#gbf baal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

djeesperate · 4 months ago

Text

Finding Comfort

Word count: 1675

C/W: Minor Relink spoilers?, I refer to him as "Siete" instead of "Seofon" sorry, Siete being toxic, unrequited love. Inspired by the fate episode the funny blond man has in Relink.

“Isn’t that worth something?”

Siete has been mulling over his thoughts ever since his silver-haired acquaintance spoke his mind.

Id was socially awkward and struggled to understand most things that weren't combat-related. So when he expressed envy over the captain and the Eternal leader's relationship, Siete was at a loss.

“What are you doing out here?”

He snaps back to reality at the sound of their voice—speak of the devil. They stood in front of him in sleepwear, the moonlight from above making their tousled hair shine beautifully amidst the damaged deck of the Grandcypher. Siete exhaled from his nose, “Mulling over work stuff. No breaks for someone as in-demand as moi, I'm afraid.” He lied. “What about you? Thought you'd be fast asleep after the party was done. Your beauty sleep's important, y’know!”

He watched them roll their eyes, unimpressed. “I'm looking for Gawain,” of course you were, “He stepped out of the party for a bit before going back in.” So that's where you went, “Wanted to check up on him before I sleep. Have you seen him?”

“No.”

“Huh… maybe he's in the pantry. He didn't eat much after all,” you knew his eating portions now? He watched you turn back to the door and walked away without looking at him. “Whatever. Thanks anyway.”

“Hey.”

When you stopped to look back at him, it gave him just a little bit of hope. “I’m proud to be by your side. Wouldn't have chosen anyone else but you.” He said, earnestly, hoping his words would reach you this time.

It vanished the instant those wrinkles appeared, brows scrunched, eyes narrowed, those lips that made the most perfect smile pull downwards. “Ew, what was that for?”

“Ahaha… kidding~” Not one blade in his vast collection was sharp enough compared to the cut in his heart right now. If he were to be stabbed by all the swords in existence, it wouldn't hurt as much as watching your back turned, leaving him atop the ship without saying goodbye.

The alcohol tasted horrible the day after, nothing Ladiva said truly reached him. The distance he was from reality started to grow further and further—her words that once brought comfort long ago, muffled by the black abyss between them now.��

“Oh, hello, dear! It's rare to see you here.” The chime atop the door rang as someone entered.

“Trust me, I'd drop by more often if it were as empty as it is right now.” An irritating voice came from behind the blond man, footsteps coming closer to the bar. “I have no clue why that one guy insists on talking to me, but I never pictured him to be as chatty as he is.”

Ladiva laughs, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh, come now, Baal means well. He tells me you have a good voice.”

“Nonsense. The closest thing to music I've ever done was when the captain made me sing them ‘Happy Birthday’,” The knight from Dalmore took the seat next to Siete, “Barely in tune, I will add.”

“That's nice,” Poison spilled out from Siete's mouth, words laced with sarcasm as he butted into the conversation.

Yet, the man didn't notice this and raised a brow. “I don't understand. What was nice?”

He never understands, “Don’t think too hard about it, man.” Siete downs his drink, ignoring the disapproving look Ladiva was giving him. “I just say things randomly. A quirk, really.”

“I see… I suppose eccentricity is the norm in this crew,” don't make him laugh, “Thank you though, I think.”

“Don't mention it.” Siete smirks, setting his mug down before standing up to leave. “I've had my fill Ladiva~ Thanks again for everything.”

Whatever was going through her mind, Ladiva didn't say anything. The concern in her eyes was blocked out of his view—he didn't want to acknowledge that he was causing her distress.

“Ladiva, are you alright?” Gawain spoke up. He blinked in surprise when he felt Siete's hand land on his shoulder, squeezing firmly.

“You have no idea how lucky you are.” Siete looked ahead, not even sparing him a glance as he let go, leaving the knight alone and confused.

“... Is everything okay with him?” He looked at Ladiva, unsure of what he walked into.

She smiled, but Gawain could tell she was pained by something. “It's nothing, dear.” Her voice was almost inaudible, extremely saddened. “Everyone has their struggles. I hope you are doing fine, though.”

“Oh, I've been well.” He lights up, smiling genuinely, “My sister has expressed her interest in fashion to me recently. It's nice to hear her talk about it so excitedly…”

How funny, the Sun is out and summer is in, but it felt cold wherever Siete went.

Atop a hill in a peaceful area he scouted, he sat cross-legged, leaning back on his hands as his head faced the skies. His eyes closed, allowing himself to feel the breeze of the wind and hear the rustling of the grass below him.

They were supposed to spar with him here an hour ago, but he guessed they probably cancelled on him to do other things. Again.

“They’re out with Sir Gawain’s sister.”

Siete opens his eyes, looking at the unwanted guest. He didn't say anything, irritation showing on his face.

“... You're not thinking of killing me again, are you?”

“I wonder, Id, I wonder~”

Id frowned, continuing to stand as he looked down at the sulking mess of a man. “You're being passive-aggressive,” he noted, “Such tone is meant to convey sarcasm. Elmott taught me this.”

“Do you want a gold star?”

“Siete.”

“Just go away. I'm not in the mood to talk right now.” Siete motioned him to leave as if Id were a dog. He laid down and closed his eyes again, trying to find peace.

He heard Id sit down next to him. “You're temperamental for a leader. I wonder how the other members of the Eternals see you.”

“You can ask them yourself if you're so curious about it.”

“Why are you the way you are? Why so bothered by Sir Gawain’s relationship with the captain?” Crimson eyes studied the blond’s face. “I told you before that your bond with the captain is special. Is that really not worth anything to you?”

“Get lost.”

“I am lost. I don't understand why you're isolating yourself like this.” Id sighed in frustration.

Moments passed, and Siete spoke after contemplating his words—whether or not he should open his mouth. It's not like he enjoys being petty either, you know? But he can't help himself when he's being treated like trash. “How envious you are of me, I'm exponentially envious of him.”

“... Is that so?” Id was deep in thought. “I suppose it's comforting to know that even you can feel inadequate.”

“I'm glad you feel better about yourself.”

“You're still being sarcastic…” Id sighed. “Is there no way for me to help you at all?” He watched Siete open an eye, the teal trying to burn his red ones, “I am… Mr Fix It after all.”

“How cute,” Siete sat up, leaning closer to him. “So what's the fix for my achy breaky heart, hm? What's your million rupee solution?”

Id backs up, uncomfortable by the staredown he's receiving. “I… don't know.” He admits. “But I'd rather keep you close while finding an answer than leave you to your devices. You would sooner behead that man than face your troubles head-on.”

“Now that's a good idea.”

“That is not a good idea.” Id frowns again, “What is this obsession with murder? Aren't you supposed to be a hero of sorts?”

“It's not an obsession. It was only you.” Siete corrected, “and I was just joking, obviously.”

“Nothing is obvious with you…” Id shook his head, choosing to ignore the part where the Eternal leader admitted wanting Id dead in the past. “Always saying things with hidden meanings, always saying the opposite of what you mean. Maybe if you weren't so cryptic, the captain would've reciprocated by now.”

Siete merely laughed at the suggestion, as if it were the funniest joke ever told. Id just watched with scrutiny, trying his best to decipher his mannerisms. Siete never had a mother, but he felt as if she would've sounded like Id at this very moment.

“Then I suppose you don't want me to fix it. I'll take my leave.” The albino man moved to stand back up but stopped when he felt a hand on his wrist.

In a kneeling position, Id looked to Siete, sitting quietly staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. He searched his eyes for some kind of meaning to this strange behaviour but found nothing. “Why are you holding my arm like it's glass?”

“...I don't know.”

“Does that mean you don't know, or you know but refuse to elaborate?” He raised his brow, patience running a little thin.

“Don't ruin the moment.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“How can you expect to woo the ladies being this dense…” Siete shook his head, sighing dramatically.

“But you're not a lady… what is happening right now…” Truth be told, the only reason Id sat back down was because his brain was working overtime trying to understand the situation he just landed himself in.

“Just stay. Please.”

Nothing more was said. No words were exchanged past that point.

Id doesn't fully understand, but he stays anyway. Was it weird that somehow, it felt comforting? That was how he thinks the air feels. Siete doesn't seem bitter anymore and genuinely looks cheerful again (maybe he should ask Elmott what significance “moments” meant to women…).

He sighed, this man really was the most difficult to comprehend. First, he tells him to leave him alone yet now he's telling him to stay. He hasn't let go of his arm either. Id wonders if there's some case of split personality going on inside Siete's mind.

“Look, Id! It's Vyrn stuck in a pumpkin!”

“Er, that's a cloud.”

“Id…”

Who would've thought clashing personalities somehow make good friends?