Of Course You're the Father!
Apr. 20th, 2022 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seishinmuroiMikhail absolutely adored living with his father and big brother. This was without question the happiest he had ever been in his life. He was permitted to use his name rather than his number. He supposed he didn’t despise any number as much as 71. Nothing had hurt him so terribly as when his big brother told him he didn’t understand, that he didn’t have a name anymore. He could no longer be identified as Mikhail or Misha. Those were remnants of a past life.
It wasn’t as though the life he’d left behind had been pleasant either. When he was alone with Mother he could be a boy. But constantly, he was forced to dress up like a little girl. It wasn’t exactly that he loathed frilly gowns. (They looked splendid on his gorgeous mother.) However, he genuinely loathed pretending to be something he wasn’t. Mikhail had always been a fairly straightforward and sincere individual. He didn’t really grasp why being male was no good, why his mother’s clients preferred females. He didn’t like what they did to him either. It hurt. And mother would never protect him. She’d get angry if he sobbed or screamed. And her displeasure would become apparent when they were in private.
He’d become well acquainted with Mother’s palms. When she was more irate she’d ball her hands into fists and then he was really in for it. But he supposed even that time had been preferable to what came afterwards. Being an experiment truly was no fun. And he lived in a cell which was worse than his previous room had been even if he had often shared a bed with big brother. The pillows were fluffy. The blankets were warm enough. Dr. Moreau didn’t wish for them to die from pneumonia after all. That would be a waste of valuable materials especially since him and big brother were the ones who’d lasted the longest. All the same, he was incarcerated. His world had shrunk to a handful of rooms. He'd been denied fresh air. And even Mother had bequeathed a stuffed animal or two when the demons slumbered. (Dr. Moreau didn't care for toys.)
Mikhail couldn’t help but wonder why they were the only two to survive the blood injections. Although Father said they likely wouldn’t live that long. The blood was making them sick. They could die in a matter of weeks or potentially years. But their death was inevitable if something wasn’t done. Mikhail wasn’t overly concerned about it. All humans died eventually. No one knew when their time would come. And Father just might make him kin of the blue moon like himself! Vanitas didn’t want that but Mikhail did.
Surely it wasn’t so awful to desire a proper family. What if Mikhail should outlive Vanitas? Wasn’t that to be expected because Vanitas was older than him? At least there would be Father. Mikhail had no idea what he would do if he was abandoned by everyone, left to languish all alone.
He had such a kind family now. He really did love benevolent people. But...he felt more than a little guilty despite appearances. He knew his big brother had suffered terribly endeavoring to protect him. Mikhail was weak. He hated pain. Mother’s tantrums always hurt. Dr. Moreau’s experiments were pure agony. So he couldn’t help but beg and plead for a savior. But he really did detest it, how big brother was tormented in his stead. And then...Father would have left the two of them if Mikhail didn’t implore him to bring them with him. And even though Father seemed happy with the three of them, it wasn’t like Mikhail was so ignorant and naïve he didn’t realize what a burden children could be. (And Vanitas could prove quite bossy and difficult.)
Well...He supposed there was nothing for it now. They’d fashioned a home for themselves. It wasn’t like Mikhail could turn back the clocks, undo any of his past decisions. And even if he could...would anything change? He’d still be a weak child terrified of pain and isolation. All he could do was try to help however he could now. If he was cheerful, they would smile. That was all he could manage…
And he did have an agenda for today since Vanitas was silly and couldn’t understand why Father was Father. As soon as Vanitas rose, Mikhail grabbed his hand and dragged him to where Father was without a word of explanation.
“Father, Vanitas doesn’t understand why you’re Father! He thinks Mother suits you better! But really it’s so obvious you’re the father! Would you prefer to explain or should I?” Although if Vanitas didn’t get it already...Mikhail wasn’t certain what he could do to convince him, open his eyes. Surely Father would present his case better.
It wasn’t as though the life he’d left behind had been pleasant either. When he was alone with Mother he could be a boy. But constantly, he was forced to dress up like a little girl. It wasn’t exactly that he loathed frilly gowns. (They looked splendid on his gorgeous mother.) However, he genuinely loathed pretending to be something he wasn’t. Mikhail had always been a fairly straightforward and sincere individual. He didn’t really grasp why being male was no good, why his mother’s clients preferred females. He didn’t like what they did to him either. It hurt. And mother would never protect him. She’d get angry if he sobbed or screamed. And her displeasure would become apparent when they were in private.
He’d become well acquainted with Mother’s palms. When she was more irate she’d ball her hands into fists and then he was really in for it. But he supposed even that time had been preferable to what came afterwards. Being an experiment truly was no fun. And he lived in a cell which was worse than his previous room had been even if he had often shared a bed with big brother. The pillows were fluffy. The blankets were warm enough. Dr. Moreau didn’t wish for them to die from pneumonia after all. That would be a waste of valuable materials especially since him and big brother were the ones who’d lasted the longest. All the same, he was incarcerated. His world had shrunk to a handful of rooms. He'd been denied fresh air. And even Mother had bequeathed a stuffed animal or two when the demons slumbered. (Dr. Moreau didn't care for toys.)
Mikhail couldn’t help but wonder why they were the only two to survive the blood injections. Although Father said they likely wouldn’t live that long. The blood was making them sick. They could die in a matter of weeks or potentially years. But their death was inevitable if something wasn’t done. Mikhail wasn’t overly concerned about it. All humans died eventually. No one knew when their time would come. And Father just might make him kin of the blue moon like himself! Vanitas didn’t want that but Mikhail did.
Surely it wasn’t so awful to desire a proper family. What if Mikhail should outlive Vanitas? Wasn’t that to be expected because Vanitas was older than him? At least there would be Father. Mikhail had no idea what he would do if he was abandoned by everyone, left to languish all alone.
He had such a kind family now. He really did love benevolent people. But...he felt more than a little guilty despite appearances. He knew his big brother had suffered terribly endeavoring to protect him. Mikhail was weak. He hated pain. Mother’s tantrums always hurt. Dr. Moreau’s experiments were pure agony. So he couldn’t help but beg and plead for a savior. But he really did detest it, how big brother was tormented in his stead. And then...Father would have left the two of them if Mikhail didn’t implore him to bring them with him. And even though Father seemed happy with the three of them, it wasn’t like Mikhail was so ignorant and naïve he didn’t realize what a burden children could be. (And Vanitas could prove quite bossy and difficult.)
Well...He supposed there was nothing for it now. They’d fashioned a home for themselves. It wasn’t like Mikhail could turn back the clocks, undo any of his past decisions. And even if he could...would anything change? He’d still be a weak child terrified of pain and isolation. All he could do was try to help however he could now. If he was cheerful, they would smile. That was all he could manage…
And he did have an agenda for today since Vanitas was silly and couldn’t understand why Father was Father. As soon as Vanitas rose, Mikhail grabbed his hand and dragged him to where Father was without a word of explanation.
“Father, Vanitas doesn’t understand why you’re Father! He thinks Mother suits you better! But really it’s so obvious you’re the father! Would you prefer to explain or should I?” Although if Vanitas didn’t get it already...Mikhail wasn’t certain what he could do to convince him, open his eyes. Surely Father would present his case better.
