mother's side-"

"Easily solved, but to you I shall appear as I am." You nod and you briefly glance at the window and notice the sky slowly lightening up. Well it's a good thing that it was a national holiday and there was no classes for you to attend to.

"You say that I'm not a failure. How am I not?" This was the first time you've seen him give you a genuine smile.

"Where do I begin? You have kept me company during my confinement. I missed hearing you after your death. I missed listening to you think of ideas on how to help me escape. I missed you getting worried for both me and Jessamy but for some reason you've always placed yourself last. I even missed hearing about your thoughts outside of rescuing me. Such as how the bastardized Indian restaurant near the Inn was only a success because nobody has had genuine Indian cuisine. When you were gone, it was then that I realized how alone I was. It was your presence and your random observations that made being imprisoned much more bearable than I realized. Even when Roderick Burgess died soon after your final moments, somehow I suffered more having felt both you and Jessamy die." The room starts to light up as the sun slowly rises and the yellow hues begin entering from the windows.

"If you are looking for a more tactical answer, then you also provided me with valuable information that was instrumental to my escape and provided me a glimmer of hope for the rest of my imprisonment."

"And what was that?"

"The magical barriers in the minds of the occultist members. You've correctly deduced that this is what is protecting their subconscious from me, thus preventing me from entering the Dreaming even if they were to be asleep in my presence. One of the occultists have accidentally done so but when I even attempted to do so, it blocked me right away. I had to endure for a long time until they had decided to give me guards that didn't have the magical barriers." You feel your eyes widen an your mouth instinctively opens.

"You waited till the remaining occultists have died out and for ordinary people to be the ones guarding you."

"It also helped that Alex Burgess has accidentally broken the ritual circle containing me with his wheel chair. After that, all I had to do was wait for one of my guards to fall asleep. The moment I felt the subconscious act up, I immediately pulled him in and tricked him into breaking the glass." It was only then that you've noticed that he was a lot closer than you expected him to be. In your periphery, you notice that the room is now filled with natural early morning light.

"I did not expect that piece of information to have been so helpful. It seemed such an annoying obstacle when I was trying to make escape plans." He gives you a tender look. One that you almost don't recognize.

And yet he's here giving it to you now.

"Don't you see how you are the reason for my hope? You helped set me free. You managed to keep Jessamy safe for as long as you can. And when you had no reason to, you chose to help me, even if the only help you had was myself and Jessamy … why would I hate you?"

You didn't have an answer. And looking into his eyes, you want to believe that there may be a chance …

… but you have been burnt before. But this time, maybe instead of killing that hope, you can at least temper it with some realistic expectations.

Before you can reply and before he could add more, your phone vibrates.

You can check that later.

But it is time you've gotten some sleep.

"Thank you, for that insight. I didn't realize that's how you saw me."

"Those are facts." You stand up to stretch and allow movement back into your muscles. As much as you don't want to be rude to Morpheus, you couldn't help but be curious to what kind of message you've received.

A grin creeps into your face with a matching squeal.

Emira: Hey mom, it's me Melike. I'm officially a freshman in our Law School! So far the homework's been okay, but I'm hoping we could meet up. I screwed up my first recitations and I don't know my way around yet. When are you free? Also, I really loved your deep blue blazer.

"Something the matter?" You turn towards him not bothering to hide a smile.

"Not really. Melike, one of my children who has a reincarnation in this lifetime is now officially one of my schoolmates. She's the sultan's daughter that I died giving birth to. Her name in this time is Emira and she's just 2 years younger than me this time around."

"You spoke with her through your bond?"

"Yes, ever since she has started learning magic during puberty we've been talking. By any chance are you free later?"

"Are you sure you want me around?" He asks with a concerned look.

"Think of this as your first learning life experience with me. Meeting new people. If she's free for dinner then I'll sleep first then we'll meet up with her." His expression becomes tender and gentle.

"Very well then."

You then proceed to make arrangements to meet her for dinner. It turns out she was staying up all night too doing the last of her binging while she still can and was going to take a rest during the morning.

"Allow me to help you sleep. You've been having problems going to sleep lately."

"Thank you Morpheus, but I'd rather not be dependent on the sand. But I could think of another way you could help?" After taking a moment to change into your sleepwear and settling in your bed, Morpheus turns back towards you after you permit him so.

"Then how may I be of service?"

"Simple." You lie down and start to settle yourself in.

"Tell me a boring story. Or anything really, just make sure I actually lose consciousness."

"Hmm, very well."

You don't know if he told you a story or was just saying random words and phrases, but being the King of Dreams he made sure that you now had a good rest.

Author's Notes: Hey everyone so I hope the ending here makes up for Part 2's traumatic ending. Some notes from me:

1.) Orkis is a name I made up. It's a pun on "Or Kiss" because for a long time I thought the meme "Now Kiss" was actually "Or Kiss". Hildiko is just Ildiko Breckl from Witcher lore with an H to make it not obvious 😅;

2.) Yes I essentially wrote down why I ship Kunzite and Sailor Venus and somehow weaved it into the story. If you do happen to have some time, read Codename: Sailor V it's a prequel to the Sailor Moon manga, and honestly its one of the best spin-off stories from Naoko Takeuchi. Tumblr user luna-whiskers does an excellent analysis on Phantom Ace's role in the development of Sailor Venus, leader of the Sailor Senshi;

3.) I added Orkis as a first love because I don't want to give readers the delusion that "It has always been Morpheus". Much like how Morpheus has had other loves such as Nada and Calliope, Life also has had other very influential loves;

4.) Yes, I essentially placed Life in an idealized form of what I actually look like (see tumblr avatar for reference);

5.) Yes I also placed my biased love for Crocs and BYS cosmetics;

6.) Jared is the name he has when Life was his parent. Like his sister Emira, he goes by a different name currently. But because of the distance and he'll probably more of a cyber presence, its not relevant to know his current name;

7.) The pronunciation for Melike is Meh-lee-keh (According to the Turkish one at least). In Turkish it means Queen and Emira means Princess.

Hope you all enjoyed it :D

#Beautiful Anomaly #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus x y/n #Morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus x you #dream x y/n #dream x you #Dream x reader #dream x fem!reader

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lemonflowercat · 28 days

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75 soft but real soft hehe

it's been weeks since my last 75 soft, and since then i've had multiple menty-meltdowns, intense therapy hours and zombie-days where i've played game after game of 2048 (i'm a pro at it now, btw). i've had days that ended with the peaceful self-satisfaction of getting shit done, i've had days of going to bed with a sense of failure ringing deep in my bones. i've had days of eating so healthy, being fully aware of my hunger-fullness cues and honoring them, i've had days of munchie after munchie - rummaging through the snack cupboard at the end of every episode of a mindless Netflix TV show.

75 soft/hard have been touted as mental toughness challenges to imbue rigor and discipline and structure and perseverance - and the only measure of success? seeing every one of those 75 days through to the end. i understand that this may have changed many lives out there for the better, and i also understand the importance of the values the 75 soft/hard is based on.

but i also think that, just like all things in the world, there's more than one lesson an experience can teach me - and often it may not be what i hoped to get out of it. but it always will be something i needed.

my 5 failed attempts at 75 soft have taught me

the importance of kind self-talk. i think this is the most underrated, not-spoken-of-enough, never-done-enough, harder-than-you'd-except form of self love and self parenting. to talk to myself, not in the worst ways that people around me have spoken to me, but in the kind ways that they have. and in the nice ways that i would show up for people i care about. in a way that doesn't make me feel like a failure before i can even start expanding/growing. in a way that makes me feel loved and safe - because only when these feelings are met am i able to engage with the rest of the world from a place of curiosity, hope and love.

that unmet goals don't equate to failure. it isn't easy to stop listening to all those nagging voices in my head/unchecked boxes on my to-do list constantly reminding me of my inadequacies. but with practice, i can disengage from them emotionally, question their validity, and accept that either way i am enough. it's funny how hard it is for me to tell myself, lemonflowercat, even if you haven't worked out in a week or eaten healthy today or studied for even 30m or drank enough water, you are enough and worthy and loved and beautiful.

that i can draw boundaries. i can voice things i'm not ok with, what i need more of and less of to be able to do what's most important to me. that i don't have to reflexively please - i can be a square peg in a round hole with poky corners taking up space - and if that makes people like me less? it's completely ok, because i still know my worth.

to slow down and pay attention what feels good for me and do what my body/mind want in that moment vs what "i should" "i'm supposed" "i need to" "i have to" do.

to believe in myself more - just me, as myself, with no comparison to anyone else not even the past me. and i say the latter because too often have i caught me comparing myself to a certain way i was in the past when the kind of life and thoughts i had back then are so different from the way things are currently. i know people say that you only try to be better than yourself - but even this feels like an unfair ask, honestly.

that my fluidity - which i have tried so long, so hard to box into rigidity - is my strength.

to trust that everything is going to be ok. and, like i mentioned on another day here - i don't have to carry the burden of the past or the future as i live my now.

#75 soft #mental health

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autistic-shaiapouf · 2 months

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What's your opinion on Meruem x Pouf? :3

I saw this ask come in yesterday but wanted to wait until I had enough time to give it my full attention 👀

The short answer is that I support it with a resounding yes courtesy of the illustrious @ravenfeet222 👀✌️💖

The long answer is gonna give me a lot of space to talk about pouf which is why I wanted to wait to answer this 😭 Gonna live up to the url for just a moment 👀

ALRIGHT SO, let's talk about pouf for just a second. I truly do feel that a LOT of people missed the major points of pouf's character just because his arc had a lot of negative growth, plus the more flamboyant aspects of his character also seem to have made some people write him off U_U I've done a few large scale analysis pieces on him but I'm gonna reiterate a few points for the sake of the discussion at hand, and they're all points about how pouf interacts with and perceives the world around himself.

Pouf is afraid. It's explicitly said in canon multiple times that as the arc progresses, he understands everyone around himself less and less and grows increasingly more afraid of all the change. Pouf is also emotionally disregulated, he shows intense anger, he cries like his heart is breaking, all with little prompting. One thing I clung to was a line that seemed to be treated like a joke - pouf commenting that soldiers had no need for memory or emotions, ironic coming from the most emotional character in the arc, but what I believe it hints is that pouf doesn't view his own emotions as out of line. He thinks he's acting in a perfectly reasonable manner and minimizes his emotional expression to not conflict with his own personal image of being a perfect soldier (on his good days - there's still plenty where he thinks very poorly of himself).

Okay so pouf is afraid and he struggles! Where do we take this? My argument is gonna get a little shaky bc I'm a pouf scholar and haven't studied meruem to the same extent but I'm not gonna let that stop me 👀 In my eyes, meruem's arc progresses in an opposite manner to pouf's - meruem grows more stable and trusting while pouf feels increasingly more suspicious and borderline paranoid of the world around himself; meruem's desires become more grounded while pouf's grow increasingly more frantic and based in fear. They counteract each other in ways that would be conducive to each other's growth, with special regards to meruem acting as an anchor for pouf's fears and general anxiety about the world. Meruem, judging from his earlier-arc interactions, could still get caught up in his mind similar to pouf, but focusing on asking himself what he's meant to be doing, what his purpose is, and pouf would easily draw him out of that. I'd also like to believe that, somewhere in there, pouf learns to be more of an individual, likely with a little help from meruem pushing him towards his interests and helping him grow beyond what pouf initially considers to be his purpose.

I'm not generally someone who cares much for shipping (as someone who's aro and ace, though I do have very contrasting feelings for specific fictional guys lmao) but I can definitely see the dynamic between the two growing into something mutually supportive if both of them were given time to grow (which canon didn't do U_U). Let this also be my way of saying that I have strong opinions on the ants and the caa as a whole and I wish I saw it get discussed in a greater capacity but you can't win them all, I put out what I can and am always glad to be asked about them 😤 Also I just think that pouf deserves to be happy, the man entered a mental health spiral and dropped dead imagining himself as a failure; he's. very personally important to me and to see him get put in a situation where he can start to recover and become healthier means a lot to me, so that's also a bonus ✨️

#that being said - thank you for the ask!! i love talking about ants and i love talking about pouf!!#like i said I'm a little shakier on analysis for mr majesty over there bc. well. i am in fact autistic for pouf hjdfgds #but yeah! i'd consider those to be my baseline thoughts beyond ''the art is cute and my friend makes most of it'' lmaoooo #if you ever wanna talk ants i am absolutely game even though my blog has shifted focus - the pouf theme will pretty much be eternal lmao #i love. ants....#asks #also hi magnolia i tried to scrounge up what i could 😭 i dont say a whole lot about meruem ksjfkf i wouldn't say he's an enigma to me #but i haven't done a personal deep dive into his entire deal l m a o

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indepth-mbti · 1 year

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Self-typing

Hello Laia. I am a person who admires your understanding of Jungian and Enneagram concepts, and I appreciate the fact that you take the time to answer to people's questions. This motivated me to ask you one in the hope of broadening my perspective, because I believe I utterly messed up my understanding of the ennea-types, despite my research and being an Enneagram content creator myself. If you find this inappropriate to show in your Tumblr you can DM me on Instagram (you follow me) but I don't have issues with sharing all of this to the general public. I thank you deeply for your content on IG and for taking the time to answer people's questions.

My issue is that I am identified with traits of both E4 and E6, and I believe that I should clear my wrong ideas on both types. I did not have this struggle with cognitive functions because I could recognize the FiTe and NeSi axes in me easily, but your opinion on the subject would be much appreciated too.

I am still a young person, a teenager who experiences emotional changes in the form of instability and profound identity struggles; both factors that could be mistaken for E4's trait structure. When I adopt the reactive, edgy stance that you can see in my Instagram page, it's because I feel the need to defend myself against the other, assert myself and stop feeling worthless, because from a young age I have felt that nobody took me seriously and that even my parents saw me as immature, childish and abnormal compared to other children. I used to struggle a lot (enormously) with communicating my ideas to others and dealt with intense repressed feelings until the age of 13 or 14, when all the painful inner struggles made me collapse emotionally. My negative beliefs about my own personality led me to develop a negative outlook in life, which could also be confused with E4. I almost can't tell which of my traits were developed starting in my early teen years and which ones were latent, but I do think that new situations and states (in economy, politics and personal development) are always born inside previous ones, which harbor its opposite in their core, as well as the capacity for contradiction.

With respect to identity, I do care about projecting a certain image. I entertain ideas about disturbing, immoral topics in my online posts in a way that has the side effect of "filtering" the people who can't see more sides to reality than a rigid black or white morality and thus could never see life the way I do. More feelings of worthlessness are underlying behind that behavior, and it's kind of embracing the side of me that never wanted to belong, that despised my primary school classmates. Online posting is such a shallow and temporary aspect of me that I mention it just in passing, and I'm not implying that an E4 would even care about appearing a certain way (I'm not implying that they would be oblivious to it either, or that it doesn't depend on subtypes or even wings; I'm asking for your perspective for this exact reason) but I do value my aesthetics a lot. I do know that the image of a four-fixed E6 would be more malleable and adaptable while an E4's would be rigid (with degrees of variability between subtypes) but I don't see myself in the actual definition of the passion of fear and I struggle to understand it a lot, while envy is more familiar to me.

Observations have been made that I have a bitter, sarcastic tone in my jokes (?), and that I'm a likable person (E6). But most of the time I take my life extremely seriously and I'm not an expressive person (at least, I don't want to be, I despise the idea of being that way and I want to remain in control, I hate myself when I feel that I'm not in control), though I do have moments where I get caught up in ranting and strong emotional display. Another thing that would contribute to my possible mistype is my mental instability; I have expressed my personal suicidal desires within the self-deprecating character of the 469 trifix, and also as a way to get attention. But I'm not only the self-harmer archetype, I also harbor the rage of the lunatic individual who wants to murder those who wronged him.

During my childhood I was still imbalanced (screaming, running away from classrooms in primary school and even attempting to hurt others physically) but, as I matured and grew up, it was evident that I was also a calm, soft-hearted individual who shared his books and thoughts with others, and I made friends who appreciated me deeply, including girls with the introverted feeling type. I attended a few birthdays and a sleepover, and later traveled outside of the country as member of a theater group.

I'm (kind of) specific in my interests (I don't know how obscure Claudio Naranjo, 1930's Argentina or the Soviet Union's history are in your perspective, but most people my age don't care about these things) but I don't really gatekeep my thoughts or analyses from others unless they have a strong emotional significance. As a person in general, I'm both attached and frustrated, and attached to being frustrated, with the capacity to embrace both sides of my personality. I'm not sunny (lmao) but I'm not putting myself in the spotlight constantly either.

My thoughts on subtypes: I would like to know more about the way that Naranjo portrayed the so4, because I don't understand the theoretical background behind the layers of complexity of this subtype (as reflected in Polish singer Nosgov, who is an so4 in my view). Sp4's traits of self-demand and self-centered high superego standards are relatable to me, and I'll leave sx4 up to your consideration too because I'm not informed enough on this subtype's dynamics. I considered sp6 as my soft side, but I don't really see myself reflected in a chronically doubting person, just cynical towards society in general.

I thank you again, wholeheartedly, for the work you dedicate to this subject, which is priceless to people like me, who like to learn.

There is an undeniable presence of both 6 and 4 in you: self-deprecating but elitist, emotional reactivity under stress, an undeniable emotional string that illuminates all of what you’ve written...

As you say, you are still young, and I can spot some things in you that may make your typing difficult. To be honest, you say you’re FiNe and I can see it, but I also see some NiFe things in you that may be worth exploring. By now I’ll just address your Enneagram typing:

I think you’re an E6 649 tritype. Mainly because mind>image, attachment>frustration, you get quite both the superego and withdrawn vibes (due to your 4-9 stem)

“When I adopt the reactive, edgy stance that you can see in my Instagram page, it's because I feel the need to defend myself against the other, assert myself and stop feeling worthless, because from a young age I have felt that nobody took me seriously and that even my parents saw me as immature, childish and abnormal compared to other children.”

E6 attachment and superego.

“My negative beliefs about my own personality led me to develop a negative outlook in life, which could also be confused with E4”

Yes, this can be mistaken with E4 but it’s actually E6, I’ll get to it later.

“I entertain ideas about disturbing, immoral topics in my online posts in a way that has the side effect”

This is double 6-4 reactive stem. In all that paragraph I also see a lot of E6 self-doubt and correcting yourself over and over again to make clear what your point actually is, just in case I get the wrong idea <- E6. That’s not a bad thing, Immanuel Kant who was also an E6 wrote many epigraphs and side notes that is just him overthinking what others may think or answer to his own ideas.

“but I don't see myself in the actual definition of the passion of fear and I struggle to understand it a lot, while envy is more familiar to me.”

I can’t say much about this. Passions are unconscious patterns that are not easy to spot. According to Naranjo the fundamental difference between fear and envy is that the E4 are more expressive and emotional while showing their envy, while the E6 is more intellectual and inhibited due to their fear. You sound more inhibited to me and less intense in your texts and in how you present yourself. But that’s up to you to identify. Passions show as a pattern in our lives issues so… Maybe ask someone who really knows you and that may have an objective opinion about you – specially if it’s not influenced by the Enneagram categories.

“But most of the time I take my life extremely seriously and I'm not an expressive person (at least, I don't want to be, I despise the idea of being that way and I want to remain in control, I hate myself when I feel that I'm not in control),”

This is E6 all the way.

“But I'm not only the self-harmer archetype, I also harbor the rage of the lunatic individual who wants to murder those who wronged him.”

Ignoring the obvious things that you mention here that are far beyond my competence, knowledge and agency… The desire to make others pay for “wronging you” also sounds like E6 superego, there’s the pull and push of guilty and accusation in the E6 – specially the sp6 and soc6.

The main thing that I see that can make you think that you’re E4 and not E6 is the fact that you’re special and different. Which is often associated with the E4 character. It’s a fact that you’re different from people your age, that you’re probably smarter than them and that your interests are deep and not as shallow as theirs. There’s a fundamental difference from which the E4 and the E6 face "being special" that may help you see my point of you being an E6:

There’s an underlying hate towards humanity in all E4s. There’s also a “you’re shallower than me” attitude that they can’t hide nor soften. There’s hatred in the E4 because their frustration towards their own inadequacy gets projected in their self-absorption. E6s, on the other hand, are emotionally moody, and they direct their anger towards what feels wrong – the E6 is told to desire normalcy, so when an E6 knows that they’re different and more profound than others, instead of channelling it through anger like an E4 would, they get drown towards their own inability to be normal.

This got too long so if you want to talk about all the E4 subtypes we can do so through DMs or through another tumblr questions.

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death-in-shift · 1 year

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Vulnerable - DBD Entry

A/N: I thought of this from a roleplay with one of my moots. Jae also has a hard time opening up since he is a distant demon so I wanted to kinda go in depth with his character. I'm also tagging some moots since their muse's were mentioned in this entry <3

Vulnerable means being susceptible to emotional or physical harm.

There are many things that can cause us to be vulnerable, sometimes, it can be risk-taking. I learned that countless times. That’s what makes me emotionally and physically distant, but not to the point of isolation.

Before I gained trust issues, I used to express my emotions, share things to those I thought I could trust, and even expressed physical pain. Those same people I’ve opened up to either vanished from thin air or they took advantage of me. I was ridiculed by my friends or family, went through emotional and mental abuse, was described as “sensitive” or “weak”, or forced into a state of vulnerability by manipulation or even physically. Nothing escalated but it still wasn’t a good feeling... For years, I didn’t learn my lesson; I just kept falling down the rabbit hole of consequences. I always asked myself, “Why was I so lenient? So trusting? What did I do to them to deserve this?” The problem was, I didn’t read between the lines. I was innocent and naïve… I still am. I wasn’t the type to wear a heart on my sleeve but I was the type that wanted to see the good in people.

One of the biggest lessons I learned was that there aren’t many good people left… It was one of those hard pills to swallow. Not all angels are good beings and not all demons are terrible beings. But that doesn’t make every angel bad or every demon good.

After I stopped throwing myself down the rabbit hole of consequences, I stopped trusting people. The only person I really trust with my life is Omarion. He was the only person who never neglected me, never went behind my back, who listened to me, never judged me for who I am and who I became, and still loved me at my worst. He’s the first person to ever see me cry. And he will be the last. Even though some of my demonic siblings and my dad are also trustworthy, I still will turn to Omar.

In The Fog, I ended up making some friends. And my friends caught me in the moments I felt vulnerable. Leon saw me cry for the first time, Jed saw me sick, Roze saw me injured badly by The Oni, Morgana was always there to help me, Lillie saw me panic from the thunderstorm.

And guess what? They didn’t judge me or anything. They didn’t abandon or neglect me. When they comforted me, it left me an uncanny yet warm feeling. Growing up, I didn’t experience much comfort. Being comforted made me suspect the person for pretending to care for me when they don’t. It made me feel like the person felt like they had to do it because it’s expected. I don’t expect anyone to give me pity, sympathy, or anything. This also became the reason why I am awkward when it comes to comforting others. I’m not used to people being nice and caring towards me. I’ve always been treated like an outcast or somewhat a monster. But this won’t stop me from trying to comfort anyone else.

I still feel iffy showing my vulnerable side to anyone, even my friends. This isn’t me putting up a tough and bitchy façade to prove anything…

This is me protecting myself from the trauma.

@ask-the-ghostface @dark-lina @xpricity

#dead by daylight #dbd entry #oc #jae michaelis #jed olsen #leon scott kennedy #morgana the vampire #roze the vampire #lillie

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noxiatoxia · 2 years

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KAORU KDYIGN / HIKARU LIVING TO MOURN HIM IS SO SAD,, its my favorite though! i am mentally ill tee hee

tw suicide Btw. big tw

its just with the way hikaru always feels like he should be fixing things, being the 'protector' and whatnot.. he would so blame himself. especially if kaoru commits suicide. not to get angsty but i love getting fuckinf MURDERED by the kaoru committing suicide trope. just absolutely ruined emotionally. so sad

i feel like kaoru would try to make it as painless as possible for hikaru. like he'd wait until after graduation, move away, distance himself.. plan every last detail so hikaru won't have to suffer through going through all his things/all the other stuff you have to do for someone after they die. in the note, he promises hikaru that this is what he wanted, that he's happier now. hikaru can only see that he's failed somehow. that he couldn't even keep his brother happy enough to stay alive. it completely kills him and there's nothing he can do about it because it's too late. he can't fix it anymore,, its already over

and of course, kaoru makes it so subtle, hides his pain so well. he says that them moving away from each other is the only way for them to truly become independent adults, and he says it with a genuine smile, because he's doing it because he loves hikaru. even though he's doing it so it doesn't hurt hikaru as much when he's gone, he also genuinely wants hikaru to live on his own and learn to be fully independent. hikaru being a fully independent adult was always the end plan to kaoru, whether kaoru was dead or not.

what kaoru didn't understand was that no matter what, it would've still hurt the same. kaoru was under the impression that because they'd grown up, that because he'd convinced hikaru to live alone, and hikaru was happy, he just wasn't necessary anymore. so he could go without consequence or pain to anyone. since he thought of hikaru was so much more important than himself, he didn't think of himself as important or worthwhile, or loved at all. and so he thought everyone else thought that about him too.

everyone was devastated because they truly loved him, but he never lived to learn that. he died thinking no one would care when actually they did, they cared so much, they just didn't *know*.

I'm not good at writing mourning/grief so i can't accurately tell how exactly hikaru would react, and how it would affect him in the long run, but obviously,, he'd be fuckingn destroyed. he really thought everything was okay, everything was going to be alright, they were going to face the world together and be independent together,, that kaoru already got past all of his depressive problems,, and now his brother's gone and he doesn't know what he did wrong.

this is a cry for help! 🌟 /joking but GOD i am a sad sad person aren't i

alternatively, hikaru could figure out he's distancing himself. or one of the others could figure it out and be like 'hey somethings wrong with kaoru' because in the stress of graduating and moving and figuring out what they're gonna do with their lives, hikaru doesn't really notice kaoru's getting really quiet. they're both super busy, living kinda far from each other, so its not *super* weird that they don't talk as much.

i think maybe hani or mori would tell hikaru, since they're not caught up in all the 'new adult' chaos, they already got past that two years ago. so objectively, from an outside standpoint, they can see that the way kaoru is behaving is really weird. and they try to say maybe that's how he copes, he's just kinda weird right now because of stress, etc.,, then he moves miles away and avoids most of their texts and they're like ok somethings wrong. and then kaoru actually gets better and lives when they intervene. i imagine they would bother him every day, especially hikaru. like you think you can escape us??? the ouran highschool host club???? no. answer our texts or we show up to your door and Break in. they refuse to give up on him, and that alone makes kaoru start to believe they really do want him around.

sorry this got so long,, my bad lol

OOOOH MY GOD NO FUCKING WAY NO WAYYY.... OK OK

THIS IDEA BREAK MY HEART AS ALWAYS BUT... ITS SO GOOD!!!! I love death and destruction.

Kaoru could die from a lot of things of course, but I think suicide is one of the most thematically heartbreaking ones. Cuz like you say, Hikaru tries so hard to protect Kaoru. He cares a lot about him, obviously, and so for Kaoru's death to be by HIS own hands... Hikaru would feel like he personally failed somewhere.

God, where do I even begin... well, the start, I think, would be like you said. It's after highschool. Kaoru wants to distance him to make it less painful for his brother, so he literally waits until after HS to do this. But during highschool.... it's always in the back of his head. He tells himself, year 2, he's going to do this. He's going to kill himself. It's perfect, too, because if by the time he graduates and he doesn't feel the same...? No issues. But if he DOES feel the same? Then he feels even more sure in himself. He would feel that, if three years pass and he still feels like this is the best thing to do, then he is right.

It's very scary, because no one notices, and that's mainly because... kaoru isn't "sad" anymore. He had some really bad depressive episodes in their 2nd year, episodes that scared Hikaru to death, scared EVERYONE badly, but they seemed to "go away". Kaoru just... stopped being depressed. It's sudden, but at the time, Hikaru was just so happy to have his brother back he didn't think about the logistics of why Kaoru is suddenly not dealing with his depression anymore.

Simply put, his depression ended the moment he decided he was going to take his own life. He finally felt at peace to know there was going to be an end, a fix-all, and it was going to happen soon. It made him happy. Content. And so, he didn't feel the need to mope anymore, because all their problems would be resolved soon, how could he be sad about that?

So when graduation comes, Kaoru abruptly announces he wants to live on his own. This takes Hikaru by surprise, and at first he fights it. But Kaoru insists he wants to live on his own. He wants them to start being individuals. Hearing this hurts Hikaru, and he asks Kaoru if he's still thinking that "dumb shit" he did back in highschool. Kaoru laughs at him, he says, "No way, I got over that in highschool. I'm doing this for me." and... he seems genuine. So, reluctantly, Hikaru lets him go, because he doesn't want to bar his brother from happiness if this is what he really wants.

Of course, Hikaru doesn't make this easy. He literally texts and calls him everyday. Probably visits everyday, too. Even when they start attending college, Hikaru visits/crashes at his place often.

It hurts, but Kaoru has to up the ante. Because he doesn't want to hurt Hikaru, and seeing as his brother is still too attached, he needs to give him a reason for them to grow distant.

It's simple. He starts telling Hikaru he's busy with schoolwork. He starts saying he's busy hanging out with other new friends he's made. He tells Hikaru he simply doesn't want to talk right now.

All this is bullshit, but it works, slowly but surely. Hikaru spends less time with him, not because he wants to, but because it seems like Kaoru is genuinely busy with his own life, and though it really hurts, Hikaru doesn't want to intrude. He knows they'll always be close, they'll always be brothers, but... Kaoru just has his own priorities and life now. And he has to respect that much. His visits become bi-weekly. His calls every other day, maybe every three days. Still sends at least 1 text a day. Kaoru rarely responds.

And, deep down, he knows he should worry. Something isn't right. Something is wrong, he can feel it. But he's too scared. He's too scared to admit something may be wrong with Kaoru. He was so happy, so relieved when his brother broke out of his depression in highschool. He doesn't want to think it's back, or worse, it never went away. Because then, that means he's never noticed. All this time, he's never noticed Kaoru has been just... lying to him. And the thought makes him angry, angry at himself for not noticing, angry at Kaoru for lying. And he doesn't want to believe it, so he doesn't. Kaoru is simply busy, that's all there is to it. He's stopped answering his texts, his calls. But that's okay. He's just busy. He's not talking to the other Host Club members, either. It's fine. He's busy.

Hikaru caves in and visits him.

That's when, well... I think you can guess. I don't know what Kaoru's method was, but it was probably something as painless as possible. It's not like he wants a painful, gory death. Especially because he knows Hikaru, one way or another, is going to see his body. So he figures out the cleanest, most painless way to take himself out, and does just that. He leaves behind a note, of course. A long one. He addresses all his friends in it, gives them all a specific section to talk to them personally, and Hikaru's is the longest.

Hikaru doesn't think he's ever seen his brother apologize so much before.

And from there... it's a blur. Writing grief may not be your thing, but ohhhh boy, it sure is MY thing.

Hikaru is in shock and is in denial. BIG denial. As in, he's tricking himself into believing Kaoru is still alive. He's not dead, he isn't. Hikaru can feel him with him, still. Hear his voice. He's not dead, he's not.

It's not until Haruhi, bluntly but quiet and sympathetic, tells him he's not coming back. Kaoru is gone.

It's a whirlwind of emotions, then. Hikaru is heartbroken, utterly and completely. Sobbing, wondering how he could have let this happen. This is all his fault. If only he had intervene, if only he had visited Kaoru more, told him he loved him more, actually noticed his pain, noticed he wasn't okay, if only he wasn't so fucking stupid and useless and knew how to help his brother. And because he fucked up, Kaoru is gone forever. It's all his fault. It's all he can think about.

He drops out of college. The only time he sees his friends is when they visit him to give him company. He knows they're just doing it because they're worried about him. And Hikaru wonders why they never did this for Kaoru. They should've.

Soon, the grief turns into anger. At everyone. Why the hell didn't you people do anything? At least one of you had to see he wasn't alright. Nobody but Hikaru visited him, and that's fucked up! It's all YOUR faults this happened! Why do they care so much about him, now that Kaoru is gone!? They wouldn't have to be visiting him like this if they just did their fucking jobs as friends and noticed there was something wrong with Kaoru! He starts lashing out at his friends, his parents. It's all their faults for not trying hard enough. For not caring enough.

And then, after a while, the anger is directed at Kaoru.

Because, what the fuck? What was he thinking? Instead of just talking about it, he goes and kills himself? Why was his brother so stupid? Why couldn't he see this was obviously the worst thing he could have done? Why couldn't he see NOBODY wanted this? That it made nobody happy? Why didn't he just do the RIGHT thing and talk about it? Why was he such a selfish coward to go and take his own life and make everyone else miserable?

The thing is, for most people, pain dulls with time. But not Hikaru. The grief consumes him, because he can't understand, and he's so furious. His anger becomes a core trait of his, he's almost always irritable and rude now. He doesn't want to talk to people, he hates them all. He just wants Kaoru back. He'd give anything to have Kaoru back.

A year later, for the first time since Kaoru's initial passing, Hikaru cries. It comes full circle, and he's back to grieving, to blaming himself, to wishing this was all just some awful nightmare.

If this is anything like how Kaoru was feeling, Hikaru finally understands. It's unbearable. Living day to day life in such constant soul-crushing agony is pure torture, and he just wants it to end.

He wonders if Kaoru was happy in his final moments. If he felt relief. Hikaru wonders. Because he's sure that he would.

He wants to.

And whether or not he does... is up to your personal interpretation.

BUT since shit like this HURTS ME, I'm gonna throw in a happier ending :'D

I like your second idea, that it's Hani and Mori who intervene. Hikaru, like I said, is too scared. Too scared to admit something may be wrong. Hani and Mori see it, though. They notice how distant Kaoru is becoming, how he refuses to talk to anybody. It sets off alarm bells for the two of them, and so they waste no time checking in on Kaoru.

Of course, it's subtle... they're just visiting their friend, cuz he must be lonely all by himself! Hani brings sweets, Mori brings books. Small gifts. And they visit bi-daily.

"You guys, I'm really busy, can you come back later?" Kaoru asks.

"But I brought cake!" Hani would argue. "Just for a few minutes, pleeeeease? We can eat cake and then we'll go!"

And of course the visits are always more than a "few minutes". They rope Kaoru in with eating cake and talking about books or cinderella lmfao and generally getting Kaoru engaged. They don't invite the other club members because this is about KAORU, and they want Kaoru to know that. They want him to feel like the center of attention. Mori and Hani have this planned out, man.

This makes things much harder for Kaoru, because now he has to feel guilty about Hani and Mori, too. Of course he'd feel guilty leaving everyone behind, but the person he worried about the most was Hikaru. But now, suddenly, Hani and Mori seem to want to be his best friends, and that kind of stings.

He's getting conflicted. He tells himself, tomorrow. He'll do it tomorrow.

And the day after that.

And the day after that, too.

It's getting harder to convince himself. And, slowly, Hani and Mori are reintroducing the other members back into his life. Of course, the two let them in on what they're doing, basically instructing them to make sure Kaoru has a good time, cuz that's the goal. They bring Haruhi into it, and then Tamaki, and then Kyoya. Finally, they bring Hikaru into it. They wanted Hikaru to be last in on this, because they know he's indirectly the source of a lot of Kaoru's mental issues. Hikaru obviously has no clue about ANY of this, and so at first he's a little pissed like "YOU GUYS WERE HAVING PARTIES WITH KAORU WITHOUT ME???"

But they invite him, he comes over ofc, and he's really happy to be spending time with Kaoru again. Everyone is, and they make that known.

Kaoru has no clue what to do now. He doesn't know what's the right answer or not.

He writes his suicide note. He doesn't kill himself that night. He puts it away in a box.

It's really meek and awkward and hesitant, but when Hani and Mori visit him alone again one day, he asks them, "Don't you ever wonder if things would be better off if you weren't around?"

And Hani tells him, "If you have to 'wonder' it at all, then they probably wouldn't be."

Kaoru thinks a lot about that response. He wonders so much, always, constantly, about a world without him. How great that could be. But it's always just his imagination, his... dream, so to speak. Never has he thought from Hikaru's perspective, or anyone's for that matter. Never has he thought about the little things in life people may be losing if he weren't around anymore.

He wonders if he's doing the right thing at all.

It takes a bit. He does some thinking. Actual thinking, from every angle. What would the world be like without him? Would it really be better? Would Hikaru really be better off without him? Would anyone?

He thinks about their visits. Everyone seems to genuinely happy with him. They're laughing. They wouldn't have the chance to laugh like that if he was gone.

Hani is a great guy, he starts putting ideas (good ones) into Kaoru's head. Things like "if you can't do something today, there's always tomorrow" and asking him all the things Kaoru wants to do before he dies.

Kaoru's never really thought about that before, but there are things he's never actually done before, even with the money he has. He's never eaten deep fried oreos. Sounds awful, he's so curious, what is wrong with commoners? He hasn't watched every live action Cinderella adaptation. he wants the bragging rights of saying he has. He still hasn't learned Russian, he's always wanted to. Soon, Kaoru is thinking about all these things HE wants, things that are best for HIM. And he realizes, if he dies right now, he won't get his chance to do any of this stuff.

And Hani is right. There's always tomorrow. He doesn't need to end his life right now. It can wait. There's no rush. There's always tomorrow.

The idea that there's an easy way out is like a cushion for him, but slowly, that's all it becomes: a cushion. A comforting thought, and nothing more. It stops being a plan. It even stops becoming a backup. It's just... a comforting thought. And when he moves back in with Hikaru, Hani and Mori throwing them a private little party, it even stops becoming that. It's not really comforting anymore. It's kind of scary, in all honesty.

It's the first time in a while he's thought this, but,

he doesn't want to die.

And it continues like that. Hani is a really wise dude, despite what many may think. And he's influenced the way Kaoru thinks and copes way more than anyone else could. And now, a year later, Kaoru is still alive, and honestly? He's happy to be alive. He's happy he's here with Hikaru. More than happy. And Hikaru is, too.

There's just one last thing he wants to do.

One night, Kaoru says he wants to show Hikaru something. It's really, really important. And Hikaru better not tell anybody else about it. Hikaru agrees, of course.

And Kaoru doesn't know why he wants to, but it feels more like a need. A way to explain to Hikaru what's been going through his head this whole time. A way of finally burying this arc in his life.

He digs out his old, unused suicide note and lets Hikaru read it. All of it.

It's embarrassing, maybe even shameful, Kaoru thinks. It's not something he ever meant anyone to see while he was alive. And having his brother read it in the same room as him makes him feel really ashamed of himself. Hikaru, though... all he can do it read with some sort of icy dread. It grows in his veins, he can barely think about the implications about everything Kaoru has written. All he can think is that his brother, at some point, came so, so close to taking his own life. And Hikaru didn't even know.

Hikaru squeezes Kaoru into the tightest hug ever, trying really hard not to cry, but shaking nonetheless. He tells Kaoru how unbelievably happy and proud he is that Kaoru didn't go through with it. His life would be a nightmare without Kaoru.

Kaoru is happy, too.

And that same night, together, they burn the note outside and watch it go up in flames.

#hikakao #THIS BASICALLY BECAME A #;shortstory #I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS #ohshc #;noxiatalks2ya

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