himiko! Your parents have engaged you to a big muscly guy so that your future is secure! Now you can produce twenty kids and live the life of a salarywoman.
"you're not funny, anon."
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himiko! Your parents have engaged you to a big muscly guy so that your future is secure! Now you can produce twenty kids and live the life of a salarywoman.
"you're not funny, anon."
Elaborating on Jonah mourning a god he created, I like to think of him standing right outside the smoldering ashes of the Archives, and seeing only Jon. His Archive, who's eyes he opened after guiding him through all of the marks. Claiming that bit of forbidden comfort when Jon would seek him for advice, and feeling pride when he compelled people and compelled him. Jonah reminiscing, and wishing to linger, but feeling the pull and need to Know. And he moves on. Decades later, when the Magnus Institute is forgotten, he gets sentimental and starts another Institute, which (due to the apocalypse) is a bit more respected than the original. He names it after Jon.
what kind of tragedy are you?
Doomed from the start
there was no way of winning, and you knew it too. but you still tried. you tried again and again and again to change it. you fought tooth and claw to change your fate, but she cannot be easily manipulated. it’s not your fault. the game was always rigged against you. from the moment you entered the narrative, your fate was sealed. you didn’t stand a chance.
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He was never needed. Not really. Not emotionally, and no one was there for him emotionally, either. Once the physical needs were met, after the apocalypse was finally over, they all left.
As they always did.
Left him alone, again. They didn't need him for that emotional comfort, they never did. And his usefulness for physically being there, stopping apocalypses, was over. He wasn't useful.
He never was. As a kid, he was unique, one of a kind, yet he was still number Five of the Seven kids. Now as he's older, he sees it's not just 6 other kids to compete with, but hundreds of others. Thousands.
He never was special.
Oh.
Everyone you love leaves you when thry realize how much better off without you they are.
“...Wow. What did I ever do to you, Anon?”
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♤
Send me a ♤ and I will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.
34:
“You can’t fix me.”
It's pretty bright out today, isn't it...?