Based off of this picture and voiceline: "I know I'm being selfish—but sometimes, I wish you'd just forget about me..."
(Lol, sorry another angst post)
Haku had planned the entire day for your birthday. A flower waiting at your doorstep. A cafe by the sea for brunch. Shopping afterwards. And if your gaze lingered on something for more than a second, it ended up in his hands instead.
“You don’t have to buy that,” you protest for the 10th time.
Haku just smiled. “Anything for you, princess.”
____
And now you’re at a bench, overlooking the ocean.
The horizon burns gold and pink, infecting its color on everything it touches. Waves brush against the shore rhythmically.
The entire world feels warm and right.
“You’re taking another picture?”
“Obviously.”
“You’ve taken so many today.”
“Of course! I have to.” You start swiping through your gallery.
The flowers. Food. A few selfies. Haku wearing a goofy pair of sunglasses.
“I want to remember everything properly.”
For the first time today, he doesn’t have a quick reply.
The two of you fall silent.
And after a long moment, almost too quietly to hear, Haku murmurs: “I know I’m being selfish…but sometimes, I wish you’d just forget about me.”
Your heart stops.
The wind continues.
The sea continues.
But your mind goes blank.
Because this is the first time.
The first time he said what he truly meant.
The first time he dropped the mask to show what’s underneath.
But it was devastating.
You wait for him to laugh. To tell you it’s a joke. To wave it off.
Instead, he stands abruptly.
“Alright then,” he says, stretching his arms behind his head. “Shall we walk along the beach before heading back?” He says it so casually. As if he didn’t shatter something inside you.
“Uh, yeah. Ok.”
Still dazed, you reach for the shopping bags. Haku gets there first.
“A princess shouldn’t carry things on her birthday, remember?”
Then he starts walking ahead.
You follow slowly behind him, waves brushing against your feet.
You’re so cruel. Asking me to forget you…
And then, treating me so gently.
The sunset layers his skin with a warm gold.
You can’t help but think how similar he is to that sunset.
Beautiful. Yet temporary.
Something that’ll soon disappear beneath the horizon.
Your hand slips into your pocket. Your fingers curl around your phone.
If he’s going to say things like that…Then you’ll remember him yourself. Every smile. Every tease. Every fleeting moment.
You lift the camera.
Frame him carefully with the sunset.
Then Haku turns around.
Snap.
His smile turns into a look of amusement.
You quickly hide your phone behind your back.
“Princess,” he grins slowly, “did you just take a picture of me?”
“N-No.”
“Oh?” He tilts his head. “So you were just holding your phone directly at me for fun?”
“I was taking a picture of the sunset.”
“Really?”
He walks toward you.
“Then let me see.”
You immediately step back.
“No.”
He laughs as he closes the distance again.
“Suspicious.”
“Haku–”
“Come on. It’s just the sunset.”
Finally, heat rushes to your face.
“Fine! I took one! Just one though.”
His eyes curve mischievously.
“And why is that?”
You open your mouth, ready to joke back.
At least…you try.
“So I can remember that smug face of yours.”
But the teasing dies in your throat.
Your eyes sting unexpectedly.
“So that…” Your grip tightens around the phone. “So that I’ll never forget.”
Haku stills.
The breeze passes between you.
The waves still tease your feet.
But the air around him feels completely different from before.
He laughs quietly–but it sounds wrong.
“...Is this a confession I hear?”
“I’m being serious.”
The smile on his face fades little by little. Until it's replaced with thin lips. His shadow falls over you. His hand settles on your shoulders.
“Then...can I be serious too?”
Something about his voice terrifies you.
You shake your head but he continues anyway.
“Anomoalies. Ghouls. Darkwick. You were never supposed to become involved in any of this.”
“Stop.”
“If someday there’s a chance to return to your old life…” You try pulling away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Take it.”
He leans down, forcing your eyes to meet his.
There’s no playfulness. No teasing. No masks.
Just sincerity so raw it hurts to look.
“Please.”
Your chest aches. Your eyes well.
His words echo through your mind once more.
“I know I’m being selfish…but sometimes, I wish you’d just forget about me.”
How could I forget you when I…
“You’re right,” you whisper with a shaky breath. “You are selfish. Really selfish. You drag me all the way out here. Give me the best birthday...And then tell me to forget you.”
Haku’s brows furrow.
“I’m—”
“…But so am I.”
He freezes.
“Even if I reincarnated someday,” your voice trembles. “Even if you blew the match and my memories disappeared.”
You hold his wrist.
“I’m still going to find my way back to you.”
The ocean swallows the silence between you.
This time, you choose to meet his eyes. Determined and glossed over with tears.
“Haku. I’m not going to forget about you…So don’t say things like that.”
For a moment, he simply stares at you. You can see it. The contradiction within him. Wanting to say the perfect thing and yet not wanting say anything at all.
Then something in his expression softens completely.
He pulls you toward him. And wraps his arms around you.
He sighs.
“We really are both stubborn, huh?” he murmurs.
You laugh weakly into his chest.
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mmm. Good question.”
He finally lets you go, but before turning away, he ruffles your hair gently.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that on your birthday,” he says with a crooked smile. “Kinda depressing.”
“It’s ok.”
He studies your still solemn expression. Then bumps his shoulder into yours as the two of you continue walking.
“Can’t forget this handsome face, huh?”
You chuckle quietly.
“Handsome? Pretty sure I said smug.”
“How cruel. Y'know, back at the shrine, I was called the face genius."
"And who lived there? Like 3 people?"
Haku gasps in fake offense.
The two of you carry on with your usual banter.
The sky darkens.
The sun disappears in its final moments.
You take one last look at him...just in case.
Tbh, MC is strong af because if I had to sleep alone in that run down, old abandoned dormitory that looks like a church, I'd die from sleep deprivation before the curse could even clock me. Because what do you mean I have to sleep alone in such a spooky, haunted place when we know there's a spy among the ghouls and anomalies roaming around all the time?
Also, do we even have spirits or ghosts on the island? I don't know, but regardless, I'd be scared shitless. Who knows what's gonna sneak into my room? And what if the spy decides to fucking hurt us? Ayayayaya.
At that point, I'd rather share a bed with Ed or Shion. It'd probably feel safer than sleeping alone in that dark, spooky dormitory while knowing there's a graveyard right next to it 😭😭😭 I'd be dead by that point.
How were you to know the answer you gave him that night would take on a different meaning in the future?
1.3k, heavy(!!) route spoilers, fluff and angst, reader is mc, series: as the months go by
YOU MUST BE IN THE middle of a dream.
Two Alkaids watch you, lovely green eyes glimmering with faint amusement and concern. Neither of them have deigned to answer your question, and isn't that how most of your dreams go?
You've never had one like this before though...
The smile on his face inspires your thoughts to go down an entirely unhelpful route. This was the reason you'd been drinking in the first place. After all, you have a home to return to and the people who care about you are probably worried.
In the exact same way you'd been fretting over the Alkaid—Alkaids?—in front of you. He'd been gone for most of the day, busy with important currently-not-a-Spirit-Lord matters, and—wait.
Where was the second Alkaid hiding this entire time?
A frown tugs at your lips. You're not sure if you like this dream...
"Well then, which one do you like better?" the Alkaids ask, cutting through your thoughts.
They tilt their heads in curiosity, as if the answer isn't obvious. You don't even have to ponder the question. Alkaid is Alkaid, and the second Alkaid is Alkaid too.
The answer is both, obviously.
And, as it turns out, alcohol has ridden you of your weakness. Neither your hesitation, nor your embarrassment are available to talk you down from whatever it is you intend to do to hammer that message in.
You stumble out of the porch swing he'd crafted for you, in the same way he'd once crafted—or, rather, will craft in the future—a canopied hammock, jug still in one hand and your other one aiming for one of the Alkaid's hands.
It passes through his blurry image with ease.
As you blink at your hand, confused gaze tracing the lines on your palm, a scowl begins to form on your lips. Frustration begins to build, leaving your brain to feel as though it's being squeezed behind your forehead.
Once more, you reach for his hand.
Once more, the same Alkaid does not allow you to hold it.
Instead, they both chuckle softly. No matter how many times he invokes his spell, you can't see yourself ever not falling for it—hook, line, and sinker. Your indignation is now no more than a faint memory; and what's left of it is overwhelmed by the longing and desire that, all this time, you've been too afraid to put a name on.
Somehow, you are no longer afraid.
Lips parting, you watch him—both of them—reach out his hand.
This time, you can clearly feel his warmth. He laces his fingers together with yours and gently squeezes your hand. You return the favor, wondering if it's enough to make him understand—love is its name, and it leaves your heart beating loudly only for him.
Oh, you realize, he's real.
"Well?" he whispers, his gaze tender and loving.
Your gaze drops down to his soft lips, almost instinctively. It's infectious—his smile. Perhaps some of your self-restraint remains; you don't indulge in the first thought that pops into your mind. The lingering bruise on your pride, you think, probably plays a part in that too.
As your lips curl into its mirror image, you look back into his tranquil green eyes instead. The other Alkaid remains, still visible in the corners of your alcohol-fueled vision. He watches you rethink your decision with that same smile.
It irks you enough that any pain you derive from not choosing him transforms into self-satisfaction.
"The one...I can hold," you declare, pressing your forehead against Alkaid's. The tangible one, whose eyes widen slightly at your actions. "That's...the one I like."
You have your other arm thrown over his shoulder. If the jug of win in your hand bothers him, he doesn't mention it. Rather, it is only when your hand finds a comfortable place to rest and the jug stops bumping into his back that he inhales sharply.
That one, you fear, is on him. His skin feels much cooler than your hand, your tight grip on the jug's handle having left it warmer than usual. It's a first—usually, the opposite tends to hold true.
"Your hand's warm," he says, closing his eyes. "I wonder...does this mean you don't need me to warm it up anymore?"
"No!"
You pull away, distraught. The jug of wine bumps into his shoulder. In your rush to chide him for playing with your feelings, you miss the reddish hue his antlers have taken on.
Alkaid chuckles warmly, transferring some of his warmth to your hand before he allows you to fully slip away. "Alright, I'm sorry."
He says your name adoringly, in the way you've heard lovers speak of each other. The hint of mischief in his gaze as he pleads innocently for your forgiveness should have you turning your nose up at him.
"Will you forgive me?" he asks, watching you cross your arms.
You both know what the answer to that is. Still, you keep your silence.
On a nearby tree, some of the light pink flowers transform into a bright red fruit. At Alkaid's silent command, a vine reaches out and carefully plucks out an apple. But instead of offering it to you, it leaves the fruit in Alkaid's waiting hand.
"I'm sure you haven't had anything to eat." He offers you the fruit, stifling a laugh at your miffed expression. "For you. Please?"
"I haven't...forgiven you yet." Despite your words, you still take a bite of the apple. It's sweet, though you find its taste difficult to savor when the man in front of you is much sweeter. "But since...you said please..."
His softly smiling expression doesn't change at your words. You find its much harder to tease him these days—especially when his blunt but earnest tendencies tend to put you on the losing side.
"I'm afraid that leaves me with a problem," he says. "I don't want the woman—the woman I care about to be mad at me."
You consider his words for a moment. Not the content, but the way he stumbled over his words, changing course to an entirely different phrase. There are only so many phrases that can be said with that same intensity—like a secret confession, hidden amongst the most ordinary of words.
You want to tell him that the woman I love has a better ring to it. You want to tell him you'll stay—for him. For them.
"I can...think of something," you whisper, tightening your grasp on the once bitten apple. "Stay with me...forever."
And I'll stay with you.
Surprise blooms across his expression. Along with it comes the scarlet hue that colors his cheeks, the one you never seem to be able to mimic in your paintings. He reaches out and caresses your hair.
Your disappointment at his perceived cowardice is brief and easily brushed away.
"I will." Alkaid vows softly.
You believe him.
YOU MUST BE IN THE middle of a dream.
Alkaid watches you from the steps on the porch, lovely green eyes glimmering with sadness. Adorning one of his antlers is starlight given a mortal form, the very same flower from which you'd attempted to make a garland for him. His smile betrays nothing of the fact that he broke his promise.
He says your name and then—
"You like that porch swing a lot. I'm glad."
This is how a lot of your dreams start out these days.
You tighten your grip on the vines that hold up your porch swing. By now, you've given up on any pleasantries—and on shooing him away, or walking away yourself. He always comes back the next day. He always wears that flower.
You are always sitting here, even though you've long since moved back to the world you once called home. The heart wants what the heart wants, doesn't it?
And though you can no longer hold him, your heart still only wants him.
"Stay with me," you say, as always, your voice just barely above a whisper.
And, as he always does, Alkaid vows softly, "I will."
The original premise of this fic was "hey wouldn't it be funny if you inflicted Lars Rorschach (rich, annoying) on Clarence (autistic law student)" and it turns out the answer, if you're me, is that actually it would be a ~144k treatise on the nature of love as a transformational force which requires terrifying faith. But also I do think it was pretty funny.
---
Rating: E
Word Count: ~144k once fully posted
Pairing: Lars Rorschach/Clarence Clayden
Summary:
"You're a talented kid, Clarence," says Rorschach. "If you were a little closer to graduating, I'd be taking you for myself already."
Or: When St. Shelter Academia decides to recruit Lars Rorschach, an internationally renowned CEO, as a guest lecturer, it's Clarence's responsibility as the president of the Student Council to court him. He'll have to be flexible if he wants to make a good impression.
"Oh, her? We broke up last year," your friend of several years casually says one time during a video call.
A beat of silence. You fail to hide the surprise in your voice when you ask the question— "Why?"
From your perspective, they'd been so, so irrevocably in love. Whenever your friend talked about her lover, she was always glowing with pride and joy.
A soft, wistful laugh. "We were too immature, I think. Y'know what they say; first loves never work out."
You're not sure why you suddenly remember this conversation.
“Is something on your mind?”
A gentle, melodic voice lilts and draws your attention away from the photo album in your hands. You’re not sure what drives you to say the next words you say— a hidden insecurity that you didn’t know about, perhaps.
“Do you think this’ll work out?”
Kind, pure green eyes reminding you of the plants in Alkaid’s home searches yours in faint confusion. He tilts his head slightly.
“You mean…” he trails off, carefully watching for your reaction. “...our relationship?”
Something about the way he questions you has you feeling a little silly. You start babbling, trying to explain yourself. “Well, you know what they say about first loves— they never work out, or something like that. Anyway, you looked really cute as a little kid—!”
In an effort to distract Alkaid from your question, you point to a picture in the album. It’s a younger Alkaid standing alone in what looks to be a kitchen, wearing the polite smile he usually does around strangers.
Then, a warmth covers your hand.
“They also say,” Alkaid murmurs softly, “That you never forget your first love.”
Breath catching in your throat, you look up to your lover— your first love. At some point, he had shifted a little closer to you on the small couch and his face was close enough that you could see all the little imperfections that made up Alkaid.
“Even if we do not stay together for the rest of our lives, I don’t think I could forget the memories and sights you’ve given me,” he says quietly. His gaze is intense and sincere and you feel like you’re almost drowning in Alkaid’s unfettered desire for you and your love.
Heart beating rapidly, you hum in response. Laying your head on his shoulder, his hair lightly tickles your cheeks. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds of his breathing alongside yours.
“Me too,” you say, finally. Your fingers link with his and you can feel all the little nicks and calluses that paint his hands. “I won’t ever forget this— you.”
And as the faint light of the setting sun trickles in through the windows, embracing the two of you in a warm hug, you find yourself thinking—
And I sincerely hope that this first love will be my last.
The renewed city of Eden bustled with life; new shops met their grand openings, new towers and buildings reached the sky, and the sweet smell of flowers and fresh vegetation wafted in the air. Citizens got up at the crack of dawn, finishing their daily necessities and rushing off to work by the time the sun reached its peak. Just like them all, Alkaid went out to work. After his friend, the painter across the stars, blessed him with a new world – he pledged to never let his people down; to never let her down.
Alkaid took the responsibility to be the architectural engineer of the city. He spent most of his time working around the clock, catering to the town; creating a picture that was vividly similar to the city where he felt at peace – a city he once called home.
Alkaid took initiatives to build parks, gardens, and restaurants around the town. He even designed them with careful consideration, minding the efficiency and the opinions of others. And soon enough, the once abandoned, desolate mirage of a city had turned into a place abound with life–a shelter for the desperate and destitute; a true Eden among the parched sea of sand.
As Alkaid made his way through the crowded streets of Eden, many gentlemen and ladies greeted him politely. He greeted back with his signature gentle smile, sharing brief etiquette before continuing on his own way. Whilst walking down the stone pavement, he couldn't help but recall his previous days when he was feared by all; being the Master of Eden had him sequestering himself into a mansion at the edge of Green Island, where he’d let “guests” in, and no one out. The enigmatic character he had created for himself rendered him intimidating to the other NEOS.
He took a deep breath and looked forward, pushing his thoughts to the back of his head. The past was long gone, there was no need to worry about it. After all, he had the task to lead a new generation of Eden.
Upon reaching Oasis Park Avenue, he recognised a familiar face amidst the crowd. The image of his saviour under the sweet sunlight flooded into his vision; her white cardigan stood out against the black and grey coats of the citizens, and the red frills of her skirt blew softly in the mild wind. she adjusted her black beret on top of her head when she accidentally bumped onto a gentleman next to her. Hastily exchanging apologies, she continued forward, the awkward smile and soft shade of blush still lingering on her face.
“(Name)?” Alkaid called out, catching her attention – she noticed the light crease under Alkaid’s green eyes as he welcomed her, inviting her over with a well-known sincerity. “Is that really you?”
“I didn't expect you to come back…” Alkaid said, stepping towards her.
“I came to check how my old friend was doing.” She replied with a smile, looking up to meet his gaze. “And, of course, treat myself to a cup of his fragrant tea.”
Alkaid chuckled at her words. Despite being apart for so long, the painter girl didn't change one bit. She still had that distinct sense of innocence to her which allured Alkaid in their first meeting – yet, he knew very well she was the bravest person he'd ever been acquainted with.
“That can certainly be arranged,” Alkaid replied. He stopped in his tracks when the little painter held his arm. They used to walk around town holding each other's hands when Eden was under great threat. Alkaid had struck a deal with her; a deal of romance that only lasted for 3 days, just to please his own sanity. So, in spite of his uneasiness, Alkaid welcomed the feeling. “I’ve got a humble abode with a small garden at the entrance. And I designed it myself.”
She let out a small laugh. “Alright. And is it the same design as the house you had before?”
“You'll see for yourself.” Alkaid smiled. “So, shall we be on our way?”
“I'd love to but…” she looked at Alkaid with an eyebrow raised. “Don't you have to go to work or something?”
Ah, yes. His job… Alkaid was so engrossed with the idea of being visited by his beloved that he forgot that he had a job to do.
“Oh… well, that–”
“No, no,” the girl protested. “it's fine. You can go to work. I'll check around the town and see what’s going on. I'll even bring you a few snacks!”
“Thank you, but I do not need the snacks–”
“Consider it a treat!”
Alkaid blushed at the enthusiastic nature of the girl. How could he ever resist and say no to the sweet smile she showed him everytime she proposed something. “Alright, but… will you be alright?”
“I'll be fine,” she said, already excitedly walking down the street without him. “Besides, maybe I'll take my time and visit some art galleries? Are there any museums nearby?”
Alkaid sighed. “Alright, I'll accompany you to an art museum before taking my leave.”
Oh, this energetic girl would be the end of him.
***
Alkaid entered the premise of his mansion. Through the gate, into his garden. The fresh smell of roses and lilies welcomed him forward, inviting him into his own little paradise. His day went as usual – work, lunch with colleagues, and more work … nothing out of the ordinary.
He looked up, noticing his mansion glimmering under the warm sunlight of the afternoon. Sunlight glinted on the window panes, and rebounded onto the greenery nearby – from the tall pine trees to the bushes adorned with colourful flowers, and to the vines wrapped around the trellises, leading all the way to the entrance.
Alkaid got inside his abode, went up the stairs, and followed to the end of the hallway and into his room. And with a sigh, he took off his coat, closing the door behind him. He put the coat down on the bed, and allowed himself to fall on the soft mattress.
Oh, to relax on the bed after long a day of work – a satisfaction well-known by everyone. But, Alkaid couldn't stay there for long, he had his garden to attend to, as well as other things. Speaking of other things, where was his expected guest?
He hoped he didn't make her wait for too long. He dreaded the thought of her leaving; of her losing patience and going back to the stars, to her own universe – never to be seen again. She didn't forget about him ... did she?
“No, that,” Alkaid mumbled, mustering up his remaining strength to sit up on the bed. “That's not right. She would never forget about me,” Alkaid continued, running a hand through the blond locks of his hair. His words were left unanswered. And under the solemn light of the twilight, he felt even more isolated. “...right?”
***
And the evening proceeded leisurely. Alkaid tended to his garden, pruning the rose bushes to its perfect shape. He was meticulous with his moves; snipping the excess branches with utmost care. He did not mind the water droplets that hit his shirt, dampening its soft material. His mind was busy with other thoughts: especially thoughts about her. She hadn't returned yet, despite it being dark outside. Was she safe? She didn't get into trouble, did she? Alkaid hoped she was safe. He wished he could've been there with her – protecting her from the disasters of the world, just like what she had done for him.
Then a new thought bloomed as he moved around, towards the flower bed near the entrance: why did he expect her to come back? Did he still harbour the feelings he once had for her? No, that must be untrue, for the Prefect Luminary had taken away his emotions – used it as a bargaining chip, and he also took away the Master of Eden’s powers, eradicating the old Eden.
As Alkaid was about to move onto another batch of flowers, someone entered through the gate. It was her; hastily closing the gate before rushing towards the man. A bouquet in her hand.
“Sorry, I'm late, Alkaid!” She exclaimed, running over to him.
“It's alright,” Alkaid said, chuckling at her naivety. “Welcome to my garden.”
“Goodness, Alkaid, you wouldn't believe how many people I had to ask for your location,” she rambled on, without a rest to catch her breath. “I thought that-”
“Hold on. Didn't I tell you my address before leaving you at the museum?”
The painter girl fell silent after listening that. “I might've forgotten…”
Alkaid chuckled once again, shaking his head as he walked up the stairs, reaching the plateau. “Please, come inside and make yourself comfortable, (Name). I'll brew you a cup of tea.”
The girl followed him inside. Marvelling at the designs. The interior was the same as she had seen last time; the decorations, the flower embellished foyer, and the ever-so-familiar scent of flowers that reminded her of the past.
“It's the same as before…” she commented.
Alkaid smiled, acknowledging her comment, leading her towards the living room. The girl went in, and looked around the place a bit – what came to view first was the flowers decorating the furniture and sweet aroma that came with it. She took a seat on the couch. If she hadn't known better, she definitely would have commented how Alkaid’s mansion literally had the fragrance of a flower shop.
After a while, Alkaid brought her a cup of freshly brewed chamomile tea. It’s sweet aroma filled the air, and she enjoyed the tea wholeheartedly. Alkaid was surprised as she didn't hesitate this time, knowing the past ordeals they had shared, but he didn't bother saying them aloud. Instead, he only smiled and accompanied her.
His eyes then began to trail down to the bouquet she had brought with her. A quaint bouquet with freshly cut roses – white ones, to be precise. The ones he'd loved so ardently; symbolising purity and innocence – just a reminder of the person he was deep down. Along with the roses remained small forget-me-nots, standing out in the white palette of roses, painting the bouquet in small strokes of blue.
The painter girl noticed Alkaid staring at the bouquet. She put down the cup of tea on the teatable. “Oh, yeah– this is for you,” she said, handing the bouquet to Alkaid.
Alkaid took it, observing the flowers for a moment before smilling, uttering a small thank you.
If he remembered correctly, the forget-me-nots symbolise love and respect – reminding himself that the girl would never forget him; he would never get lost among her endless memories. Even though she had to travel across many worlds, make many voyages across the universe – she wouldn't dare forget him; it was an oath of remembrance.
“Thank you, (Name),” Alkaid said, smilling at the girl. “It looks amazing.”
***
After enjoying their evening tea, Alkaid proposed that they should stargaze together. And in spite of their differences, all the prototypes of Alkaid had their own fascination or connection with the stars. And the painter girl found that endearing, so she didn't refuse. Soon, they found themselves on the rooftop, looking at the stars, beyond their own little haven; over the Eden they shared.
“(Name)...” Alkaid began, “I wish you didn't need to leave.”
“Me too…” she replied, staring up at the sky dotted with stars. “I wouldn't dare leave my friend alone like this.”
Ah, yes… a friend. That's how she viewed him. Alkaid didn't mind though, she might have had other people who were interested in her, and she also reciprocated the feeling – it didn't bother him at all. Yet, why did his chest feel tight at the mere thought of another man holding her hand for eternity?
“Well, it is quite uneventful without you around,” Alkaid muttered under his breath, praying that his words never reached her ears. He didn't wish to be a bother; to be the reason for a strain in her relationship with whomever she was in love with.
“Really?” She turned to Alkaid. “I'll try to visit often, then. Just, not too often… or else, there’ll be consequences, I'm sure you understand.”
Yes, she didn't visit often and had to be cautious when travelling – it's to avoid the gaze of the Eternal Empire, lest they should try something heinous upon her as well.
“Yes, I understand,” Alkaid said, soothing himself. “But there's one thing I don't quite understand…”
“What is it?” she asked.
“... Nevermind.” Alkaid replied. His feelings for her could never be described with words. His fascination for her was something otherworldly. He would defy fate and go against the stars just to please her – and he was willing to take an oath to stay loyal to her, forever and ever.
But, he didn't want her to regret her decision. She was born a traveller, blessed with the power to cross the stars. Alkaid couldn't keep her with himself in his mansion no matter how hard he tried. So, he preferred to keep quiet.
“Let us enjoy this moment then.” she said, looking up at the sky again.
Alkaid looked at her hand. He didn't know why he thought of holding it suddenly – to interlace his fingers with hers and let the warmth of her palm flow into his. He inched his hand forwards, almost brushing his fingertips against hers. And yet, his fears held him back. He retracted his hand faster than he anticipated.
“Thank you for visiting me, (Name).” Alkaid mumbled. “I'm pleased to have you as my guest.”
And thus, they remained under the serene sky, watching the stars – thinking of a world where they could reside in peace without the barrier that was holding them apart.
SPOILER OF SPIRIT WORLD ALKAID EPILOGUE!! PLS PLS PLS READ THIS AFTER YOU COMPLETE THE ROUTE!!!
When you open your eyes, a new day, or rather, a new era has arrived.
The first thing you notice is how the sky is very clear and there is nothing eerie about it anymore. The sun lacks the usual menacing wings, illuminating the entire Spirit World with its endless light, waking up every Asha residing in this world. In a way, it’s also a sign for their freedom, escaping the shackles of Lord of the Light. A ray of hope for a better tomorrow.
You draw your hand to cover your eyes, slowly adjusting your eye-sight to its light. After a while, you pull your hand back, still staring at it as you draw both of your hands in front of you as if you are trying to catch the light on your palm. Instead, the sunlight reaches every inch of your skin, embracing them with endless warmth. It makes you shudder a bit, not because it's suddenly cold, but because of how familiar this warmth is to the warmth that once flowed through your body whenever he embraced you.
The same warmth left your palm the moment he fades.
You can fill a pang from your heart.
Basking in the sunlight, your eyes catch a few tiny lights floating in the air. Those tiny lights resemble the scattered stars in the night sky that you always love to see from Earth. You once told him about how beautiful the sky with stars is, and that “it’s too bad that Spirit World doesn’t have it.” You remembered you pouted , showing your disappointment, and it rendered a small chuckle and soft graze from his index finger on your cheek. Yet, he still displayed amusement from your description, hearing your story as he silently gazed at you, as if he had witnessed the starlight by himself. As if the starlight was present during that time in front of him.
Maybe he did.
The starlight surrounds your view, its dazzling light decorates the forest, like a snow that coats every surface where it lands, making this place look so ethereal. Despite this phenomenon being out-of-place, it somehow fits the forest, seemingly always present before, just in different forms. That, whenever it presents, it always makes the forest more alive. It reminds you again of the starlight you once– no, you always used to see in his eyes.
The same starlight that disappears as you stare at his eyes one last time.
And, as if the world is mocking you, the starlight lands on your lips, like a sugar that coated your lips when you eat something sweet.
The fallen star kissed you, fulfilling his one last selfish desire, before completely becoming one with the sea of stars.
And why is the starlight around you turning blurry suddenly? Why do you feel something warm sliding on your face and making its way on your trembling hands that feels empty, yearning to hold something? Unconsciously, you grab the empty air, silently hoping that just one last time you could hold him. Praying to whatever beings that will hear your plea, to wake you up from this nightmare that anguishes your soul.
Is it okay to comfort yourself, pretending the warmth that you feel– right here and right now– is the same warmth that you felt when you were embracing each other during those days? The same warmth that engulfed you when you were sleeping, your safe haven in this once doomed world. With the warmth, there was usually a small mutter accompanying it, whispered on your ear, lulled you to your slumber:
"I promise, I will never leave you alone."
'... Liar.'
You wanted to spite that word, yet that word is stuck in your throat. After all, how can you? It's so inconsiderate to call him a liar after that promise. No, not after what he did just to fulfill your selfish wish. Your selfish wish that drove the selfless man into sacrificing his whole being, presenting his love through a new world you wish for. It had already become his only wish and he managed to accomplish it. The fallen star answers your wish, passing its flame to light a new world for you.The light passes his warmth, burning your skin and aching heart as you wail his name over and over again like a broken record. What once was calling his name like a mantra to summon him to accompany you wherever you are, now feels like a curse that is embedded in your soul.
A curse where no matter how hard you look and how loud you scream his name, until it burns your throat, you will never be able to find him.
——————————————————————————————————
It took you a lot of time to recover from what you just went through in Spirit World. Cael, as usual, understands your current conditions, giving you some space and trying his best to help you whenever he can. He often brings small gifts: paints, hairpins, brushes, whatever can distract you from your own mind.
Today, he delivers you a letter, immediately leaving you after doing so. You don’t really question his sudden leave, having no mood nor energy to do it anyway, and you are already getting used to Cael's strange-yet-familiar behavior.
Staring at the unopened envelope, you flip it back and forth to find any clue from its cover. You can’t recall anything that requires letters lately, unless the whole trip to Spirit World had broken your brain or memory, somehow. You chuckle a bit at your stupid joke.
Flipping the letter seems to stir the air around you, filling the air with a familiar scent. The scent of soil and morning dew pulls you out from your clouded mental state, drawing your breaths to halt. Carefully, your hand opens the envelope, mentally begging your trembling hand to not screw you up by accidentally ripping its content from too much tremor. Finally, you open the folded letter as you calmly read it.
And it takes a lot of effort to not scream and wet the paper with your tears. There’s no way you will let your tears fall on the paper and blur his last words. You don’t want to see whatever he left behind, the Spirit World and the words he wrote on this letter, disappear from your sight ever again just like he did.
Yet, as this letter re-open your wound, there are lines that comfort you, as if hearing his whispering voice right next to you.
"Things in this world may not always go as planned, but the seeds sown will eventually sprout. When the time comes, I will witness your smile. "
Putting the letter on the table, you lean on the sofa, momentarily closing your eyes that are still pouring tears, then gently open it to see a sea of stars just above you.
Starlight.
Alkaid, have you become the starlight, watching me from up there? That’s not fair, Alkaid. It doesn’t count as ‘not leaving me alone, silly deer.’
Tonight, you find peace with the storm in your heart.
You want to witness my smile? You better come then. I will wait for you.
Oh, I can do that for you.
Notes:
DEERKAID PUSHED MY SAD BUTTON SO HARD THAT IT PERMANENTLY JAMMED AND NOW I HAVE TO WRITE THIS TO VENT MY BLEEDING HEART.
A FUCKING HEARTBREAK IS WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE ME WRITE, REVIVING THIS LURKING BLOG.
And now I feel obligated to post more stuff. Be it drawing etc, I'll post when I can, feel like LBC brainrot is more alive on tumblr than twitter.
Anyway, guys, Spirit World was great. *wipes tears*, I apologize it kinda sucks (wording-wise i feel it does), I'm not good with words </3
I’m seeing a lot of people saying this post changed their brain chemistry, and as a neuroscientist I wanted to say yes!!! Yes it does!
Wanting something requires dopamine signaling, but liking something doesn’t.
If you have a mental illness/disorder that affects dopamine, you might feel that you don’t want to do the things that you like. You do still like them. You will appreciate having done them.
Let your likes guide you.
(If you want to read more, here’s one experimental paper about it. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5171207/ This theory called the incentive-sensitization theory was originally created to explain behaviors in addiction but can be applied elsewhere as well)
Rewards are both ‘liked’ and ‘wanted’, and those two words seem almost interchangeable. However, the brain circuitry that mediates the psych
This is true of the manga, but I love how the anime accentuates the absolute physical trust the apprentices have with Qifrey. Specifically with Agott, the way she is so ready when Qifrey says “hang on tight, I need my hands free” to cling to him a mile into the sky, and then in the latest episode, how, as soon as she impacts Qifrey while flying to him, she makes no move to save herself, she just curls into him and trusts that he will keep them from falling.
And I think it works as a signal to the audience, to subtly go “hey, I know we don’t trust Qifrey right now, he’s being shady, but we can always trust him to protect the physical wellbeing of his kids. Remember that.” Idk man maybe I’m getting too attached to a teeny detail but aaaaaaghhhh that’s her dad.
#anyways i think it's particularly notable that fiercely independent always-has-something-to-prove Agott is like this with him#and that none of the apprentices really hide how they're feeling around him even when that feeling is negative#Agott and Richeh make it known when they're unhappy with Qifrey#and they (two abused kids) just flat out wouldn't do this if he wasn't a safe person to be unhappy at
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