#destiny week

Okay, so like, this conversation actually came about because we were talking about switch's parents and like. Tsumugi's mom (rightfully) gets a lot of flack for poor parenting but like, what about Natsume's mom. Natsume has gone on the record several times and openly stated how much he loves his mom but like, we feel like there's a lot of reasons to think that things are not as rosy as Natsume lets on.

Sometimes, you want your parents to be good so bad that you ignore the bad parts.

It's normal for traumatized people and children who have parent issues or have one good parent and one bad parent to pedestalize one parent over the other or ignore any of the flaws their parents have in an attempt to see them for who they want to see them as. If Natsume wants his mom to be someone amazing and wonderful that he looks up to, that's who he's going to construct his mom to be. "But maybe his mom is those things" you may ask. She very well may be! But when you look at Natsume's behavior, it's hard not to wonder where some of his tendencies come from. When you start to look at how his mom behaves and has treated him over the course of the series, I feel like more comes into view.

Natsume's parents held very high standards for him, as they do for themselves. Natsume's father has been described as a straight-shooting businessman. Anyone who's climbed in business knows the kind of ruthlessness and calculation it can sometimes take o be successful. Natsume's mom has been known to even sequester herself away for days at a time to focus on her own stuff. Don't those traits sound familar?

You gotta remember too that during Pleiades Night, Natsume didn't even get to go home because his mom was caught up in her own stuff. Natsume handwaves it away, but how are we supposed to believe that Natsume, one of the most codependent and needy people in all of enstars, would just be okay with something like this happening? His reaction here seems to imply to me that this isn't the first time something like this has happened. After all, why would it be?

Natsume's mom has pushed a lot onto her kid, testing Natsume on occasion and making him cross dress for a not insignificant amount of past.

And a certain point, it's hard to not look at all of this and just be like...what kind of parent does this? And again, this is not to say that Natsume has bad parents. But, in my mind, it feels like Natsume's parents were neglectful enough or withheld love enough for Natsume to want to strongly seek it out, even as an adult. We feel like Natsume must have had a lot of moments as a child when he was lonely or sad.

Maybe there were times where all he could do to really attract his parent's full attention is by doing the things that followed in their footsteps.

Maybe he felt like he had to meet their demands to obtain their love.

Maybe he treats Tsumugi and Sora the way he wishes he could treat his parents: genuinely and lovingly with his full range of emotions.

And today, maybe we have a Natsume Sakasaki that struggles with that legacy a bit.

He's a massive perfectionist with a God complex that struggles to let anyone see him falter. He is obsessed on two occasions with "reclaiming" his legacy controlling the way the public sees him, even if he says it's about the Five Eccentrics. He even built a VR headset and locked two of his closest friends in it for two whole weeks.

He feels like it's perfectly fine to self-isolate for days at a time and fail to take care of himself, even though he clearly gets easily upset when Tsumugi does the same.

He's not above "testing" his friends to help them, even if it involves lying and manipulation.

Looking at everything, it's hard to not feel like Natsume gets so much from his parents.

Bringing this back to Natsume and Tsumugi - it really feels like these two are hopelessly trying to fill the mom-shaped hole in each other.

Let's remember that in a lot of ways, Tsumugi is similar to Natsume. Like, his

particularity with money,

his self-destructive work ethic, and

his ruthlessness when it comes to doing things that result in receiving validation from others, especially from Natsume,

All feel like a trauma response from dealing with an absent mother. Like, remember Shinsekai or Element/Magicians Assemble? Tsumugi did so much of what he did because he thinks it will earn him the love or approval of others. In summary:

“There aren’t many reasons to celebrate, well, sure guardians take a shot, down a few, maybe even dance and sing, taking victories where we can get them. But not really truly celebrate. But one occasion, maybe two but mostly one, does the whole tower rejoice without asking what the next assignment is.”

cayde pauses before standing up, holding a small box, ghost says their cigars, he looks more smug than usual as he pats the fresh hunter on the shoulder and makes his way out.

He makes a beeline for zavala’s office, not bothering to knock. The man doesn’t jump, he simply glares at the exo before sighing annoyingly.

“can’t it wait cayde? im almost done,” he motions to a purple beanie he had been working on in what little spare time he had.

“nope, just got the call, it’s show time,” cayde’s eyes shone with amusement as he watched the stoic commander scramble for his things.

“then what are we waiting for? does ikora know?”

“already there.”

“shaxx?”

“was convinced that swords aren't proper gifts, i agree, knives are much better.”

he lifted his hands up before zavala could bite his head off about how inappropriate that comment was. “just kidding, come on, doubt they’ll wait for us.”

The commander nodded once, and the two vanguard were off, heading towards the hospital, Cayde reluctantly being the one to hold the ball of yarn as Zavala crotched the last of the beany. The ride there was long, agonizing for the exo, and titan had no care, looking at the time every now and then. Ever vigilant in his work, even as they walked up towards the entrance, and was directed to the proper floor. “Yeah, so, uh, we’re here to see a hunter, kinda,” Cayde makes a motion with his free hand, making a large bump over his stomach. The nurse nodded,and handed them both tags. “Names, she’s in the recovery room, down the hall to the left, last door on the right.” she answered before giving them both a warm smile, and then returning to her work. “Recovery room?” Zavala asked, finally looking up from his work. “Means we missed the main event,” Cayde sighed, but with a shrug he and the commander made it to the room, Ikora waiting outside the room door. “You’re both late,” she stated. “Well, the commander wasn’t really ready for em to show up, so, please tell me, did i win?” Cayde asked. Ikora only smiled as she turned into the room, “See for yourself.” Within the room stood several towering figures, and some not so large, a few had to squeeze into the back, two were sleeping, but all were guardians. The group moved to make room for the latecomers.

Eyes on the tired mother and the bundle in her arm. “I’m glad i made it purple,” zavala smirked as he placed the beanie on the child’s head. “Hope you brought more than one, zavala,” shaxx smirked, showing a second child. “And the last one here,” Another titan spoke up, holding the last of the babies.

Zavala stared between the three and sighed, knowing there was much more work he had to do. “They can share for now.” “And, they’re…” “Boy’s” the mother answered. “Well...i owe a lot of people, a lot of glimmer,” Cayde sighed. Tossing the ‘it’s a girl’ cigars into the trash.

That’s right I mean it looks like the Traveler (deep within my brain core its name is spoken in an old language I don’t understand, but he does and he calls it The Gardener and we are its Roses and that works for me) and it’s broken in all the right places, but like I said this one is full and bright like how the moon is supposed to be.

It hovers not over the City, but instead over the forests of a place I never bothered to visit myself. The Titan isn’t a Titan yet, just an Exo with a weight pressing against their chest and had they the lungs, they would be suffocating. Not a literal weight, mind you, but watching as the very thing that brought upon a Golden Age began its ascent towards its own salvation it was hard not to feel crushed.

I felt myself scream at it and I wanted desperately to feel my throat go raw to be sure the effort was heard, but I just kept going. I knew it didn’t care. If it did, it would stay. I guess I wanted to make sure it knew how angry I was and that’s understandable.

I would be angry too, but the Traveler blessed the wrong corpse so I feel nothing for it.

However, I know how this story is supposed to end because the Traveler never left and it’s dead over a City that I feel nothing for and as I stood there screaming, I wonder what stops it.

I think sometimes (something my Ghost says I should do more often) that those Warlocks that kill themselves to see visions would love me. I think they would beg me to tell them how I see these things. I can’t be for sure, but I get the idea that it started here.

It started with the sky breaking open and it ended with the Traveler crippled, carved open by an aurora blade that was dropped with a nonchalant twist of the wrist and the excuse that he was following orders.

That was a lie and I know it, but not because I know it, mind you, I just remember it. He thought about that day and I guess that was a good thing because no one else had the idea and he was made for that sort of stuff.

He carved the flesh of this being with such merciless force that you would think he was trying to kill it, not wound it. I stopped screaming and watched as chunks fell off and crashed into the forest below, smoking oozing like blood into an amber sky. Electricity crackled in the air and I could feel it against my metal skin as if it were replacing the smell of iron that one would expect from such a gruesome attack. It was a brutal display of power. He was an usurper twisting the blade in the gut of the king and whispering in his ear I knew you so well. He was an angry preacher that stripped away the holiness of his God with damnable words.

Go ahead and laugh a little. He really was a mad priest.

At any rate, if there was time to fully absorb what had happened, it was robbed from me with a blinding white light and I knew in that moment I was dead. It passed over the forest in a burst and as I watched it come towards me, I spat at the Traveler for the first time.

And then there was nothing.

Nothing but this broken plaster moon as it dangles from a thin strand of wire in a creaky building on a coast with no name because everyone has forgotten. I’m sure I could remember, if I had the right memory, but I don’t seek these things out.