Work Text:
You. You are nothing, but at least you are. A tiny, tiny thing in the midst of the vastness of everything, but you are.
A nothing connected to the web of everything as flyaway strands touch and echo and live and breathe in your head, as baby spider thoughts find their way to you on the wind, and you can’t turn that part off. But that is how you know you Are. There are strings and strands in a cocoon around you and it gives you shape because if you are connected then you are There. You don’t… necessarily matter, tiny thing that you are. But you are there and you Know Things. Not like Truth, that’s not you that’s not your job but -
Hm. There it is again.
There… what isn̶̫̿'̷̤̒t̷̲̀…?
Ì̶̡̯͓̰͕̘͕̲̭T̶̢̛̠̼͕͎͙̣̻̫̞͎̜̭̙͈͖̀ͅ ̸͙̼͌̎̆̒̀́͘͝İ̷̛̗͉͔̭̪̙̙̼̩͎̍̌̈̅̆̄̅̈́͂͗͋̇̚͝S̷̛̺͛͋̄̍̌̎̅̉́̈́̀̈́͌͐̈́͊͘ ̷̛̮̲̜̦͎̓̉͑̈́̏̓̃̾͂̿̄̾̋ͅN̴̙͘Ö̴̧̤̣̟̰̥̐̊̏̓͝T̴̙͔͙̭̩̹̤̹̬͙̠͈̘͉̈́̈͛̂̑̿̑͋̐̏͋͋̆͗̈́̇̅̚H̴̨̡͕̳̭̮̪̥̠͍̮̘̥͒̓͂͐́̄͝͠ͅͅͅĨ̷̡̨̹̠͓̝̩̮̤̰̪̯̰͓͚͔͔͛͜͠N̴̫̮̠̯͉̅̂̊̑͛̉̚Ğ̷̛͕̠̱͛͗́͋̏̓͊̌̃̃
You are nothing, but you Are
Something.
It’s something.
It’s the something plaguing you lately because you shoulds̷̟̕ḩ̷̄ȯ̵̖u̵̳̓l̵̯ḍ̷̂n̴͍͋’̴̗͗t̷͔̿ Know because you Know Things but most of all you Know Yourself because you. You are tiny but your tininess is embodied in the Spider, in the WEAVER and your domain is the mind of others but especially your own,
And there. Are h̶̳͕̓̏͒̓o̵̢̢̨̩̝̦͈͌̏̏̅̎̈͝ͅl̶̟̩̝̂̾̋͒̿̆̅̋̆̊ę̷͎̓̃̎͆͛͂̍̇̾͘͝s̷̗͎̹̖̼͇̪͋͋̓̿̿̈́̄̈́͒͗͗. In your w e b .
They started small and stay that way they were two feet tall, high fives aimed to nowhere, staring into space somewhere that isn’t, there is a door in the main hall and you cannot see it but still you TRY and, and, and, and,
And you are speaking to Honoka and you feel like you should ask after someone’s health but that doesn’t make any sense because because because between the two of you you see your friends most often because she is wrangling…
wrangling…
problem cases
“Merlin? I’ve lost you, is there anything wrong? That’s some strong confusion.”
“Do you mind if I weave?” There is POWER biting back between your teeth and behind them but it is Not Yet Strands outside of your own mind,
“Of course not.” She says. This must be progress, in her mind,
In her mind,
You dive.
And you find.
or. you don't.
THERE ARE HOLES HERE TOO
They are the same shape,
“Merlin… what?”
You barely answer, implant a thought, implant,
When you line up the thoughts by the holes there is,
SOMETHING
not there but it is there but it is not because it Cannot Be because it,
they,
aren’t?
“We’re missing something.” someone.
“…Someone. It’s - that’s - the shape of a person.”
You. You are. But there is a Nothing inside you, the holes, if you look into them for too long you might fall in and slip and then what you Are will be What You Will Not Be, and,
There is a hole in your room. Physical. There is something there that isn’t but is and it is fuzzy and you cannot touch it.
But Honoka Can.
She hands it to you and it is as silken as you in your grasp and it,
wrangling...
problem cases
‘Noka’s Problem Case Club ;p
is what it says. it’s a ribbon.
the emoji at the end is not a part of it but it was added in purple pen in your own handwriting but you don’t own any purple pens you want to. You Should. You Have Stolen Some From Them
and the nickname gives you an emotion you do not, cannot understand but you cry when you hold it for the first(?) time,
when you gather your friends now it always feels like there is someone missing even though, there never, was,
when you get permission to LOOK there are still. HOLES.
You can’t even think about it for long before getting dizzy but it’s the only thing you think about because,
When you look into your own mind you See,
You UnKnow because,
the webs,
are breaking but things are making more and less sense you are Missing Someone that was
Never Always There
“Ugh, it’s almost like the universe is stopping us from-” you’re venting to your boyfriend before you stop
the universe, REALITY. IS NOT. YOUR. JOB.
truth rings where you cannot hear where nothing can hear where nothing is you are not nothing because you ARE but there is SOMEONE in the NOTHING
“Right. Right, it’s…”
You are an insect you are too tiny for what you are about to think but
The MIND
IS YOUR
DOMAIN
And you are TIRED of it being VEILED in LIES
“It. It is.”
and when you scan around the courtyard as if you can See It, Know It, Reality it is not your job it is not your place it is NOT YOU your eyes do not skip over the cabin that was not there before because it
was always there before and it doesn’t make sense why it wouldn’t be it’s in the middle of two others how could it not have been there
It is Still Not There, not-there, NOT THERE there is nothing THERE
But there is and there isn’t but you walk over in a daze and
There is no name on the door except,
Except,
And you shouldn’t go in because it is a hole just like the ones in your head and it will claim you just like it claimed-
It claimed-
Ḯ̶̛̯̭̘̱̻̲͉̜͌̀̕ ̶̻̯̈́̽̀͠T̴͎̜͇̿̃̕͜͠͝ ̷͉̟̼̩͕̱̉͊͒̐ ̷͉̭̼͉̈́̇̍̀̈́͛̓͜C̵̠̳̮̣͖̈́̓̂̈́̅̌͝ͅ ̶̖͓̖͐̊̈́̊̚L̴̢̖̗̮͠ ̵̲̜̫̥̈́ͅÀ̶̝̪̮̦̙͍̆̊̃̎̇̍ͅ ̴̞̈́I̶̥̳̜̝͕͛̃̏͒͆̓͠ͅ ̵̭͍̘͋̈́̈́̈͑͘M̸̡̧̫̥̣͋͑̈́͆͛̿ ̷̥̺̥̝̹͙͛̿̚ͅĘ̶͕͈̲͙͇͆͗̓́̑͘͜͠ͅ ̷̘̱͈̥̼͂̾̚͠ͅḐ̴̬̺̗̗̻̘̼̀̀̍̈́̑́͛
Someone.
friendfamilytruthrealityprotectorfriendfamilytruth-
You open the door.
R̸̲͖̾̾͋̎͠I̸̼̟̠͖̟̗̣̩̦̥͖̥̰̙͋͋̾́̽̉̓̎̉̀̿̅̄͌͐͘͠͠N̶̨͖̹̞̮͖̭͔̜͓̝̺͎̲̞̽͜ ̸̨̡̗̗͉͕̯̳͉̘̦̙͑̈́̉̔̌̈́̃̈́̈́̃͂̇͌̕̚͜S̸̡̨̡̞̞̰͚̰̳̜͋̎̎̍̽̄͒́̒͊͊̓̓̀͘A̷̢̲͇̺͔̫̱̫͖̗͕͍͒̈́͋̇̔͆̑̋̓͆̒̉́͑̽̕͜͝S̷̡̖͍̙̣̦̝̈́̓͒̊͑͛̑͊̉̆͒̚Ǎ̴̢͕̦̟͈̞̥͈̗̜̭̩̮͙̰̆̂͆̇̋̐̕Ḵ̴̣̦͎͈̠͙̠̳̙͇̥̯̝̩͈͋̍̑̚I̷̞̲̔̈́ ̶̨̧̥͚̲͚͕͙̓̐̽̋̓̓͑̓͋̒̕͠͝͝O̸̧͕̪͎͉̗̥̼̞̬̼̯͛̇̄͗͗̑̿̈́̇͊̇̾̑̅͝͝ͅS̴̛̹̱͔̯̻̹̦̟͚̦̻͒̑̐̎͒͋̒̿́̽̐̐͠͠H̵̡̢̳͎͓̘̰̞̦̭̻̰̤̔̅̈̉̐͜͜I̸̡͕̲̩̪̥̝̮̿͋̇͛̌̄̔͋̌̊͝R̶̡̺̲͕͍̀̍̆̄͊͑̊̆͋͌͂͛̀̈́̿̄̚͠͝͝Ơ̵̦̟̬̘͙̯̝̟̩̗͊̍̂̑̓͊̍͐̽̓̈́̃̈́̆̅̒̔̚̕
There is nothing there.
There is Nothing there.
There is
N̶̥͉̘͕̂̋̉̓̉ ̸̬̠͌̃͂͛̎̐̀̓̎̿͒͘͝͠Ò̴̡̺̟͕͙̣̩ ̶̛̫͍͖͓̮͔̗͕͑͛̒̑̔̊̑̒̔̊́͆͗͘T̸̡̨̧̬͈̜̠̝̮͍̥̻͕͍̈́̾̆̿̏̌͑̂ͅ ̷̪̀̽͆̋Ḫ̴̥͌̾̊̆̓͐͗ ̴̡͔͖̬̲͓̜̜̟̮͋͌̏̄̐ͅĮ̶̦͚̺̝̲͙̇́̌͒̒ͅ ̶͉̣̮̬̰̈́͌̂̊́͋̈́͊͊͠͠N̸̯̱̳̺̳̯̗͔̗̽̉͒̍͂͘͜͝ ̸̡̮͐̀̍͐̚͝Ĝ̸̨̫̣̙͍͙̫̬̇̂̅̅́̇̆̎̽̉͂͘̕
There.
Nothing but cobwebs that are not you that are not Of You and air too still and yet,
There is. Something. There, a life was lived here a life was lost here but you cannot lose what you never did have and, and-
So you pull your friends together, tugging gently on strings and gifting imagery of a house unlived in but blank and empty canvas and dust like snow and even so the room is so silent, so static and unmoving you are not compelled to sneeze. you are guiding them to one of the holes, you know this, but you are all tied to REALITY and while this place is unstable, you…
you do not know what you are about to do. but you are about to do it, and you know once you begin there will be no turning back until it is over, until you are either consumed or
Something…
is different.
They show up together, those to whom your siren call sung, a dragon and an angel and you take their hands, drag them inside, watch them wonder together at this impossible thing that is here and they are Here and They are Not, and you -
Explain what you Have to Do. you are staring down eternity on a chessboard you cannot even see but all of you deal in things that cannot be Seen, in Thought and Mind and Emotion and you. you are tiny. but your Silk?
your Bonds?
Those are all you need. Those are enough
you hope, you hope so much that they will be enough and you don’t even know what you are hoping for,
you reach inward, into your own mind but also into the minds of your friends, layer all of the gaps overtop of each other. you have done this before, but you have never done what you are about to do now.
You…
Pierce the stack of them, years of memories, pin them in place as you weave, as you sew them together, define the element missing, the missing variable, the seam, push them together into something coherent and it is still void, and.
And.
That void goes somewhere
It goes Nowhere.
And that’s where you have to go.
you. can’t.
But you can cast a line.
You. do.
And - you’ve tried this before, throwing a random strand of silk into the gaps, but it never went anywhere. Literally, it didn’t go Somewhere because it went Nowhere but it didn’t even reach quite that far because. the strands - they didn’t snap. you are familiar with snapping strings, you have been tied to the dead and dying and you know what a light snuffed and ceased tastes of in your web.
often of prey.
but this wasn’t like that. every time you’ve sent power to void it’d… corroded, decayed, left the sickly sweet dust behind that curdles your blood curls your toes clenches your teeth because it’s wrongshouldn’tdoesn’texistwrong
This time though?
This time it’s different
This time, the string pulls taut.
You are quick to weave more, throw in woven tapestries of nets that are intricate and made to ensnare made to blanket made to protect because you can feel your opposition, the weight of reality is making itself known upon your shoulders and you nearly collapse where you are clinging to your friends’ hands but you will. Not. Fall. They are with you. They are behind you, they are a satellite to your efforts, they hold you up.
You. Cannot. Fall.
Someone is in there and you can feel them on the other end and this is the millionth first time you’ve ever felt them and all you know for sure is that you need to hold on, need to pull, need to lead them out There Is A Them To Lead Out, Now, and you are pulling and dragging and fighting tooth and nail against the coin that is Void and Unreality and Reality and What is Real but you don’t know if you can do this and, and, and,
and,
the someone grabs on and
pulls and the desperation and the POWER AND SUDDENLY
YOU ARE NOT NOTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE AND NEVER HAVE BEEN
BUT YOU ARE SOMETHING BECAUSE THEY ARE
THEY
ARE
AND WHERE ETERNITY TOWERED OVER YOU AND YOU WERE NOT WORTHY TRUTH
E C H O E S IN YOUR WEB
AND YOU KNOW TRUTH AND THAT IS NOT YOUR JOB
BUT IT IS ENOUGH
IT Is enough.
…it is enough.
there is a bed that wasn’t there before.
there is a person in it that wasn’t there before, and you,
you are holding on, hand in theirs, sometime in your reverie you had moved closer, stepped into their space they are here they take up space, tied together with web that is visible, tangible, but.
but they were there before.
they...
the bed, them,
“Rin.”
They open their eyes.
“Hey ‘Lin? What. The fuck?”
And your laughter, when it comes, is tinged with hysteria and relief and manic joy because they’re here they’re back you can Remember
You Remember.
And you collapse on top of your friend, feel their mental protest that you do not lay to rest just because,
they’re safe now, there is web bandaging the void and you are safe with them and they are safe and you are safe and you just - you just -
“I just played a game of chess with the universe, I think. And won.”
They huff, huff at you. And you smile so hard your cheeks hurt you missed them so much there is a them to miss now but you don’t have to
“Leave that to me, I think you’re about to pass out for like, a week.”
“Fuck you,” the answer is immediate. Comfortable. You are as home as they are, now, tangled together with one of your best friends safe, in a safety net, but oh. Oh, you’re so tired, and you taste in their mind that they are even moreso. “But yeah, uh, I think, I think I’m gonna pass out now.”
“Oh, big same.”
…you are out before you hear them, but it is okay, because you Hear them anyway, entangled as you are.
you sleep.
and with your friend by your side, your mind sewn together, put to Rights,
you Rest.