Work Text:
From one moment, you were doom scrolling on YouTube. The next? In a void of darkness surrounded by only shards of a broken mirror and the light of stars.
You don’t immediately question what has happened, assuming this is a dream and your body rests in your mess of a room, face first into your Monokuma plushie and body partially curled into a Texas Longhorn comforter.
But instead it’s the images in the mirror grab your attention, for they don’t reflect the face of a brunette woman, whose thighs were that of tree trunks and whose figure was chubby in all the right and wrong places at the same time.
No, most of the faces were of a redhead, more crimson than ginger, with various ranges of shapes and sizes. Like different versions of the fictional persona you held on the internet.
You reach and touch one of the shards, at first only feeling cold glass before hearing a soft giggle, the girl in the mirror shard you were touching popping out like the girl from that one Japanese horror movie.
You stumbled back, nearly tripping before being embraced by warm arms. The girl just giggles, her fangs poking out her painted crimson lips and her butterfly wings fully spread out.
“We’re sure are easily startled, even when facing ourselves” the woman smirked.
With a closer examination, you recognise the girl as the Fae version of yourself, which you described specifically to your friends on the internet. She even dawned the new dress and shoes you bought, though the wing design wasn’t fully revealed yet.
You smile at the memory, for this is a new persona you created after a tiny plushie and a discord admin tease you being a trickster, particularly when it came to games like Minecraft and Valheim.
Mainly because you thought tilting their aesthetics was humorous, like a certain vampire messing with his master.
“The girls and I are worried about you. You really stumbled back into the cycle of despair and self-loathing. Grandma wouldn’t want to see us like this you know?”
Tears pierce your eyes, a small reminder of the loss of one of your lights a few weeks ago.
“I know. It’s just…. I feel fragile right now. My mind is slowing down and isn’t as sharp. Moreover, my behaviour feels like my mind is regressing, like I am loosing myself in a way I am not ready for.”
The fae cradles your face, wiping away the tears.
“It’s a real fear, isn’t it? But you can’t give in, you can’t take your own life because of the lows we live in presently. The future is still bright and worth pursuing, Megan.”
You breathe, taking in the name you chose for yourself. She’s right, we can’t take Lady Death’s duty from her. Our time will come when she’s ready to take us home.
And yet…
“Why must I continue to suffer? Especially at the infinite possibilities before me? You and the others are ideal forms of a life I could have, but I must continue to live in this reality. It’s not fair.”
Another girl popped out of the mirror, this one looking closer to your alter ego, Catherine McHall.
“Life isn’t fair, Childe. Or did you forget what happened to my sons?”
Your face morphs into shame, knowing the hardships of the woman facing you, her face stern yet her eyes watery. And you put her story onto paper, thus making it true to others who read your writings.
A pain of guilt rises in your core, knowing that these versions of you aren’t ideal in truth. But the characteristics and values that matter to you make you envious of them.
“I’m sorry. I just wished…. I had somethings you all have that I don’t presently.”
Unconsciously, your right hand moves to your stomach, an action you imagined you would do if you were capable of something most women were capable of. You notice a few of the others mirror the gesture, realising a few were closer to your situation than others.
The fae gave you a sad smile, “I know reality has denied you a lot of desires, like one you keep to yourself. But taking a gamble on your only known life for a reality that may not materialise isn’t worth it. We are at our best when we decide to tell temptation to fly a kite.”
You drop your right hand and soak in the words of the Fae.
The woman moves to whisper to you.
“You have a heart and a soul of a Mother, one whose is good to her children. And in plenty of realities, they prosper.”
You blink briefly, noting the warm smile of many, before an rogue thought occurs to you.
“Is that why I don’t see a version of me that is happy being the way they were born?”
The Fae and others chuckle, before the Fae speaks up once more.
“As unbelievable as it is, there’s no version of us that is content on being a man. We’re fully a woman in every timeline, regardless if we’re cisgender or transgender. Our father never had a son and will never have a son.”
You snort at that revelation, more so at the irony of the situation when faced with his beliefs. Still, you wish he could realize that and just embrace his daughter. The Fae stroked your cheek, wiping away the lone tear.
“Don’t worry about him, he still is worth loving and still a good father, even if he never sees his daughter. You know this to be true.”
You breathe in deeply and left to your thoughts and dreams, before the Fae addresses you once more.
“We must go, it’s time for you to wake up. Remember this, you’re special to someone and your life is precious. Continue to hold onto these truths and you will prosper.”
And with that, your phone rings out its daily alarm.