☆ Timmytims ☆

Haaris' dad was busy.

─ ⊹ ⊱꒰ა🐛໒꒱⊰ ⊹ ─

Desc:

That's how it always has been. After all, Grian held the weight of the world on his shoulders, had the duty of making sure nobody's clock stopped ticking — was the Timekeeper. And the players had kids now, gifted by some external force. They couldn't have stuck to their old ways of violence; there had to be another way to get time...

The solution came in the gifts themselves.

Anything to keep people safe, right? It wasn't too hard to pay prices they could barely afford; what had to be done was done — with only a little sting — and everyone moved on.

Haaris moved on too. Why would he care about something that couldn't be helped? He had foundations: a best friend, a mentor, a family. Always something to fall back on, regardless of how occupied Grian was. Besides, he didn't want to finish that cookbook with his dad anyway; he preferred those empty pages, those stale shells that boundless memory could've occupied—

What Haaris did want to do was lie to himself.

Soften the blow. Pretend his semblance of a relationship didn't trickle away in an hourglass, pretend that the change he yearned for would come to him first. Pretend that, someday, his dad would come create the memories he'd missed.

Eleven years spent idle, but not just for him. Some of the players, resigned to peace, still couldn't get used to this decade-old autocracy. Couldn't get used to having ordinary jobs to feed into one ordinary man with extraordinary power. Clutched in Grian's palms was the right to time. And, in turn, the right to live.

But change came with the loss of each second.

And from the loss of each second always burst something new.

─ ⊹ ⊱꒰ა🐛໒꒱⊰ ⊹ ─

To summarise, it's a fic exploring the themes of time, change, and family set in the Limited Life season (as a Canon divergence). Each of the players were sent children by the watchers as a means of entertainment for them — Grian's relationship with his son being the most interesting of all.