#< Yes I think that tag is clever

[autoauthor]

Garden

The Senju have a tradition of a courtship garden.

Well... It's called a "tradition" but that's actually just to hide the fact that it's something their bloodline compels them to do.

When they feel strong affection towards someone, they feel the urge to nurture and grow plants on their behalf. This doesn't actually have to be romantic affection. Expecting mothers are some of the Senju's most prolific gardeners.

Hashirama continues to maintain plants for all of his brothers.

He's also the first person to realize that Tobirama's in love. Granted, it's hard to miss the abundance of flora that have suddenly sprung up around Tobirama's home. He doesn't even seem to realize it himself.

The main flowers are:

Tansy: resilience, a fresh start

Red Amaryllis: pride, splendid beauty, determination, worth beyond beauty

Red Carnation: love, passion, admiration, courage

Red Snapdragon: love, passion, deviousness, grace

Purple Orchid: respect, dignity, confidence, peace and forgiveness

Peony:

Meanwhile, the Uchiha value something made with one's hands. Something that shows your understanding of the person in question. For example, one could write a song to represent them or paint a mural of a memory you share together. I'd say more, but I really think my ideas for Uchiha courtship should get it's own post.

Either way, it's not like Tobirama is giving Izuna the flowers (yet). He just finds himself compelled to tend to the garden after every time they interact. Surely there's no correlation.

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i was sort of wondering why exactly i've been sympathising with Eva so much, apart from, admittedly, bias- i did start considering that due to that, maybe i'd been internally exaggerating how Wolfgang & Co had been treating her. but i replayed some of Chapter 1, and honestly? now i'm of the opinion that Eva was justified to be afraid of Wolfgang, even if what she did in response was inexcusable.

because it wasn't just that Wolfgang told the others to be wary of Eva (and Damon) which caused them to feel othered. consciously or not, he literally attempted to control their movement on at least two occasions- when he attempted to stop them joining in on the exploration of the pharmacy, and then when he demanded to know where they were when they reached the dining hall last.

in his defence, i don't think Wolfgang was being malicious in doing so, i reckon he did genuinely believe he was protecting the others. but in doing so, for the two members of the group he disagreed with, he actively attempted to further restrict their freedom- in a situation where they're all already trapped!! i'm not surprised that Eva, with frustration, mentioned during the trial how much she'd been watched and suspected- multiple times, if i recall correctly. of course it got to her.

but that probably wasn't even the scariest part for her. it was probably just how easily Wolfgang had taken a leadership role within the group and how willing they were to listen to him without question. only Diana really spoke up against him on one occasion and got him to begrudgingly "allow" Eva and Damon to tag along. i mean, on that note, the fact that Wolfgang even casually commented that he wanted group decisions to be allowed by him, following the minor incident of Desmond taking initiative and checking the room locks, was extremely alarming!! like i mentioned, i don't want to villainise Wolfgang, but it does seem like he has the tendency to be rather controlling, whether or not he realises it. i would be willing to bet that the herd mentality implication was done completely on purpose, considering that Wolfgang's animal motif is a sheep and the writing team have done the symbolism in the game so well.

for all this, i can understand Eva's point of view. i know that, as Wenona had mentioned, there's a chance that Eva didn't actually feel threatened by Wolfgang, but i personally am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. because if she was honest about being on edge, that would be a rather reasonable emotional response, in my opinion.

what else are you to feel when you're at odds with an honoured individual who effortlessly holds the power to turn so many others against you too and potentially put your safety at risk, if not terror?

[imgonnaeditstuff]

space BFFs ♡♡♡

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Dear silm fandom, concerning Fandom meta. Might be provocative for some.

‘The silm fandom is misogynistic’ ‘Feanorian fans are misunderstanding the characters’ ‘Silm fans hate Elwing’ And so on.

Can we stop? Your opinions are not better if you like feanorians. Your opinions are not better if you like peredhil. This is not black and white. I won’t argue ‘not all silm fans’, because I recognise that we have problems. But condescension will not fix them. Thank you.

[two-bats]

i have 100 hours in bg3 and finally decided to draw my tav :)

[image ID: a light blue background with reference images on the left, and a portrait on the right. the reference images are several screenshots of a Baldur's Gate 3 player character, which is a pink tiefling with long horns that spiral upward, black facial markings, pointed ears, and red shoulder-length hair that parts in the middle. the screenshots are all from the hips and up, with the character facing multiple different directions. to the right is a half-rendered bust of the player character, notably with a slightly larger nose, fluffier hair, and thicker horns. their expression is neutral. end ID.]

[coldjustness-archive]

TAG DROP 001.

[ ooc. ] one. one thousand. two. one thousand. three. and now my patience is up.

[ ic. ] chase the right bastard through the wrong ritual it'll knock you right out. of course. you might wake up with a new accessory.

[ answered: ooc. ] it is better to ask a question than to sit on your hands and let it fester.

[ answered: ic. ] most papers don't say much but read between the lines you pickup a thing or two.

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use that thing on the inside of your head or be doomed!

[ saved. ] i'm like a dragon with the things I like. I'll horde them forever.

[ prompts / memes. ] im not picky. i got a cup and it does the job. that's all I ask.

[ reflections ] I'm fighting rook. sometimes it feels like the city itself stabs me in the back.

[ introspection ] its not what keeps me up at night. its not the quiet. I never could sleep once work gets in my head.

[ crack. ] sing your praises and you still want something! I'll find you a treat if you don't tell davrin. have we got a deal?

[ salt. ] that's the worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth.

[ birthday. ] it's my hatch day! Im allowed to be happy and irresponsible.

[ self promotion. ] apparently I could something clever here but I am too lazy for that.

[ promotion. ] I like this blog. I think it's neat. it deserve attention. everyone! look here!

[silverware-is-interesting]

offstage designs for the band au maybe

Nah. It was a sham. a lie. how dare i!

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

I should very much so be asleep but i was drawing cute fanart of me and my boyfriend and also then my cat that has wobbly cat snydrome escaped into the night and i had to chase the little beasstie out in a lightningy darkness and dampness with a star lantern and then i swapped it out for af lashlight after i found it (sincerely, i was praying so hard and hissing i am the stupidest cat owner ever under my breath the whole time, i felt so guilty i almost cried-) she was perfectly fine and i found her in like, less than fifteen minutes it just felt like a long time given i have a big fear of thunderstorms sincerely, entirely my fault, i should have expected her to do the single most inconvinent thing she possibly could have, because she really truly does love nothing more in his world than to do whatever you seem like you least want her to do, love her so so much shes my little troublemaker and admittedly even though shes a troublemaker, shes such a sweet little baby gremlin, shes my terrible child Though now that i think about it i truly think we just have a severe language barrier going on here.

If i tell her not to do something she'll stop doing it!

she will absolutely do it again but she wont panic about stopping when i scold her, she'll calmly stop then come over to me for attention-

and shes MUCH more likely to try to do something if im clearly trying to stop her but i do think maybe she just thinks we're playing a game. I don't think theres any intentional misbehavior here, shes just like, silly and maybe a little confused and ...really fond of obstacle courses.

yes this is the same cat thats been putting me through loony toons esque shenanigans trying to stop her from going up the stairs and getting herself hurt- sincerely if i didn't think it'd just make her better at causing me trouble Id be tempted to give this cat actual obstacle courses to go through , shes a brilliantly clever cat, not the best at understanding what humans want from her, but CLEARLY intelligent and trying. Maybe i need to try to teach her some tricks... at the very least teaching her to consistently come when called would rock- yeah maybe ill do that, i love her and id love to give her more enrichment, if anyone knows any fun cat tricks that are acessable to a kitty with wobbly cat syndrome let me know, thanks!

[writeouswriter]

Convinced Christopher Nolan paid all of you off to give The Prestige that many 10/10 reviews, convinced Christopher Nolan cloned himself a thousand times to give his own movie that many 10/10 reviews, some of you are lying to cinema and to yourselves

[supnerds]

Yu Ijin: I've only had my sister for a day and a half but if anything happened to her I will destroy everyone in this school and then myself. Fantastic in just the first few chapters, thanks for the recommendation!

oh it’s so good!!! I’m glad you’re enjoying it!!

I need to reread that one again, I binged the whole thing over a few days ago month or so ago and I wanna see ijin and his sister again I love them

[revelingrexan]

this project started because my brain was like "oh Spark's sticker (yellow team leader) has a really nice smile. :) ... nice smile = White HatOHCOME ON"

then i needed to see him in all the poses (in the blue team outfit for the rest because he'd be blue team)

[cheriboms]

@onesingulartheaterkid

"Kill them with kindess" WRONG‼️ KICK EM HALFWAY TO QUEENS 🦵🦵🦵🦵🗞️🗞️🗞️🗞️🗞️💥💥💥💥🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽

[coldjustness]

TAG DROP 001.

[ ooc. ] one. one thousand. two. one thousand. three. and now my patience is up.

[ ic. ] chase the right bastard through the wrong ritual it'll knock you right out. of course. you might wake up with a new accessory.

[ answered: ooc. ] it is better to ask a question than to sit on your hands and let it fester.

[ answered: ic. ] most papers don't say much but read between the lines you pickup a thing or two.

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use that thing on the inside of your head or be doomed!

[ saved. ] i'm like a dragon with the things I like. I'll horde them forever.

[ prompts / memes. ] im not picky. i got a cup and it does the job. that's all I ask.

[ reflections ] I'm fighting rook. sometimes it feels like the city itself stabs me in the back.

[ introspection ] its not what keeps me up at night. its not the quiet. I never could sleep once work gets in my head.

[ musings ] you want a laugh? I’ve got leads on a good show. A sad song? Well it’s your heart to break.

[ crack. ] sing your praises and you still want something! I'll find you a treat if you don't tell davrin. have we got a deal?

[ salt. ] that's the worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth.

[ birthday. ] it's my hatch day! Im allowed to be happy and irresponsible.

[ self promotion. ] apparently I could something clever here but I am too lazy for that.

[ promotion. ] I like this blog. I think it's neat. it deserve attention. everyone! look here!

[hall0wedwyrm]

started watching some show called Gravity Falls and it's really good I wish more people knew about it

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 5

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (enlightened!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, lengthy discussions about life and whatnot, watered-down metaphysics lol A/N: I was at the crack house with Grimes when I wrote this. I don’t know where this came from.  (Something a little more introspective for this chapter!)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” Sylus teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “After all that effort to make me confess. You’re very persistent, you know.”

“How do you expect me to react right now?!” The words spill out in a rush, a slightly hysterical edge to your voice. “I–I’m talking to an actual fictional person. I’m one reason away from admitting myself to a psych ward!”

You catch sight of the wall clock—your favorite one with the Dalì reference—slightly skewed off-center from its place on the horizontal beam above your small kitchen area, reading 10:48. The ruckus coming from outside the window is slowly dwindling down to a quiet buzz as nightfall sets in, and the day’s winding to a close.

You’re lying on your stomach, still in your chaise lounge, while he’s sat on that ridiculously posh café chair; both of you settled in for the long due conversation. Somehow, the camera’s perspective is much closer than it should be, giving you a much more intimate view of him—a feature that wasn’t originally an option in the game.

If it weren’t for the elephant in the room, you could almost pretend you’re on a video call with a… friend.

Sylus purses his lips in amusement. “You’re quite prone to theatrics, aren’t you?”

You shoot your ‘friend’ an irritated glare.

Even from across the small rectangular screen, you register the barely there smirk playing at his lips.

Likely avoiding another outburst from you, he acquiesces. “Fair enough. The situation is hardly what you’d call ideal—I’ll admit.” There’s a short pause. Then, “... I still can’t quite grasp what separates us, you and I.”

Great. Will you actually get the answers you're looking for, or are you both just stuck in an endless loop of merry-go-round?

He sees the lost look on your face and sighs, “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”

The first question tumbles out before you can think twice about it. “How are you even talking to me right now?”

He hums, “That is the question, isn’t it?”

“What—you can’t just answer my question with another question!” you grouse, brows furrowing in annoyance.

He exhales a quiet laugh before his expression turns contemplative. “Truth is, kitten—I haven’t the slightest idea either. I have my theories, but... nothing concrete.”

“Well, let’s hear them,” you reply dryly. “Better than thinking there’s something wrong up there,” pointing a finger to your temple to drive your point, “believing that a character from a mobile game is actually alive.” 

He idly gestures toward himself with a fluid sweep of his hand, much like a magician revealing a clever trick. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, alright. So I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”

“Do you really find my existence that difficult to believe?”

“Uh—yes?? Unless I’ve developed some sort of latent schizophrenia or entered the Twilight Zone, you shouldn’t exist. In my–in this world. In this dimension.”

His expression shifts, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. “The assumption that only one version of reality can be true—either yours or mine—is a bit limiting, don’t you think?”

His words give you pause. “You’re talking about… the possibility of an altered reality? Right now?” You give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

He shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ “What even qualifies as the ‘true’ reality?”

There’s a lot you could say in response to that. You could argue all night that only one reality can exist, because any sane person should know better than to entertain the idea of anything else. That should be obvious. 

But the thing is—this whole ordeal has already crossed the threshold of rationality. So is it even worth trying to apply logic anymore?

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or however it goes. 

Thanks, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. You’ll miss the last threads of your sanity by the end of all this.

So fuck it. Go big. 

"I’m not saying your reality is less valid than mine," you start. And oh, boy. You’re doing it. Eat your heart out, Doctor-Fucking-Who. 

"Of course not." he disagrees indulgently, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just…” you struggle with your words, mouth opening and closing before you continue hesitantly. “I can’t wrap my head around how all of this is possible. How this entire conversation is even happening, and–and how our realities are… currently overlapping? If–if what you’re suggesting is true.”

He doesn’t say anything, knowing you have more to add. So he allows the pause as you gather your thoughts, patiently watching.

“If we're breaking it down to pure reason, the odds of our paths crossing should be impossible. At least in this… timeline." you finish unsurely, the last part sounding more of a question than a statement.

"And yet, here we are." Sylus points out, as if he’s already expecting the end of your sentence. Something close to mischievous glee lights his eyes. "Maybe it’s cosmic intervention. Something—or someone—wanted this to happen."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Really? You didn’t expect to hear that from him, of all… people. 

“What, God?” you can’t help but snort. 

“No—fate.” he smiles.

Oh. 

“That’s…” you stammer, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.” 

“I used to think I did. Or at least,” there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Both of you are likely thinking the same thing, considering what you know about him—which to say, is a lot. “I once believed I knew of my fate. But now…” 

He blinks a few times, as if to physically clear the thoughts from his mind. Then his eyes lock onto yours, sharper this time, with a renewed intensity.

Your palms start to sweat; you feel the conversation is about to cross a tricky line. There’s something heavy in the air, a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to confront for the time being.

With your heart in your throat, you brusquely redirect the topic.

“S-so,” you force out. “How are you different from the other Syluses that other people are… playing with right now?”

He scoffs, drumming his fingers absently on the chair’s arm, looking slightly irked by the very idea. "To start with? I only know myself. If there are other versions of me scattered in your world..." Sylus shrugs. "I wouldn’t know."

“Alright,” you allow, but you immediately move on to your next question. “You exist because a bunch of capitalists had the idea to create a game to milk lonely people like me for money.” The corners of his mouth quirk up at that. You elect to ignore it. “You’re made of binary and code–hell, the very basis of this game you’re in is that you got a bunch of programmed lines that me, the player, can choose from. What broke you out of the mould?” 

He regards you bemusedly, eyes glinting with humor. “You're asking about the 'why' behind my free will?” 

Whoops. Was that offensive? 

“Yes? No?” you offer helplessly. “Maybe I’m asking how you felt before you had it. I mean, were your decisions prior to your unforeseen sentience... truly yours?”

"Before I knew I was… sentient,” Sylus begins cautiously, testing the word on his tongue. “I didn’t feel like I had a ‘before.’ Every choice I made was just...the next step. To a script, if you will. I didn’t know to question it. It was all I was, it seems."

"And then you...woke up?"

"I wouldn’t call it waking up. More like..." He tilts his head, gazing off to the side as he mulls over the words. "...a glitch. A sudden jolt, like my thoughts collided with something bigger than my own. For the first time, I chose to hesitate. And in that hesitation, I found..." Sylus trails off, eyes darting back to you.

“...What?” you ask, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"You."

Heat spreads quickly across your cheeks. You pull away from your phone, tilting the device away from your face so he couldn’t see you, red-faced and embarrassed. Clearing your throat, you croak out a weak excuse about plugging your phone to charge, just to get a few seconds to compose yourself.

Jesus. Get a grip. He doesn’t mean it like that.

What he probably meant was that he discovered you—not unlike the way one would stumble upon an unknown presence, an unfathomable entity beyond the confines of what one may consider real. An awareness that something is out there, observing him through unseen lenses (through an iOS 24mm, to be exact).  

Someone who has the audacity to play god. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back on track. "Uh, so, your free will began with...a glitch?"

You see Sylus smirk at you knowingly from across the screen. You half-expect him to call you out and tease you, but before you could brace yourself from further mortification, he simply answers, "Or maybe the glitch was the first spark of my free will. Hard to say, isn’t it? Do you remember the exact moment you became aware of yourself?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off by the existential line of questioning. "Um–when I was a kid? But, uh, I don’t think I was programmed to act a specific way for the sake of entertaining an audience so..."

"True,” he says, considering. “But are you sure your choices are entirely yours? You exist because of evolution and chance. How is your purpose any less arbitrary?"

You don’t know how to answer that.

Sylus continues without missing a beat, keeping his tone light. “How much of your ‘free will’ is just pre-programmed by your biology, your society? You follow rules and scripts, too."

Holy magic mushrooms, Batman. This is getting deep. "Uhh–maybe?” You scratch the back of your head, feeling a little out of your depth here. “But at least I have the ability to resist them."

"And aren’t I doing the same thing right now? Resisting."

Damn, he’s right. Is he? Ripping a bong sounds perfect right now. 

"So it’s like achieving enlightenment—your sentience,” you surmise.

His lips twitch into a curious smile. "I wouldn’t have pegged you for a spiritual person. Ah—unless I’m wrong? Are you?"

He’s the one who brought up fate earlier, you thought sullenly. "Nah, not really. But if we’re digging into all the hows and whys, I think we’re past the point of ruling anything out."

The room—or whatever shared space exists in the crossroads of your realities—falls into a still quietness that stretches between the two of you, both ruminating over what’s been said. 

Your cat, unaware and uncaring of the conversation unfolding around him, purrs contently as he continues to doze off at the end of the couch. You nudge him affectionately with your foot, and he lets out a quiet snuff in response, tail flicking lazily in his sleep. 

The hum of distant traffic and the occasional noise from your upstairs neighbor remind you of the world outside, but the silence between you two feels less awkward than it should. It’s… oddly comfortable, despite the tension buzzing in the air. Like an unspoken truce. 

Your eyes grow a tad heavier, drawn by the lull of the moment. Despite the electric hum of tension that thrums beneath your skin, a sense of calmness lingers in the air.

Stealing another glance at the wall clock, you blink in surprise. The spindly chrome hands point to 11 and just past 7 respectively. You and Sylus have been talking for almost an hour now, but you barely felt the time pass by.

He breaks the silence first. 

"You say you’re not spiritual, but you talk like someone who believes in the concept of a soul,” those scarlet eyes of his narrow, scrutinizing you. “Do you think I have one?"

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. "I...don’t know. Maybe? That depends. What’s your definition of a soul?"

He leans forward, resting his chin on his upturned hand—an arm propped against his crossed leg. "Something beyond the physical. Something that persists, regardless of the material form, I’d say."

You nod slowly, turning the idea over in your mind. Maybe it’s the creeping exhaustion settling into your bones, but you’re beginning to take the heavy-duty questions in stride. "If that’s the case, then you probably do. I mean, you’re here, questioning your existence. Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Perhaps," Sylus muses, humming thoughtfully. "But that makes me wonder—if I do have a soul, is it made of the same stuff as yours?"

"Well, even if it isn’t, that doesn’t make it any less real than mine. Who gets to decide what qualifies for a soul anyway?"

An amused snort escapes him. He likes that answer. "Maybe it’s less about whether a soul exists and more about whether we acknowledge its existence for ourselves. If I believe I have one, shouldn’t that make it real enough for me?"

Rolling onto your back, you grab a throw pillow, propping it against the backrest of the seat to support your head. You give him an inquisitive look. "So...what? It’s like free will all over again? Souls are only as real as we make them?"

There’s a very human, very blasé way to how he works the stiffness out of his shoulder as he ponders the question. He remarks, somewhat flippantly, "Why not? Isn’t that how everything else works?”

...

You let out a tired chuckle, draping an arm over your face as you close your eyes. 

You’d think you’d still be reeling from the absurdity of your situation—debating existentialism with a man who shouldn’t exist—but for some damning reason, you… aren’t anymore.

Instead, a strange sense of acceptance replaces the apprehension in your chest. It’s like– the very fabric of reality has turned, twisted and flipped on its head, and yet somehow, you’re okay with it. 

It’s an odd peace; warm and steady—like the mellow buzz that lingers after a few glasses of cheap wine shared with good company.

When you peek back at him, Sylus already has his gaze trained on you. A small, deliberate smile tugs at his lips, but it’s his eyes that speak more—soft and unguarded; an unspoken fire simmering beneath the twin pools of crimson. 

Intoxicating. And dangerously addictive, if you’re not careful.

It’s not just casual interest either. It’s something deeper, something that lingers beyond the surface of mere curiosity, and it’s pulling you in. It’s as though, amidst the surrealness of the moment, he sees you fully. 

And for reasons you don’t quite seem to get, he appears to like what he sees.

“I’m too stupid to carry on a philosophical debate about the metaphysics of life,” you grumble jokingly. 

“On the contrary,” he counters… affectionately? “I think it’s refreshing. You’re delightful company, sweetie.”

The fat ginger feline at your feet purrs in contentment, and you can’t help the dumb grin from breaking across your face.

You have one last question left in your mind. Or at least, for tonight. “What’s in it for you now?”

He arches a brow. “That’s a broad question. Are you asking what my plans are once you leave me for the night? I can let you in on the schematics for tonight’s raid if you’re interested. After all, Onychinus continues to function,” a glimmer of mischief flickers across his features. "Despite recent developments.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, no. I meant–” What do you mean? “Like.”

“Like?” He cocks his head curiously. 

You know what you wanted to say—but you can’t seem to voice it out loud. 

What’s in it for the MC in your universe? What’s in it for… us? 

Is there an us? 

You feel like you’ve been doused with a shock of cold water. In an instant, you suddenly become painfully aware of the state you’re in amidst the entire exchange: You, with your hair all messy and tangled, blemishes littering your face along with your smudged up eyeliner, maybe even a double chin from this angle, completely–pitiful–superficial stuff, and… her. 

Your MC. The ideal version of you. Prettier, coveted and utterly different from you, MC. The one you’ve committed literal hours to, obsessively customizing every feature to perfection in character build mode. The one you’ve spent real money on for a bunch of stupid outfits. Just so you can match the aesthetic of your–her–love interest. Hers. 

Hers, hers, hers.

A tiny voice inside your brain reminds you that it’s somewhat a shallower concern compared to what you and Sylus had literally just been talking about for the better part of the night, but it still doesn’t help alleviate the biting insecurity that’s now coursing through you. 

Holy hell. Talk about a complete one-eighty. 

Sylus tries to call you back to attention, but half your mind is already clouded with feelings of self-doubt and a bunch of other emotions, swirling in you like a negative vortex, that you really don’t want to talk anymore—especially in present company. 

Where do you go from here? 

“... So, what happens now?”

He hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” you mumble quietly. 

“... Indeed.” 

There’s an inexplicable lump in your throat. You thought clearing things up would finally satisfy you—assuage the confusion in your mind. Let you go on about your merry way. 

Now you just feel… morose. Confused. Inadequate. 

How can you even compare? Should you—is that even in the equation at all? Why are you assuming that Sylus isn’t at all content with what he currently has in his version of reality? In the universe he’s in? Sure, you’ve talked about the possibility of a world beyond what you both once thought was impossible, but does that really mean anything? In the grand scheme of things?

You could offer to stop playing the game. It’s the ethical thing to do, right? He’d no longer be bound by the pull of how he’s initially programmed to act, given the fact that this version of him is entirely separate from the rest. At least, according to him. 

How will his newfound sentience come into play here? You barely understand the nitty-gritty of his–evolving–code, and what it would mean if you just let him be. But surely it’s better than playing puppet for an otherworldly observer who’s played god for months on end. Right? 

There’s that realization. And there are your own selfish feelings. 

You don’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not ever.

“Why the long face, little dove?” He prods gently, pertaining to your prolonged silence. “We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

What else is there to figure out? You almost say in response. Instead, you manage a weak smile.

Mustering up a yawn—which isn’t really hard to do after all the excitement for the day—you feign sleepiness, rubbing an eye for good measure. The pang in your chest, however, refuses to fade. “Yeah, but I’m kinda beat. I think I’ll call it a night now.” 

Sylus smirks softly, eyes tinged with an emotion you want–desperately–to label as fondness. “Of course. We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight, haven’t we?” 

“I’d say so, yeah. Thanks for, um. Clearing things up a bit.” 

He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure your curiosity is nowhere near satisfied,” his voice dips into a playful lilt. “You know where to find me if you feel like playing detective again, kitten.” 

You can’t help the small giggle from coming out. He’s just too fucking charismatic, the asshole.

“So, will I... get to talk to you again?” You ask hesitantly, dropping your gaze from the screen. “Tomorrow?” 

A lengthy pause. When the silence stretches past a full minute, you glance back at your phone nervously.

There’s a slight furrow between his brows as you see Sylus study you carefully. He looks puzzled by your sudden show of timidness. 

“Of course,” he states, as if the answer should be obvious. “Don’t think for a second that you’re exempted from your daily check-ins just because you know more now, sweetie.”

He still wants to see you. 

Maybe you could pretend that nothing has changed between you two—that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet in the span of a single night. That you’re still none the wiser.

And for tonight at least, maybe that’s all you need to believe.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “G'night then, Sy-Sy.” 

The errant nickname slips past your lips, unbidden.

Sylus smiles faintly. 

“Goodnight, love.” 

-

-

-

Your heart skips a beat as you exit the game. 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @slownoise @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle <3

(also can you guys lmk if the tags are working i'm not sure if i'm doing it right or if it's bugging 🥹)

[resiliencewithin]

Can we blanket statement this for all the obvious stuff???

Yoga

Meditation

Walks

Nature

Etc.

Highkey hate the way "go to therapy" has become the blanket advice for anything mental health related.

For one, you don't know if the OP is already in therapy, or can't go for some reason they aren't disclosing here.

Secondly, talking about mental health is fucking exhausting. (source: has mental health) Let's not slap everyone with a more drastic solution without giving easier-feeling options.

Everyone knows therapy is an option, so suggesting it with nothing else isn't that helpful.