#Coping with Loss

[excitementshewrote]

[chaosmagetwin]

I took a deep breath, knocked on the wooden door, and felt my tail flick with nervous energy. "Hello? I'm from the Bureau of Device Regulation? Is this... Is this the home of Sofia Way?"

"Oh! Just a minute!" An elderly voice called back, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. It'd been a lot of travel to get out here, away from the offices and bustle of the city. A couple trains, a bus ride, and a thirty minute hike past the wind farms that I'd underestimated. Worse, it was hot, making sweat drip down my chest and soak the blouse I'd chosen to look professional.

The door opened, and for a moment, I took in the sight; an elderly woman with silvery hair kept in a tight bun, an old frumpy dress, and big round glasses that had been in fashion a few decades ago. She was taller than me, despite her slight stoop. From her head sprouted a couple of horns, black, the paint on them peeling slightly, revealing cold steel in patches. She gave me a kind smile, and opened the door the rest of the way, revealing her cane. "Hello, dear. You must be the update tech." She had a husky, raspy voice.

I gave her a shaky smile back, and tried to remember my training for a minute. "Yes ma'am. Uhm. Obsolete Cybernetics Technician, Eliza-Kat Jones, ma'am." Her eyes crinkled, and I felt myself relax a little. Sometimes people took offense to the name, with the tail. Too 'on brand' or something. Usually they were more mad that it was obvious I chose my own name. "It's time for your one year checkup. Digitally speaking, I mean. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Sofia Way. Charmed, Eliza-Kat. It's lovely to see you. Please, come in. I have some water on. Would you like some tea? It's a local variety." She let me step into her home, and I glanced around, taking it in quickly as she lead me to the living room; the photos on the walls, the old furniture, the soft pastel three color flag displayed proudly on the wall, the old electronic piano, and stack of consoles attached to the television. All pre-revolution. Some newer ones, too, produced more ethically.

"Yes, please," I say absentmindedly as I take it all in. Strange to see photos. Ancient technology at this point. Even stranger, there was no A.R. paint, nothing my eyes could pick up at all in the digital way. I guess older folks never really made that transfer. Not even digital sticky notes, or timers, or... or anything. Plenty of people kept it to a minimum, of course; no one likes clutter. But none felt... how did one stay organized? There were literal bookcases, filled with paper books. I recognized some of the titles; classics, here and there, but mostly romance, if the covers were anything to judge by. And art books, too.

I let myself sit on the couch and felt myself sink in the too soft cushions and fall. I struggled for a moment and found a slightly stiffer cushion, and hurriedly fixed my hair. "So! Uhm! You have a lovely home, Miss Way." It was eclectic. Funnily enough, it felt similar to mine in some way. An organized chaos. Old technology. A wide range of interests, some with more dust on them than others.

"That's a lovely thing to say. Now, what can this old demon do for you?" She spoke as she came into the room with a tray, setting it down on the messy coffee table before sitting opposite from me on an armchair. Neither of the cups had liquid yet; it must be steeping still.

"Oh, well, uhm, we got your email a month ago. And, we just... we wanted to make sure you weren't making any rash decisions, you know?" I winced at my phrasing and grabbed my tail out of anxiety, trying to pass it off like I'd sat on it wrong. "What I mean to say is, are you sure you want to stop getting updates?"

She laughed softly, covering her mouth demurely as she did. "Oh, Miss Jones. I'm afraid the updates aren't necessary any more. I... know that I am the last person in the country with this piece." She tapped her horns carefully.

"Yes, ma'am. They're a sensory type, yes?"

"They are! I got them while I was quite young, to supplement my failing hearing. Too many loud parties and raves. It was offered to me as an option, instead of a simple ear replacement." She smiled wanly. "You understand the mechanics of it?"

"Yes... though it's not my specialty. Only about three hundred were ever made, and the company went out of business a few years later. It's... err, sensors on the inside of the horn that vibrate with sound, right? Mimicking a natural eardrum and the vestibular system?" She nodded. "It wasn't a very... popular cybernetic implant."

"Not exactly, no. I was thirty when I got it. Just before the revolution, though, that company went out of business first. I didn't think it would really need updates when I got it. Physical repair, sure... everything wears down, after all." She pulled wryly at her skin with a bemused expression. "But updates caught me off guard. One day, I heard it beep, and suddenly I was simply deaf. Not long after that, the BDR was formed, so I suppose I should count myself lucky. I wrote in a letter, and they got a technician out to me in less than a month, and replaced the parts that had been designed to fail."

"I understand. May I ask, then... Why are you discontinuing your updates? You've indicated that you're not getting new implants to replace it..." I felt my voice tremble. I knew the answer. "May I ask why that is?"

"... oh, you know how it is. We old people are stubborn...." She sighed, and looked out the window, and I saw a deep well of sadness. "My... wife died, some time ago now. And I'm just... out of energy. You're young, still... What are you, twenty four? Twenty eight?"

"Twenty three, ma'am..."

"And already working for the government! Impressive. You must've done well in tech school. You should be proud!" I could hear the pride in her voice, and flushed a little. "As you get older, things slow down... even, sometimes your mind. I'm sure you've heard it before, but, entertain me..." I nodded, though I felt my teeth grit. "For you, this old technology is a curiosity. And, now your job. You trained to repair and reprogram it. How many updates have you put into this piece? Three, right?" I blinked, surprised, then nodded. She gave me a wry smile. "I can tell because the quality has gone up considerably under your care. I can tell you care about your work. Not just eliminating bugs, but improving the processing with the hardware already present? Impressive."

"T-thank you! I... I didn't think it would be that noticeable!" I couldn't help but beam in pride. It was nice to be recognized. Sometimes, this work was a little thankless, and it was rare to actually see the faces behind the implants.

"It was! I heard things I hadn't in years. Including, funnily enough, the whine in electronics!" I flinched. "Hah! Don't worry, dear, I don't mind. The reason I am not switching is because it's pointless now, not your work."

"... but.... if we stop updating, you'll lose your hearing..." I couldn't keep my voice from catching. I knew what she would say next.

"I know. It's okay. I know that you saw the other part of my letter." She paused as I looked away, my hands squeezing on my bionic tail, making pain flare up my back. "I'm sorry, my dear. I know you trained a lot to learn the coding language for these old horns."

"It's not that! You! You're the last person with these implants! And you're dying, and you won't replace them, and you won't let us update them! You're just.... you're just dying."

She nodded, smiling calmly at me. How could she be so calm? "Yes, I am. I've made my peace with that. My doctor broke the news to me a few months ago. It turns out, the horns are... killing me. I didn't understand the reasoning behind it. Something about old implants breaking down..." She touched the skin where the horn connected, and I felt my heart break, and with it tears began to stream down my face. It wasn't fair. "They, my doctor, said it was too late, really. I should've made the swap twenty years ago. But, I never could have, you know? They're.... part of me. It's like someone offered to cut off my hand! Not because it was doing anything anyone knew about, but because it was old! Twenty years ago, I was sixty. Already old, or so I thought...." She chuckled again.

"You still have time! You have... you have friends, right? Won't you want to hear them?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that I'm quite alone now. Life hasn't always been so kind to me... many of my friends died in the revolution. Fighting for the world we live in now. After it, the ones who lived... Well, not everyone is kind to people like me.... like us." She looked pointedly behind me, and I followed her vision to the flag. "Especially not after the war. It's always two steps forwards, one step back. Many of them were caught in the one step back parts of history. Then by things like cancer, or homelessness... then by things like heart attacks... and then, two years ago, by old age. Aneurysm, technically. I don't mind being alone, you know. It wears on me, but I've enjoyed the quiet most of my life, and I remember all the love I've felt through it. It hasn't gone away. And it makes me so glad to see young people these days, so out and free. It's what we all worked for. All of which is to say.... is that I'm ready. My affairs are all in order." She finished her sentence as I forced myself to stop crying.

"It's not pointless..." I said through the welling up tears. "There'll be people there! And.... and you'd be passing in total silence! You wouldn't even hear anyone say goodbye...."

"Plenty of people do. There's nothing wrong with that," she said gently as she leaned forward, and poured the tea. "Here, drink up. It should be ready now." I took the cup gratefully. "You seem awfully invested in this. Shouldn't you be happy your workload is being lessened?"

I sipped my tea, trying to steady myself. "I just... I didn't think it was fair. My supervisor brought me the letter. When I took your case, you'd been the last person with these implants for.... five years. The person who had been assigned to you, they quit, because you wouldn't update. They didn't understand! They don't know what it means! The importance of... of being supported. Why the BDR exists." The tea was excellent. Of course it was. Why would I be surprised? Fresh, flowery. The subtle hint of green tea flavors. "I read your case file."

"Yes, I suspected as much," she said, bemused.

"I didn't mean to pry. It's just... I needed to know who you were. Why it was important... because it's never just the function with some implants." I flicked my tail forward, showing it. "I've always had a bad sense of balance. I'm so lucky that implants exist at all. But, I had a lot of options that weren't this. Different ways of achieving the same thing. I had the choice, and I chose this. I know what it's like! And.... and I broke the rules, and got invested." I couldn't keep the shame out of my voice as I looked away, embarrassed. "We're alike. And... I know that I don't know you. But I feel like I do! I didn't want you to..." My voice cut off as my throat closed, unable to say the words.

"That's very kind of you, Eliza-Kat. I wrote that letter to release you from your obligations. You are very talented. These past few updates have truly changed my life. You've done so much for me. I wanted to let you put your talents to work in more modern implants. You could be helping a lot more people than just me."

"I do! You're... You're just one case. I work on dozens of obsolete implant models, from the years 2030 to 2060... I... I help hundreds of people. But I took your case intentionally! It doesn't matter that you're the only one! You deserve to have someone working on your case! You deserve to not have to die in silence, and I know! That a lot of people do anyways. But.... you don't have to. I came because I wanted to offer that to you. To offer.... I want to keep working on your implant, until the day you don't have it anymore. And I know... I'm being selfish. My boss told me. My therapist told me. I know it's... disrespectful of your written wishes." I put the tea down, and gripped my skirt with shaking hands. "But I wanted... to offer it." Why was talking to people so hard? Why did my eyes always betray me with tears? Why did my throat close up like this? I just wanted to talk. Like a professional. To make this offer with a cool, calm voice, and change her mind, because.... because I wanted her to change her mind. It wasn't fair.

The pained look on her face made the sob burst free of my chest. She put her own tea down, and offered her hand. "Oh... my dear, I'm so sorry." I took her hand and held it, failing to control myself, and had to cover my face with the crook of my elbow. I don't know how long I cried, or when exactly she moved to sit next to me, holding me, comforting me when it was her impending death coming. It was frustrating. She didn't know me. I barely knew her, and it was only from a case file. To be this emotionally invested....

When I finally came to a hiccoughing stop, she pushed the tea into my hand. "Drink, please. You need the water." Her voice was so soft. Understanding. Like she didn't blame me for being like this.

"I just... I find you so incredible," I whispered. "You were a revolutionary. An activist. You were a part of the force that steered this country away from self annihilation, and into a better world. All before I was ever even born! It's not fair that someone like you be alone at the end. I... I'm sorry. I don't... I don't mean to make this about me."

"... it's okay. To be honest, it's something I've had practice with. I never thought I'd make it to thirty, let alone eighty! Let me make a counter offer. Stop working on my horns. And don't let me be alone when I go. I've a date picked out, and I got the news yesterday that my doctor consented as well. If you are afraid of me dying alone... afraid of you dying alone... then why don't we change that?"

What could I say, but yes?

The day of her death, two months later, was one filled with joy. It'd taken effort, but no one had ever accused me of not working hard. I handed off my cases, took a sabbatical, and wrote to as many old revolutionaries as I could. Her close friends were gone, but she had more people who remembered her than she realized. People who were happy to show up. It was practically a party. We said goodbye in written words, and sign language. We brought flowers. She'd turned her implant off a month earlier, though she wouldn't let them be removed. She wanted to be cremated with them. We talked to each other through messaging services, through written words, through stumbling signs, and she told me about her life. Lessons she wanted me to learn.

Her funeral was a day later. People stood up to speak over her casket. They spoke of her life, parts never talked about in her case file. Of how she touched their lives without ever knowing it. A few were like her. Like me. Not every story was positive, but that was okay. Some were funny. A few talked about how she'd bump her horns into door frames when she was young. Some talked about how she and her wife had been disgustingly into each other. Or how she loved to talk about her latest fascination, like some show that came out. Some talked about her activism; the younger members about how something she had said had changed their perspective.

And then everyone left, and she was returned to the soil. And I went back to work, still alone, but completely changed.

[evenlis]

Life didn't stop to let me grieve you. It went on ahead, and I, with it,kept moving. In a way that was good, I mustn't halt to cry over something that's already gone. I didn't shed tears, but I did miss you.

- Evenlis

[kharmii]

I've got to write an appreciation post of my new favorite thing. I recently watched Black Clover E.138 'In Zara's Footsteps' which was a Zora Ideale themed episode that made me love him more.

-So it starts out a flashback into Zora's childhood. His now deceased father gets a sprig of white gladiolus from a meek flower seller who gives them away for free because Zara is his hero. He tells his equally meek son that he was partial to the fragrance of those particular flowers.

Fast forward to the present. Zora is lounging seductively in a tree dressed like a dirty whore. He looks somewhat like Zagred and eerily like a zoroark gijinka from pokemon. (HAHAHAHA...don't go there in that fandom, yeesh...)

He says sarcastically, "Yeah.....like I have time for crap like that... I don't need to train with them. I didn't join the Black Bulls to make new friends and play around."

(The teeth look real, and his jaw looks unhinged. There's some not spoken of f-up somewhere in this design)

He goes off on a solo trip to really put his nose to the grindstone. They have to fight wars with demons and sheeit, so he has to really focus on his training. He dons a full-body-covering nondescript robe to cover his tiddies so random creepos with freaky tastes don't flash cash at him again. Zora is actually a sensitive introvert, so he doesn't appreciate that sort of attention. For some odd reason, he decided to put some unnecessary accessory on his robe that looks vaguely like a collar and leash. Whatever dude.....

This comes on the heels of the Gordon themed episode. Gordon is a freaky soft-spoken guy who can't handle being alone. He needs the constant company and emotional support of his friends. Zora, otoh, claims he doesn't need friends. He probably doesn't mean that 100%, but he's the type of person who thrives on solitude and needs a lot of alone time to recharge his social batteries.

Zora stops at his village to visit his dad's grave and leave his favorite flowers. Viewer sees a lot of good shots of his sad tired looking eyes and can tell his flippant and douchey manner of speech is hiding a deep sadness and weariness.

He's surprised to find out someone else already left those same flowers recently, and he talks about how his dad was the pride of their village because he was the first commoner to become a magic knight. Now there are more of them, thanks to Yami, but back then, it was unheard of.

Walking through a forest, he happens on some kid training fairly decent water magic without a grimoire. He says, "This kid's got potential. Well, good luck with that..." and prepares to walk away unseen, but the kid gets accosted by some visiting nobility.

Zora ends up chasing them off with a stink bug, but the kid gets a parting shot at them. Zora admonishes him for going against three guys. The kid's dad shows up and asks him why he looks upset. At no point does he assume the freaky looking guy with sharp teeth and tattered robe might be the cause. Good thing, because he would have been wrong. Zora doesn't scare the children.

The kid rants about how he wishes he had a different family that wasn't poor, and how he wished his dad was more like Zara so he could train to be a magic knight. Zora is perturbed, but the dad says he's right and starts denigrating their family for the hard times they were going through.

Zora wordlessly picks the child up and hauls him off in a fireman's carry while the dad is in no way panicked. Zora must have that sort of presence. He dumps the kid in front of his dad's grave and tells him to call him, "Awesome Mask Guy" and he will call him "Snot-nosed Shrimp". He talks about how his dad never complained about anything and never had a harsh word to say about anybody. The kid expresses resentment that he is aiming too high.

The sentiment brings back a memory of when more normal looking Child Zora told his dad he was aiming too high because commoners couldn't become Magic Knights. His dad kept trying over and over and failing. The dad replied that he may have failed the Magic Knights exam more times than he can remember, but he didn't think he set his sights on something unachievable. He only tells him he will join the magic knights someday because he honestly believes it will happen one day. -And it eventually did happen.

-So he tells the kid that if he told the other kids who accosted him that he would be a magic knight someday with a straight face, then he must believe he can do it. If that was the case, then he wasn't aiming too high. He said his dad used to talk like that too.

Zora shows the kid the doll his dad gave him, and the kid starts ripping on him asking if the doll is supposed to be him? Zora replies that the doll is Zora the Supermage the Mysterious Herald of Justice. He may talk a lot of smack but he's a good man. He fights evil from the shadows. The kid keeps ripping on him and saying he's not a toddler. He says it's a lame back story and asks him if he's srsly into dolls? He asks him how old he is?

Zora gets all dreamy and tells the kid that (doll) Zora was the son of a peasant, just like him, but he wasn't impressed by nobles or royalty because deep down he knew there was something he could do that they couldn't. Kid was intrigued wondering what Zora would have that rich people didn't have. Zora replied he wondered what that could be? If the kid wanted to be a magic knight someday, he'd better figure it out.

Zora is asleep in a tree late afternoon, presumably after a day of really getting some hard core training in. Since his magic deals with complex traps, he probably has to sit around doing deep thinking 90% of the time, and only 10% of the time is execution.

The kid is out practicing magic nearby when the visiting nobles attack him, this time armed with a powerful magic item. Luckily, Zora was able to step in to assist with his Uno Reverse Card Trap before the kid is incinerated. He sends the fire back, but only in a harmless way that gives the kids a scare. They drop the magic item, and the kid picks it up.

Kid comes back with his dad who accuses them of stealing the magic item. They attack with fire power, but the other dad surprises them with strong water magic. The accuser threatens to call the magic knights. That's when Zora shows up in his usual costume of tiddies out and pants cut so low one can practically see the top of his junk.

Zora talks about how he witnessed the whole thing earlier, and the son was the one who stole the magic item looking for a fight. He tells the guy he's a shitty father and doesn't deserve the magic item. The two guys run off humiliated, probably because they thought they were showed up not only by a commoner, but a commoner who is also a male prostitute who services clients with a magic knight fetish.

The kid and dad relate how they took the magic knights exam several times and failed, but they knew that their hero Zara also tried and failed several times. That inspired them to not give up. The kid seems to come to the realization who Zora really is, even though he doesn't say it out loud. He says he believes he knows what Zora the Supermage has that the nobility doesn't, and he also doesn't say out loud what it is. Then he apologizes to his dad for saying bad things about their family.

As Zora leaves, the kid thanks him and says he must really be Zora the Supermage. Zora replies that he's just trying to be a good mage, and then he encourages him to keep trying and leaves with a stink bug prank with the worst hrrderking look on his face.

On the way out, Zora says something interesting. He thinks about Yuno and Asta and how they always make the assertion they are going to become the next Wizard King. He says out loud, "The only reason those two can say that all the time is because they truly believe they can do it. You just wait and see, Dad. I'll make it to that zero stage everybody's been talking about lately, and I'll start by whipping my sorry squad mates into shape."

I was like, "AHAHAHAHA!!!! You'd better deliver, Mr. Background Character!"

Level zero is like Wizard King level ability in that world, -like Julius Novachrono who can control time is probably that level- although I don't think Zora is the type who'd want to be the actual Wizard King. He has the attitude like being a magic knight is more than the costume and recognition. Maybe he'd want to be the first commoner who'd reach that level of ability? Add to that, but Zora is probably the weakest in the squad, like Julian said when he encountered Zara, his magic wasn't that strong, but he was able to execute it in complicated and well-thought-out ways. Zora probably takes after his dad in that way. He's not a 'push past your limits' type of guy like Asta. He's careful. He has to think things through and only act if he feels like he's 100% going to succeed.

[ponderingthenightaway]

[shiutsu]

Y'know I sometimes get disappointed by how things ended (& get violent flashbacks about them) but then I remember that I ended up as the only normal one from all those ppl.

[forgottenbones]

Why Is TALK TO ME So Disturbing?

[kharmii]

This is absolutely stunning in all the detail put into it.

PSPSPSPSPS NEW ANIMATIC GO WATCH

[evenlis]

Negative space. The absence of you, lent enough space for the presence of me.

- Evenlis

[kharmii]

(Getting this one out of the way before we find out definitively whether or not Dabi is still alive. The last manga chapter #425 hinted about it, then went on hiatus)

(A long ago memory where young Touya Todoroki is eager to have his father Enji #2 Endeavor see what he can do)

Touya: No! Don't leave! I'm stuck to you!!

Enji: No way. I've got something to do...an association meeting.

Touya: I also thought of a strategy!!

Leave it to me to exterminate the villains.

Dad please watch!

Enji: Really.

Enji: Then while I'm gone you protect mother and Fuyumi.

*Walks away but says upon leaving* I left it to you.

Enji (to unknown person): Keep an eye on them.

(Person): Yes.

Touya: See you then! Well then!!!!

Touya: Who am I? Dad's hero!?!

Enji: ...... ......Ahh.

Touya: Yay!! Take care!

※Notice

From now on, this is a dream-like, fabricated, creative manga about Dabi's dreaming of interactions with his child while he lies on his death bed. A happy ending centered around the parent-child relationship between Touya and his parents.

What Dabi had done could no longer be reconciled, and he wondered if it would be possible to start over as a parent and child without being able to return to his original family, and what if Dabi were to be in the same position as his father... Also a wish....a dream.

Children also talk. The child in this story is a genetically engineered baby made from the Team Violet co-commander's hair (Dabi and Geten) that the doctor made for fun in a manga I drew earlier and adjusted the plot to look like Dabi would hate it (that's the setting/creation).

There is a conflict of interest with Geten. I feel like I have a lot of compassion for what he's been through. The second half is a conversation between Geten and the child, and the story changes from Geten to Dabi.

Dabi: ...Terrible, I don't feel it.

Geten: (Speaking to Dabi who is presumably burnt to ash...deceased or nearly so lying in a bed covered in a white sheet.)

What did you say? It's "cold".

Geten: That kid is excellent. Is it natural since both genetic contributors are first class?

Your concerns were unfounded.

In another ten years, it will be out of my control...

Geten: Come. Looks like he's going out. We'll meet again someday.

(He's talking about Dabi's fire going out, an analogy for his soul leaving his body).

Child: Can you see it?

(I can't see anymore)

Child: I can hear it?

(I can't hear it anymore)

Geten: -Because I'm the kind of guy who doesn't watch or listen.

No big deal.

Geten: (Bottom panels) The feeling of touching. A hand.

I can tell because it seems to be understood. -So as not to break.

(The child is touching Dabi's hand, and suddenly they are allowed to communicate).

(Same memory from earlier, except played out between Dabi and his child)

Touya: No! Don't leave! I'm stuck to you!!

Enji: No way.

Child: I also thought of a strategy!! Leave it to me to defeat the heroes.

Dad please watch!

Enji: Really.

(Dabi says something cryptic only the child can understand)

Geten: *laughs heartily*

Child: See you then! Well then! Flip side!?!?

Touya: Who am I? Dad's hero!?!

Dabi: I'm going to get sludge..... (the last thing he said was garbled)

Child: Ha~~~~~!?!? I don't know! I won't make your father's dreams come true!!!! -AND- Geten! Translate it!

Geten: Haha, that's probably correct.

Child: Take care!

That?

Touya: Mother! Will today be a hot day?

Rei Todoroki: Ah, it's summer.

Touya: Mom, is that the way you talk? Well, that's fine.

Rei Todoroki: What's wrong?

Touya: Hmm? If you stay in the sun all the time. It stings and I don't like it. Looks like it's okay today.

...There are suns like this too.

It's fluffy and tight... ...Somehow it's really...

(While the child reaches out to the sunlight, caption says "Nostalgic". Viewer realizes the scene with Touya speaking with his mother Rei was a dream Dabi was having as he was dying, as were all the other memories of his father and such.)

Geten: ...Finally. You idiot. It was great. Did you notice I can do it...See? Already. It's neither hot nor cold, right?

Dabi: ……Yeah.

(Reference to how Geten was able to provide comfort and make him comfortable as he was burning away.)

Warmth.

Geten: (Thinking) This is all I have left... (of Dabi's ashes)

Geten: (Out loud) I'm troubled. Apparently more than I expected. It seems like there was a feeling.

Geten: I miss your blue flames.

Child: Geten. Geten. What I've discovered....please watch.

*foom*

Child: Like ice, I could change the temperature of the flames. It would be cooler if you could take it out of your hands like father did. Geten?

(My guess is that the child's quirk resembles Geten's ability. He can't make fire/ice from his own body, but he can manipulate both elements and control their temperatures. Judging by Geten's questioning, if the child did have a fire quirk coming out his hands, he'd have to suppress it to avoid Dabi's fate, as he's a genetic chimera made up of a patchwork of both Dabi and Geten's clones).

Geten: White hair is increasing (like Touya's did when he got a little older). Isn't it hot?

Child: If it's really hot, it'll fly far away.

Geten: What about this? Is it hot?

Child: Not at all.

Geten: It's okay to be cold.

Geten: He and I too were moved by it. It was life.

Child: ...Geten.

Geten: You can call me 'Dad' too.

Child: You said you wouldn't allow anything other than Geten.

Captions: Rejoice Dabi. In the past. Ahead of us. Don't walk away.

Art credit: hrak (yaoi), Apocrypha, Dabi / Twitterログ12【外荼】 - pixiv

[joitotheworldstuff]

Personal Stories: Finding Peace on Mother’s Day After Loss or No Contact

For many, Mother’s Day is a time of brunches, flowers, and warm embraces. But for others. Those who’ve lost their mother or live with estrangement. It’s a complicated, painful reminder of what’s missing. Whether you’re navigating grief, trauma, or simply silence, you’re not alone. Here are real, vulnerable stories from women who found ways to reclaim peace, honor themselves, and create new…

[ponderingthenightaway]

[mewhennooneisaround]

Fuck it … let’s feel even less… pop the pain away

[redwan999]

Flashback 2024 : Year of transformation

Flashback 2024 : Year of transformation

I can hardly believe that 2024 is almost over. I don’t know how the year flew by in a glimpse. So many things happened this year, and I honestly couldn’t keep up. Even in these last few hours of the year, I feel like there are still a couple more months to go. Maybe life is like this. We don’t realize how quickly our time in this world is ending, but we believe we have a lot more to spend. I…

[evenlis]

A day will come when I only exist in you. And you in me. We will be the only two people who remember what the other was like. Would be mourn the loss of the masses, or will we be each content knowing the other holds our memory dear?

- Evenlis

[kharmii]