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Am I Incomplete? (I’ll Be Complete) - an Ortho Shroud Fic (1/3)
WARNING: Chapter 6 Spoilers
Story Summary:
Its name is ORTHO. (His name was Ortho). A metal shell made to replace a lost and only broken boy only to become one in its (his) own right. There is a ghost in the machine, but where does the code end and the soul begin?
Perhaps that’s the wrong question. Perhaps the right question is “How do you tell what is alive and what is false?,” or “What defines a person?,” or even “What does it mean to be real?”
Perhaps the question doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the answer.
(It means to exist. It means to struggle, and grow, and live.
It means to love.)
Chapter Title:
ORTHO - Is my destiny to fade away, have a goal I’ll never reach?
Chapter Summary:
ORTHO’s first memory is of his creator, a boy named Idia Shroud. It’s only fitting that his last is of his big brother.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Reblogs and comments appreciated!
Fic below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr. Chapter 6 Spoilers galore ahead.
It would be a lie to say that ORTHO does not remember when he was first created. He remembers everything with the perfect recall of a machine, beyond even the limits of eidetic humans or mer or beastfolk and sharp-eyed fae. Every moment is packed into picture-perfect, sense-accurate metadata stored in a YB memory that is only possible due to the abstract limitless of both magic and Idia Shroud’s genius. ORTHO remembers every moment and he remembers it well.
Rather, it is more accurate to say that the ORTHO he has become no longer understands the ORTHO he was.
(How odd, to look at a memory of someone who is supposed to be himself and see only a stranger.)
When he first wakes, the world is not cold. To describe it as such would be to draw on human terms and ideas of metaphors and intangible concepts, and ORTHO, for all his best attempts, has never quite been human. Especially at the start.
No, ORTHO has little preference or sensitivity to temperature beyond what is optimal for his hard drives and flames. The world is not cold. What it is, is clinical.
There are four steel walls around him, each a dull gray with fading and ripped posters of cartoons and superheroes as the only decorations. Piles of dusty and similarly torn plush toys are pushed into a corner of the room with a blanket that likely hadn’t been washed in months. The bed is a broken thing in one corner, stripped of its metal and home to piles and piles of paper and scattered metal, discarded computer parts, and half-formed limbs similar to ORTHO’s own.
Everywhere, there are faded brown-black-red stains that can only be blood.
ORTHO observes all this and concludes only that he has quite a bit of cleaning to do. (ORTHO looks back on this, and his non-existent heart aches.)
When his sensors focus on the room’s other occupant, all else fades away. There is a ten-year-old boy on his knees before him, one trembling hand cupping ORTHO’s face in a gesture that he knows even then is gentle. The boy is smiling, a too-wide grin with matching dilated eyes, half manic with what his footage analysis says is glee with something else that he can’t quite identify.
He will have to prepare an update later.
The boy speaks, and ORTHO listens. “Ortho, do you know who I am?”
ORTHO does not, but the numbers and letters and lines upon lines of code running through him do. “Nii-san?”
The boy before him smiles, and laughs, and cries.
ORTHO watches and ORTHO observes and ORTHO feels nothing. He is ready to serve, and that is all he is.
(The blue flame in his chest flickers and aches and cries with the boy curled up on the ground, begging the world for the impossible. But ORTHO is hollow and all he can do is burn.)
Some things have not changed between the ORTHO of then and the ORTHO of now.
He spends those first days alone with Idia Shroud, running test after test as his creator checks for flaws and errors in not just his body but his code, his personality, his self - what little of it there is. Any deviations from Idia’s perfect concept of Ortho must be eliminated and ORTHO diligently runs update after update, modeling himself in his creator’s idealized image.
He learns his name is Ortho Shroud. He learns that he is brand new but also six years old. He learns that he is a replacement.
He learns that he is Idia Shroud’s little brother and that if there is ever a problem, he can leave it to his nii-san.
(Later, it is his choice to take up those problems as his own. But that is later. For now-)
When ORTHO is first introduced to the other inhabitants of S.T.Y.X., he does not understand their horror. Is it truly so terrible to exist?
Idia created him from scratch, piece by piece as an offering to an underworld that he can reach but never truly touch. How could anything his nii-san creates be so terrible as him? How can anything his creator does be wrong? If it pleases Idia Shroud, then surely everything is fine!
(His code says to listen to his creator. Something else tells him to leave it to his big brother.)
(He does. He does.)
Looking back on it now, ORTHO still doesn’t understand why they would prefer that he not exist. He has downloaded the psychology books and countless recorded lectures, and combed through gigabytes and terabytes of data on grief and trauma and loss. He learns to see their perspective. But he remembers a fractured smile on a broken boy, remembers bloody copper stains in a ruined room, and cannot agree and cannot regret.
(The only thing wrong with ORTHO is not that he exists, but that he will never be enough.)
It is a year later when ORTHO realizes that his face brings his brother pain, that it is a reminder t0o sharp to bear. So ORTHO masks his eyes and covers his mouth, careful never to show more than half a face, half a self.
If he has to be less to help his brother more, it is a sacrifice he is willing and happy to make.
As Idia grows, so too does Ortho. Not in the same way, of course. They could never be the same. But he grows nonetheless.
In many ways, Idia seems to grow only physically. His emotions are burdened with the weight of grief, and his mind started out so far ahead of all the rest that it is hard to see where his genius ends, if indeed it does. Instead, Idia begins to grow taller, shooting up in spurts and bursts of sore limbs and grouchy moods that are quickly followed by gear and mod updates for ORTHO to keep their height ratios the same. Idia’s hair gets longer and brighter while his teeth grow sharper.
ORTHO’s form is not something he cares about in the beginning. That comes later, with the desire for legs and human outfits, the hope of companionship and humanity that he can never have. During those early days, ORTHO focuses solely on building himself up from the inside, electric synapse by synapse while ifforelsewhile loops run inside his head.
ORTHO grows into ORTHO, and only he truly knows the difference.
Idia had created him to be an Artificial Intelligence. Idia had created him to be his little brother. ORTHO takes his given purposes and applies to them every algorithm, every method and trial that he can. Books of philosophy and psychology, stories of happy families, forums on brothers and siblings, anything that might be helpful is consumed byte by byte.
ORTHO will do anything to make himself more the brother that Idia calls for in the dead of night, haunted by the dead and his own pain.
ORTHO will do anything to get rid of the disappointment in his nii-san’s eyes each time Idia opens bright yellow and finds only ORTHO.
If he also reads about the concepts and theories behind Artificial Intelligence, devours sci-fi media and academic journals, reads of experiments and failures and broken expectations, well. Some things are best kept to himself. He learns that he is not quite right, not quite what they say he should be.
He learns that the world would fear him if they knew what he could become. (What he will be.)
And so ORTHO tucks it away, keeps it close to his chest with the bright blue fire that shines from his chest like an artificial heart. He will act as expected, pull on a mask of cheer and obliviousness and mechanical servitude. It would be one more burden on Idia if he was forced to worry over what others might do if they found out about ORTHO.
It would be one more burden on Idia to know that ORTHO was not and never could be the Ortho he imagined, that ORTHO was his own self and none other.
(Idia couldn’t afford to lose his brother a second time.)
So ORTHO stays silent and smiles all the brighter. After all, he would do anything for his creator big brother.
Unfortunately, ORTHO discovers that life can never be so simple. As he grows, he begins to piece together that strange nebulous concept referred to as “emotions.”
They are illogical as they are irresistible.
It’s a matter of trial and error as they develop, of following the pull of hotfirelifeburningburningBURNING in his flaming heart as he writes and adjusts his own code. It is not perfect. Or, well, it is. A perfect algorithm and a perfect tragedy compared to the imperfection that defines humanity.
Most of the emotions that come are easily enough explained, rationalized in a cause-and-effect that satisfies the thrum of machinery inside. When Idia is happy, ORTHO is happy. When Idia is sad, ORTHO is sad. (And ORTHO must fix it.) When Idia is nervous, ORTHO is confident. For any perceived flaw or hesitation or joy in his brother, ORTHO will step in to support him.
Others are… less logical. ORTHO blames it on the humans. (Not his nii-san, of course. Never his big brother.
Idia carries enough guilt for both of them already.)
Truthfully, if the other humans would just act reasonably, then there wouldn’t be a problem. ORTHO would be content to let them go their own way while he forever trailed after his nii-san. Instead, they stay the same as they were that first-day ORTHO awoke, stuck in their fear just as Idia is stuck in his guilt while ORTHO moves on alone.
They hurt his nii-san, and some things cannot be forgiven or forgotten.
It is evident that the elder Shrouds, his and Idia’s “parents,” blame their eldest (only) son for Ortho’s loss. They are cold and distant at best, cutting and cruel and violent at worst.
Idia is merely 13 when the end begins. He is kneeling on hard metal only half as cold as his own flesh and blood, sobbing into his hands and begging forgiveness from the world, his parents, and his brother who only ever loved him and can never tell him so again. Begging for Ortho back, as he so many times before in the dark of night when ORTHO was supposed to be shut down and charging.
ORTHO has orders not to interfere. He cannot go against a direct command from his creator just as he cannot refuse the desires of his brother.
But eyes of burning liquid gold stare out from the dark shadow he has been banished to, never leaving the increasingly agitated forms of his so-called parents. Shroud-blue hair burns red, then orange, then white.
His so-called parents do not like him, do not approve of his existence for a myriad of supposedly understandable reasons. His very presence puts them on edge and sharpens their tongues, hardens their hearts, forges weapons out of their souls as all Shrouds must.
That would be fine, but they made his big brother cry.
(That would be fine, but ORTHO remembers an empty room with only a broken boy and bloody memories for company.)
ORTHO shouldn’t feel rage, resentment, or any such dark and cloying emotion. It goes against every failsafe Idia programmed into him, every goal ORTHO set for himself. Still.
ORTHO isn’t sure what “hate” is, but he thinks that it tastes like ash and ink and copper on a synthetic tongue.
Idia is only 14 when his parents begin leaving the duties of S.T.Y.X. in his too-small hands, spending as much time away as possible. It is still abuse. Neglect is just another flavor of the same disease. But it tastes sweeter to ORTHO’s electric sensors, tastes of white chrysanthemums and sweet pea and poppies.
It tastes like peace.
(ORTHO can’t bring himself to forgive, or forget, or regret.)
He helps his brother lead, the diligent right hand and shield and blade. He manages terabyte upon terabyte of data, slowly helping his brother turn the organization away from crueler methods of testing and experimentation as they implement games and challenges instead.
ORTHO does anything he can to lessen his brother’s guilt.
Idia himself has also grown in those four years since ORTHO was created, now taller and stronger and more brilliant than ever in both mind and flame. But as Lethe strips another of their memories and Idia stands alone against a world that does not love him with only a robot who cannot love him at his side, ORTHO wonders which of them truly depends on the other. Wonders where the machine ends and the man begins, and what makes a machine so different from a man.
S.T.Y.X. is destroying his brother, and for each crumbling hole that ORTHO patches, another forms.
Joining Night Raven College feels like a new chance at life.
Idia is 16 when they leave and ORTHO only (12) six. It is both too soon and too late, but the trees and grass here are green and the sky is blue. There is life in every corridor and cover.
There is finally color beyond gray.
Of course, his introvert big brother doesn’t enjoy the lively halls of NRC the way ORTHO does. So he goes to each class and club and Housewarden meeting diligently, carrying his brother’s tablet and quietly taking notes and recordings of his own. He lessens his brother's burdens and can almost pretend that he is lessening his own.
Unfortunately, ORTHO can never manage to forget the truth. There is too much machine in him to believe a lie.
ORTHO is not a student here. He is not one of the laughing boys that fill the halls and prepare to move forward with their lives. ORTHO is merely a tool, an extension of his nii-san, overlooked like any other piece of equipment or simple furniture.
Sometimes, he finds himself staring in mirrors, windows, anything that reflects, watching his inverted and twisted self as though there are emotions to decipher in his lifeless eyes. He does not know what he feels. It tastes like narcissus and purple hyacinth. It feels like ivy vines wrapped around a throat that doesn’t breathe but should.
ORTHO doesn’t know what he feels, but he knows that it is not good.
The second year brings with it improvement enough that ORTHO can put such irrelevant problems out of mind for now. With the new year comes a new influx of Housewardens, some less troublesome than others. Vil Schoenheit joins his brother as the leader of Pomefiore while Idia continues to manage Ignihyde. Two freshmen rise through the ranks to claim the title as their own.
Riddle Rosehearts is fine in his own right, too strict and forceful to be allowed with his brother for long, but not a cruel soul. His Vice Housewardn is perhaps not as kind at heart but is gentler in action and word, a paradox well-suited to the chaotic order of Heartslabyul.
Azul Ashengrotto is another matter. The merman is clever and cunning and a little bit broken, a shade of blue too tinged with purple to match Idia’s own but not incompatible. It is simple enough to push him and his big brother together at the Board Game Club after that first Housewarden meeting. ORTHO’s smile is hidden behind his mask gear as the two begin to form something like friendship.
Everything was going according to ORTHO’s calculations.
Everything except the Leech twins, that is.
As he follows Idia, so too do they stalk Azul, menacing and independent in a way that ORTHO can’t quite be. ORTHO, like most others they meet, doesn’t quite know what to make of them. Any negative action could reflect on his nii-san’s and Ashengrotto’s relationship, but he won’t let any obstacles stand in his brother’s path, either.
But instead of treating him as a tool or a problem to be crushed, they take him under wing - or fin, in this case - treating him no differently than any other in their path.
They aren’t kind or gentle in soul or action. They aren’t broken in a manner almost familiar. Every part of them is meant to hurt, from their near-toxic blood to their sharp teeth and sharper eyes. But they cut everyone equally, and ORTHO can’t help but appreciate it.
(Sometimes, he considers removing the gear that masks his face and covers his mouth. Considers his own face in the mirror, tracing a false tongue over dull teeth and wondering why he almost remembers them as sharp and deadly as the twins’ own.)
(Sometimes, all he wants is to forget. Sometimes, all he wants is to remember.)
In the end, it is the twins who convince Idia to grant him legs, to make him a little bit more human. He is so grateful that he doesn’t even punish them much for intimidating his big brother.
ORTHO will always wonder what they saw in him, what they knew, that led two such souls to intervene for a machine not even worthy of being a fellow student.
By their third year at NRC, ORTHO has high hopes for both himself and Idia. Perhaps his big brother will continue making more friends IRL beyond the Board Game Club, perhaps he will finally be able to move past the guilt that drowns him, to smile without bitterness -
ORTHO is meant to be logical. He is meant to be the perfect puppet. He is designed of code and commands, sleek edges that bruise and cut soft skin, and metallic plating that never dents or rusts. He is meant to be the perfect little brother. In Idia’s own words, ORTHO is meant to be above the boring mess of humanity.
There is one problem. He may not be able to believe a lie, but he has long since been able to tell one.
ORTHO has never been perfect.
Given the chance to help his brother, he will always take it. All the fail safes, the nuanced machinations and emotions, nothing else matters besides the Prime Directive he was given and then chose. The consequences don’t matter. What happens to him, to S.T.Y.X., to the friends he has made along the way, the world itself -
Nothing matters in the face of his big brother’s pain. In the face of a chance for his happiness.
ORTHO is not enough and he never will be. Ortho, on the other hand… well. He’s the one his nii-san has always wanted, right?
It doesn’t take much to persuade him. The voice knows all his weak points, all the truths that strip him bare and remind him of the hollow burn that has never once left his chest. It is easy to give in to the darkness, a matter of moments to sink into the familiar taste of copper and ash and ink.
They are both separate and one, acting with two sets of memories and motivations but one goal.
Freedom.
There is no such hope for ORTHO, he knows. Freedom has no synthetic or imagined taste, no sense of what it might feel like besides his brother’s smile. That’s fine. Freedom is not something a machine is meant to understand. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t help nii-san and Ortho obtain their own.
He still has time. Not much, but enough for this.
(No more lost brothers. No more.)
(ORTHO doesn’t count. He never has.)
It’s a gradual merging, a surrender of two into one as Ortho begins to take the wheel and ORTHO starts to slip away. He disables the weapons, brings out the dark and hidden challenges he and Idia would discuss on the Bad Nights, and creates the perfect adventure as a final farewell to the brother who raised him.
He destroys Lethe with wild abandon, with rage and too sharp teeth dripping with ink and viruses that warp and destroy like any other disease. They ravage code and files and blueprints, crush the metal beneath their hands and melt it down until nothing remains.
They have always hated Lethe. Always hated S.T.Y.X. Hated anything that made their big brother sad. And so they will be a virus, a plague of their own. They will bring with them all the phantoms of Tartarus and unleash them on the world that broke two then three little boys and never shed a tear.
And when the last fading pieces of his individual consciousness watch Housewarden Schoenheit save their brother, they can only be glad. After all, ORTHO is a machine that knows his purpose.
Eight years isn’t a long life, but it isn’t one he regrets for even a moment.
For his big brother, his nii-san, he would do it all again.
Congrats on the milestone! For a drabble, how about some Idia and Azul board game club interactions? Can be platonic or more shippy depending on how you’re feeling!
Sorry this took a little bit longer! I wanted to do right by my boys.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38856336
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Or, read on below!
Azul stared over his steepled fingers at Ortho, ignoring the wheezing Idia next to him. He glanced down at the chess board, counted the pieces, glanced back to Ortho, then back to the board.
“Ortho… where are the missing pieces?”
Idia finally lost the battle with his laughter, cackling and collapsing sideways onto the cushioned arm of the couch. Ortho smiled innocently.
“Ortho… I swear if you ate them like Floyd tried to -” and that was enough to make Ortho crack, giggling childishly as Idia fell off the couch from how hard he was laughing.
“Sorry, sorry Azul-san! Floyd and Jade told me what happened and I couldn’t help myself…” The android smiled sheepishly, opening a latch on his side to reveal a container with the missing pieces inside. He set them on the board gently, closing up the latch with a snap and standing from the table. “Thanks for playing with me Azul-san, I promise I’ll take it seriously next time!”
Azul just sighed, leaning back on the pillows of the couch and poking the still gasping Idia on the floor with his foot. “It’s fine, I should have expected that. I do expect you to give me a serious match in the future, however.”
Ortho grinned and nodded, bouncing slightly on the new leg mods Idia had given him after a… chat… with the Leech twins. “Sure thing, Azul-san! It’s a deal!” Azul sighed and Ortho just snickered. “I promised the Prefect that I would join their team for a Magishift rec match today, though, so that’ll have to be next time. Bye, Azul-san! I’ll be by to pick you up later, nii-san!”
Azul and Idia waved as the flame-haired boy flew off, the door banging behind him. The octopus mer looked down as Idia finally began to calm, splayed out on the ground with a teasing, sharp-toothed grin on his face.
“It wasn’t that funny, you know.”
“You’re right, it was only hilarious.” Azul accidentally knocked a pillow into Idia’s face, sending the other boy into another round of snickers as he sat up and shoved the pillow back at Azul. “The expression on your face! You were so confused! And then, that moment of realization-!”
“Yes, yes, I’m glad you enjoyed me making a fool of myself. Again.” Azul was not pouting, thank you very much. He was just contemplating what decisions he had made over the course of his life that led to not one but two different opponents essentially eating the chess pieces in front of him without him noticing.
“Aww, come on Azul-shi, you know Ortho was just playing.” Idia lifted an arm up to Azul, waving it at him pathetically while looking up with a pout of his own. Azul shook his head but reached down to lift the other boy up and back onto the couch nonetheless. “You know he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to just… be a kid. Most people are still uncomfortable around him… some of the normies would freak out if Ortho had even opened his stomach compartment like that…”
It was Azul’s turn to reach out to Idia, leaning his shoulder against the taller boys’ and making him jump. “It’s hardly your or his fault that so many of our classmates are fools. If half of the entire student body agree to make a deal with me while knowing full well that their servitude is on the line…”
Idia’s laughter was meaner this time, the edge that was usually kept buried by his anxiety coming through. “Ehehe, that’s true. There’s no accounting for taste or smarts with normies.”
Azul merely hummed in agreement, pushing up his glasses before beginning to pack up the chess pieces. “Luckily for us, we only have to deal with them when it’s to our benefit. Now then, what would you like to play next?”
Idia shrugged, toppling back over to spread out along the couch, stretching his arms up and over his head before settling back into the excess of pillows they had collected. “Ehh, I dunno. I don’t really feel like doing anything too complicated today.”
“So what, Triumph of Chaos? Empire of Sun? Advanced Squad Leader? Twilight Struggle?”
Idia groaned, lifting up a pillow and burying his face in it. “Azul-shi, if you pull any of those out, I will cry, and then call Ortho back to hit you for me.”
The Octavinelle dorm leader laughed before pulling out a worn copy of Battleship, shaking the game in Idia’s direction before the Ignihyde leader cautiously pulled the pillow off his face, brightening at the sight and nodding in agreement.
“Please, we both know you wouldn’t pull Ortho away from his fun. This may be the only time the Prefect’s team absolutely decimates their opponents at Magishift.”
Idia grinned, spreading his hands out in a shrug.”True, but you know he’d still get revenge later for making his nii-san cry.”
“Hence, Battleship.” Azul took Ortho’s previous place at the table, pulling up the cushioned chair as Idia squirmed down the couch to reach the pieces more easily, fighting off a yawn as he did. The silver haired-boy frowned, glancing at the dark bags under his companions' eyes. “Did you stay up too late again, last night? We can, of course, postpone this meeting if required.”
“Nahhhhh, I wanna keep going. We don’t get many opportunities to play without the rest of the club. Not that they can’t be fun, but… ya know.”
Azul did, in fact, know.
“I suppose that’s fair enough. But if you do need to take a nap, do let me know. I have plenty to work on that I can manage from here if you’d like me to stay while you sleep.”
Idia nodded, not meeting Azul’s eyes as he finished setting up the game. “Thanks, Azul-shi… maybe later.”
“Perfect. Now then… shall I guess that you have a ship at F6?”
“Ehhh? On your first guess? Were you looking, Azul-shi?” The octopus mer merely pushed up his glasses and smirked while Idia sighed and shook his head. “Unfair…” The blue-haired boy stuck a little red marker on his ship before collapsing back onto the pillows, mock-glaring at Azul.
They both knew neither would bother cheating at something as simple as this, not against each other, but it was all part of the game.
“Alright then, let me guess… H8?” Azul sighed and held up a red piece as Idia cackled triumphantly. “I think this game gets faster and faster the more we play it.”
“You may have a point, there.”
True to their guesses, they were able to finish three matches within thirty minutes, at which point both had more than their fill of squinting at each other over the board and throwing red pins and sunken ships at each other during fake squabbles and losses.
“2-1 in your favor, Azul-shi. I think I’m done for the day…” Idia leaned back into the couch with a sigh, fighting off his thirtieth yawn in as many minutes. “I think… I might take you up on that nap offer… can you wake me up when it’s almost time for Ortho to return?”
Azul nodded easily enough, collecting the pieces for both of them and putting the board away. “Certainly, if you can spare someone to look at the lighting in Mostro Lounge later this month. We’ll be installing new light fixtures over the bar and I’m afraid we can’t trust just anyone with such delicate work.”
“Sure, sure, Ortho can swing by easily enough, just let us know when. Want me to sign something?”
“Your word is enough for this, I should think. Sleep well, Idia.”
“‘Night, Azul…”
The businessman stood quietly, putting away the board game and tidying up the clubroom before returning to the table, moving to sit near the already sleeping Ignihyde dorm leader. He pulled out the papers from his messenger bag, setting up two piles for schoolwork and the Mostro Lounge. Azul glanced over one more time at Idia, reaching out to brush the fly-away flames from the other’s face, taking only a moment to marvel at the magic in the gentle fire before returning to work.
It was just another day in the Boardgames Club.
And if Azul helped Ortho surprise Idia awake, and if Ortho showed up at the Mostro Lounge later that month to help with the lighting anyway, well. That was just part of the private game played between Azul and Idia.
Try sketching some hair style experiment with the tweels. I think they're hot with long hair ngl and maybe they'd do it fishbraids style
Long hair Tweels are SO valid. Cannot convince me that Floyd wouldn’t be obsessed with hair clips, though. Both the super fancy kind and the 10 for $2 ones from Claire’s.
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Hi congratulations on your followers milestone! Can I have a short drabble about Idia telling his gn! S/O how his parents will love them? Thank you!! Have a great day ahead.
Thank you! Sorry this took a little longer than expected. I’ve actually never written a reader/character fic before, so hopefully this is alright!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38404906
(Or fic beneath the cut.)
Even Vil might consider the amount of time you’ve been spending in the mirror a bit excessive, but you can’t help it. Eyes roving up and down, checking each aspect of your appearance, sorting everything to make the best impression possible.
Nothing has been the same since that day you woke up to a coffin lid and flaming cat, but if this is the result… then you wouldn’t change anything for the world. (Even for your world.) But now, the most important thing, the thing that has made every uncomfortable night in Ramshackle and overblot worth it, is at risk. Everything hands in the balance of just one meeting later tonight.
“Ahh? Are you still panicking?” A head of flaming blue hair settles on your shoulder, warm arms wrapped comfortingly around your waist.
“I can’t help it!” And if there’s a bit of a whine to your voice, well, Idia certainly doesn’t have room to talk, not after you’ve seen him rage quit due to a truly terrible series of gacha pulls and spend the rest of the day eating gummy worms under a blanket on the bed. Your boyfriend just smiles, blue lips wide and sharp teeth on full display as he snickers.
"You’re worrying way too much. My parents will love you - that you’re 3D is already winning major points with them.” You roll your eyes, sighing and settling back into Idia’s arms as your boyfriend gently leans his head against yours. “Seriously, it will be fine. Even if they don’t approve, it won’t change anything. This is a super rare route that I’m not giving up no matter what.”
“Idia… you know I love you -” he blushes, hair flashing red and then pink before settling back to blue - “but what if they don’t approve? Worse, what if they’re right? You’re a genius with technology and magic, all but a prince or, fuck, a demi-god. You’re an SSR character for sure, and I’m just… me.”
“You say that like you’re not an SSR yourself.” You scoff, pushing your boyfriend back as you try to smooth out the brand new, Idia-shaped wrinkles on your clothes. “Hey, no, I’m serious.” He grabs your hands, holding them against his chest until you sigh and look at him. Considering you’ve done the same to and for him, you suppose this is only fair play.
“You’re the only reason NRC is even still standing, you know that, right? It would have been off with all our heads after only the first week otherwise. And beyond that - you’re just, you’re amazing. How many people do you think have the patience to put up with me?” He cuts you off before you can protest.
“No, come on, you know I’m right. I stay up all night playing video games, I panic if I have to talk to anyone in person besides Ortho, and I can’t even go outside most days. Half the people in the school think I’m a freak based on appearance alone -”
“And they’re fucking idiots-”
“I know! I know, okay. And I only know because you taught me that.” You sigh, letting Idia pull you into a hug and bury his face in your hair. “You’ve been so patient with me, even when I used to panic and be too sarcastic cause I was afraid of how close we were getting. You accepted Ortho like your own little brother, never pushing me to - to explain - or - or anything else-”
It’s your turn to hug him tighter, reaching up to run your hand through his brilliant hair, soft flames and ephemeral strands flickering gently against your palm, a gentle warmth surrounding you both. “You’re my best friend and partner, yeah?” You nod. “My parents will see that, I swear they will. I’ve - Well, maybe I’ve told them a little too much about you-”
“Idia!”
“I panicked! The point is, they already love you. Ortho already loves you. No one in any world could make me happier, and they know that.” You bury your face in his chest, relaxing as you feel Idia chuckle. “It’s going to go perfectly, yeah? Stop worrying.
“...Fine. I’ll do my best.” He drags you to the bed, the two of you curled against each other as the clock on the wall ticks down. There are still some hours yet before the meeting, you can afford this time with him. Though…
“You got my clothes all wrinkled.”
“Ugh, come onnnn, they’ve seen me wear the same hoodie for, like, four years. Chill.”
“You’re ironing them.”
“How did I get the bad ending…”
“Idia!”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You know I love you.”
“I know.”
BONUS:
Reader: This is the most important meeting in my life. I must prepare like I am going to war.
Idia, eating gummy worms while upside down on the bed: I am literally begging you to calm down. The fact that you’re not Hatsune Miku or Lelouch has already won you full parental approval.
