#i be thinking this anon no like this situation so much

[always-just-red]

Hi!

Can I request a fic where the reader starts realizing they have feelings for Sylus and gets so nervous around him that they can’t resonate anymore?

And Sylus thinks that the reader is scared/disgusted by him again so the reader is forced to confess their feelings to not create a bigger misunderstanding

Thanks!

- 🌻

The moment I got this request I was like HELLO— sunflower anon, you just get me 😌 Anyway! Am back from my break and I hope everyone’s ready for some Vulnerable Sylus™️, because I have got him hot to go!!!

A Gentle Touch

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.

Genre: Angst + Fluff (& some Luke and Kieran shenanigans because they were not feeling the angst)

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, injury detail, mentions of possible trauma, humour, some intimacy at the end 😘, Luke and Kieran are having the time of their lives

| Word count: 3.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

If you asked, Sylus would tell you.

You catch glimpses: dark, sharp flickers of something monstrous, maybe even infernal. Blood, everywhere— thick in your mouth and your nose. All over your hands. You feel it, too: a yearning, so intense, and you couldn’t say whom it belongs to. Then there’s death. Searing white. Bottomless black. In the middle of all of it— crimson eyes like dying stars.

Every time you resonate, it envelops you, is laid out bare before you: a nightmare you’re caught in the centre of but forced to watch from outside. An other, a spectator. It’s a show, just for you, but it isn’t quite ready yet; someone’s still rehearsing their lines.

If you asked, Sylus would let you see it. It’s a power you have over him, a constant, self-sacrificial: you want it? It’s yours. So you don’t ask. You never ask. Like words mumbled in a haze of wine or sleep, you let him hold onto it. His hands are open, yes, but you don’t have to take.  

Besides, you have your own, world-changing little secret, and he’s going to see it too.

He’s slumped in front of you, blood sheeting down from two bullet wounds just below his shoulder. He catches his breath— one, two— before he peeks over this desk you’ve overturned for cover. You should be peeking over as well: should be counting your enemies, scouting your next move.

Instead, you’re looking at him and holding back. One minute ago you had no idea where he was, how he was, and it’d been eating away at you from the moment you got separated. Now he’s with you— he found you— and the relief is desperate, gushing; it has to escape somehow. It drips: forbidden daydreams, one after the other, like…

How you want to hold his face and urge him to speak so you can just hear his voice.

How you want to press a hand to his heart and feel the beat of it beneath your palm.

How you want to kiss him, want to taste the blood on his split lip, because this is your story, isn’t it? Messy. Violent. Defiant.

He looks at you, that same blood carving a thin line through the pale of his chin. It drops down onto his silk shirt. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” he grins. His best guess: “This is a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, hmm?”

It’s a fine mess he got you into. “Yeah.” You make yourself look away from him, glancing over the desk to assess how much worse the situation is getting. The answer? Significantly. 

Sylus chuckles, drawing your eyes back as he reloads his gun. “Don’t say I never treat you to anything, sweetie.” He fires a few rounds towards the encroaching danger.

Voices go up across the room. Gunshots ring out, louder. Sylus slinks back down, wincing, holding his shoulder, and his fingers turn red. He deftly undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, peeling it back so he can examine his wounds. His jaw clenches; the punctures aren’t closing over fast enough. It’s too much blood, too quick, and he’ll—

He catches you staring. There’s a sheepish sincerity in the way he smiles, as honest and vulnerable as the holes in his shoulder. He holds out his hand. “Time for an energy storm, don’t you think?”

“No,” you snap. “Save your energy. We might need it later.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow perks up in interest, and it’s just like him to spot a double entendre in the midst of all this chaos.

But you’re staring at his chest through his open shirt and you’re such a hypocrite. “Things might get worse,” you explain.

“Worse?” he repeats as bullets fly over your heads, striking the wall across from you and scattering plaster over the floor. He watches it crumble. “Paint me a picture, kitten— what would worse look like?”

Even Rafayel might struggle with that particular creative prompt.

“Come on,” Sylus insists, using the excuse of your silence to push his hand closer to you. “Now’s not the time to play coy.”

“Sylus, I really don’t—”

He grasps your hand, his fingers locking with yours and squeezing tight. Your heart jumps at the touch. It strangles the protests in your throat and stays there, strung up by anticipation and dread.

You’re feeling so much that it takes you too long to realise nothing is happening.

Sylus’s eyes are fixed on your connected palms. He’s squinting, concentrating, and when that doesn’t work— when your hand is paling in the vice of his— he loosens his grip, his thumb feathering over yours as he mumbles a quick: “forgive me.”

He doesn’t let you go. You can still feel him, all of him, imploring to just let him in.

You don’t, and his eyes meet yours, for a moment— like another bullet has bitten through his flesh. Your mouth drops in fake surprise; you’re always so innocent when you pull a trigger on him.

This time, there’s no wound you can push your hands against in a guilty effort to staunch the bleeding. You have to apologise. Have to stitch it up with every word you’ve been guarding, saving, and it isn’t supposed to be like this. “Sylus, it’s not what you think. I—”

Something metal clatters across the floor behind you, bounces like a failing, stuttering heartbeat, then explodes.

…

“Good news, boss! We figured it out!”

Sylus groans, looking up from a report he’s not really been reading as two figures crash into his room. Not good, he thinks, as Kieran flings himself into the nearest armchair. Whatever this is, it’s not good. Luke settles on its arm.

With a sigh, Sylus removes his reading glasses. They stay, hooked on a finger, as he pushes his hair back like he can feel a headache coming on. His eyes flutter closed, and when they open, the twins are both leaning forward, bristling with excitement.

“Ask us,” Luke whispers in a way that makes Sylus think he might not realise he’s speaking out loud.

Another sigh. “What did you figure out?”

Kieran whips out a tired-looking notepad from behind his back. He clears his throat— “ahem!”— then starts to read: “Reasons why Miss Hunter was not able to resonate with you. Number one...”

“How did you find out about—”

“Sshhhh,” Kieran interrupts, putting a finger to where his lips should be. Sylus’s eyes widen in indignation, and Luke comes to his twin’s rescue, silently indicating Mephisto with a few tips of his head. The crow shrinks down on his perch.

“Number one,” Kieran repeats, matter-of-factly. “Your height.”

“My… height?”

Luke nods solemnly as Kieran continues: “humanityandconquer.com/power-dynamics describes tallness as a ‘natural advantage when trying to dominate a smaller individual.’ You are very tall. Try crouching when you speak to Miss Hunter.” He glances over the top of his notepad. “If you approach her at her level, she’ll know you mean no—”

“Nope. Next,” Sylus dismisses, waving his hand in a fast-forward motion. That headache is coming on.

“Reason two,” Kieran acquiesces, gaze falling, “your eyes.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake—”

“They’re red,” the twin pushes on, “and red means danger. In fiction, red eyes are symony—” he stops, spells it out— “synonymous with the supernatural. Vampires especially. Plus, lots of bad stuff is red.” He’s going off-script. “Blood. Fire. Sunburns.”

“Sunburns are pink,” Luke muses.

“No, like, bad sunburns, y’know?”

“Oh right, yeah.” There’s a shrug of agreement.

Sylus’s will to live is hanging by a thread, and they really don’t have a care in the world, do they? It must be nice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for your little investigation. If that’s all, I would—”

“Reason three!” Luke chirps, wiggling the same number of fingers, and Sylus’s head lolls back against the sofa.

“Miss Hunter is struggling to separate this version of you from your first impression,” Kieran says.

Sylus looks up. “What?”

Luke is rubbing his hands together eagerly, like they’ve finally gotten to the good stuff. “Well, you remember how you and Miss Hunter met,” his twin explains.

Words won’t do it justice, apparently, because the man begins to act it out. He reaches to grip Luke by the throat and Luke pretends to choke, fingers clawing at the grasp. Then Kieran stands up— throws Luke down into the chair and pins him there with his foot before snatching up his hand.

“See what I mean?” Kieran asks over his shoulder. “I mean, it must have been pretty traumatic. You kinda tore her away from everything she knew. Forced her to use her power, et cetera, et cetera.”

Sylus has gone quiet. He’s vaguely aware that the twins are moving, saying more, but he can’t hear it. He feels sick. Then he feels something different: someone poking at his arm. A hand is waved in front of his face, but he doesn’t react.

“Oh, we so got it,” Luke whispers conspiratorially behind him.

“Hell yeah we did!” Kieran whispers back.

There’s the sound of them high-fiving, and it spurs Sylus into action. He’s up out of his seat, out of their shadows, and then the door as well— long before they can stop him. He needs to breathe. He needs the cold night air and the quiet, and his strides drive him towards it, but not fast enough.

He’s about to use his Evol. To let himself evaporate so he can be whole again somewhere else, somewhere easier, but then he stops. He’s by an open door, glancing in at a decadent living room, where you’re sprawled over a black leather couch. This isn’t easier. This hurts, and it hurts more as he forces himself to close the distance between you.

You’re still asleep. You’ve been unconscious ever since that grenade went off, and it’s for the best, really; getting out of that place was… messy. Sylus’s shoulder still aches, the blood on his shirt now crusty and dark. Some of it’s his. Some of it’s yours.

He’s not sure why he’s still wearing it.

The twins did a pretty good job of patching you up, but— looking over you— he would have done better. It was his role, after all. His duty to you, or maybe just a reason to get close to you. He couldn’t do it today. Couldn’t touch you, no matter how noble the intention. And a little part of him was glad for the excuse; his hands always shake.

A blanket is half on your legs, half on the floor, and Sylus stoops to collect the edge of it. He draws it over your shoulder, adjusting it around your arms— at rest by your face. He’s close, now, and he…

He can’t help himself. When has he ever been able to help himself? He lifts his hand slowly; he wants to kiss you. Even though your blood is still drying on his shirt and it’s all his fault.

…

Someone’s hand is on your face.

The touch draws you back into consciousness, tender, careful, then suddenly sharp. “Ah,” you hiss. “Sylus?” Always first on your mind and your lips.

“Not even close,” quips the shadow above you.

“Kieran?”

“Bingo.”  

You use your hand to block some of the room’s light as you open your eyes— a birdlike silhouette taking shape through the gaps in your fingers. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, teeth clenching as the twin applies a thin strip of surgical tape to a cut on your cheek. “Is he ok?”

“Sheesh, relax. He’s fine,” Kieran tuts, then seems to reconsider, “well…”

“He’s brooding,” chimes a voice from behind you. “Out on the balcony.” Luke.

You rub at your eyes, still drowsy with sleep. “Why’s he brooding? What did you do?”

“Told him he traumatised you,” they speak in unison.

“What?! Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Kieran shrugs. “That’s why you and boss couldn’t, you know…” He twinkles his fingers.

Resonate? Ugh. You slide your feet onto the floor, sitting up straight for a solid second before you bury your face in your hands, omitting a few, pained whines. This is such a mess, and it only got worse while you were asleep. First that stupid grenade, now the twins.

A hand pats at your back. “There, there,” Luke soothes.

You turn to glare at him. His hand retreats.

Forget it; you have to find Sylus.

…

You step out onto the balcony, head full of apologies you’ve had all of a minute to prepare, and it isn’t enough. It felt fitting, in the middle of a shootout— everything was allowed to be frantic and from the heart. Here it’s calm, and if you ruin something— break anything— it’s going to be obvious. There’s no other violence to blame.

Sylus must hear you join him, but he doesn’t turn. He’s leant forwards against the rail, one arm folded upon it, the other outstretched: sporting a glass of liquor that hangs from the tips of his fingers and that he swirls gently, his gaze far away.

The twins really weren’t kidding.

“Hey,” you greet, and it’s sort of pathetic, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Sylus returns, “are you—” he looks back at you over his shoulder— “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “I mean, the twins are giving me a headache, but that’s, like, standard.”  

He smiles back: a courtesy. You’ve seen him grin through almost every type of pain imaginable, but this one is new. Think about what Luke and Kieran said. What he must be thinking. “Sylus, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he stops you, turning his body towards you. “Honestly, I’d… rather you didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he chuckles, masking a deeper hurt as he lifts his glass to his lips. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You are; you hold his gaze as he takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink. He smirks, surrenders at once and admits: “I’m really not that strong, sweetie. That’s why.”

“What if I want to explain?”

The smirk falters, and his eyes make their own, sad, silent confession. If you want to explain? He’ll let you. He’ll stand here, listening patiently while you call him a thing of nightmares. While you break him, bit by tortuous bit, by reminding him just how frightening he is.

He turns back to the view, shrugs, but none of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Go on, then.”

“Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t scare me, you know.”

His hand tightens around his glass. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me,” he grimaces. “I don’t need it. I know what I am. I’d just… forgotten what I was to you.”

Your captor. Your monster. Except that was a lifetime ago and he’s been so many more things to you since then. Tell him. “Sylus…”

“I felt it,” he snaps, because your voice is still so reluctant, and he’s going to save you the trouble. “When we tried to resonate, I felt it— your fear— just as deep as it used to be. I heard that same voice in your head, the one saying you wouldn’t let me in, couldn’t let me in, so don’t tell me I don’t scare you, sweetie.” The term of endearment tastes sour, you can tell. “I know how you feel. I know—”

“I like you, Sylus.”

“…What?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “I like you,” you say again, and your heart is beating too quickly for eloquence, so you just have simplicity. “You don’t scare me at all, Sy. I care about you. A lot.”

Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. There’s no confidence. No smile or drawn-out breath of relief. He sets his glass aside on the railing, gaze leaving yours for a moment, and you get the feeling he needs that moment as much as he needed the drink itself.

Then he looks at you again. Asks in a way that makes you ache: “do you mean it?”

Look at him. Your throat stings. “Of course I mean it.”

“Say it again.”

“I mean it, Sylus. I care about—”

His lips are on yours and the rest of your words are lost in his mouth. You, you say with the way you kiss him back, soft and slow, like you’re relishing something that might slip away. You, you insist— your hand finding his face, his hair, as he kisses you deeper, and you, you, you, when he doesn’t stop.

“Is this alright?” he murmurs, his fingers around your chin and his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Mmm,” you confirm, equally breathless.

He laughs as he withdraws a little, still caressing your face like you’re something of a dream. “You’re not making this easy, kitten.”

“Worried you might traumatise me again?”    

It's a low blow. He scoffs. “Luke and Kieran said—”

“Luke and Kieran once bought arts-and-crafts feathers for Mephisto because they thought the colours would make him, and I quote: more aerodynamic.” You pinch his ear playfully. “I can’t believe you let them get to you.”

“I know,” he groans, lifting your hand so he can press chaste kisses along the line of your knuckles. “Not my finest moment.” He guides your palm to his cheek— leans into it as he leans into an idea. “They said you hated my eyes,” he pouts.

You can’t help giggling. He frowns. “I mean— aww, no,” you scramble, but you’re still laughing. You can’t stop. “Your eyes are… yeah. So pretty.”

“You had to think about it?”

“There were just too many adjectives, y’know? I was struggling to—”

He kisses you again, saving you: crushing your laughter with his own, lightheaded smile. His hand finds yours as his lips move against you, your fingers interlocking as you resonate— chasing an instinct, a need to be impossibly closer— and you let him see everything. Feel everything.

It’s a mad tangle of opposites. Heaven. Hell. Life. Death. You don’t know what any of it means, but it’s yours and it’s his and it doesn’t scare you half as much as it should. Sylus breaks your kiss. He pushes his forehead against your own with a sigh of contentment, and it doesn’t scare him, either.  

Savour each second. Think of some better adjectives, while you still have the time.

He’s going to earn every single one.

…

✨Epilogue✨

Inside, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that separate the room from the balcony, Luke and Kieran stand, looking awfully smug.   

“Mission accomplished,” Kieran nods, flipping closed his notepad, aptly titled: 101 Ways To Get Boss Laid! (There are only, currently, fifty-two.)

Luke’s arms are folded. “We’re like, the best wingmen ever.”

Kieran is silent. He repeats carefully: “Wingmen. Wingmen.”

The beaks of the crow masks gradually turn to face one-another. There’s a mutual epiphany, and both twins almost fall over laughing.

[deathbxnny]

hello!! capitano, ororon and wriothesley with a teen!reader who is like firefly?

Male Genshin Characters with a Firefly!Teen!Reader | Capitano, Ororon, Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Hello Anon!! Thank you very much for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, reader has a chronical illness, talks of potential death of reader, angst, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

He knew firsthand how cruel the world can be, and you confirmed that for him more than anything else. You were a lively kid he had taken under his wing as a toddler, and even from a young age, he could tell that your health wasn't the best. It only got worse over time until you were left unable to walk or really move much on your own. But what truly broke his heart deep down was your will to live in the face of certain doom. Death wasn't an option in your mind, and you refused to let it take ahold of you.

Capitano, therefore, did his best to be as supportive as he can be. In a way, he sees you two as parallels of eachother, both cursed with a disease that's rotting you from the inside out and yet, here you were, still fighting for what you think is right. For a chance to live a life worth staying for. He knew he was too far gone, however, and therefore, just put all his energy in keeping you alive instead. He made sure you had the best doctors in all of Snezhnaya at your sides at all times.

And when you just wanted to take a moment with him to relax somewhere in peace, he'll grant you that wish as well. Capitano knows that realistically, your days are more than numbered... but if supporting you until the very end is what makes you feel better, then so be it.

》ORORON

You were a couple years younger than him and were taken in by him when he found you near dying on a dirt road. He initially wanted to give you to the village, but when you refused to leave him after he nurtured you back to health, he simply kept you in his home as a younger sibling. Citlali made sure to practically visit every other day to check up on you, however, as she doesn't entirely trust her grandson with your deteriorating health alone. She knew it was too much for even him and therefore made sure to teach him everything he knew. Especially when you stopped being able to walk. It was clear that Ororon was hurting with you and was deep down desperate too keep you alive one way or another, despite the grave situation.

But what pained him the most was the bright look in your eyes, even when you're in major agony. Your body was betraying your excitement for life. It was terrible, and yet, he didn't let you notice how bad he had it. If you were happy and content with him here when you took your last breath, then he had done everything he could have. And he'd make sure that exactly that would happen.

》WRIOTHESLEY

He wanted you to live a happy, free life ever since he heard about your diagnosis. Wriothesley had taken you under his wing when you arrived as a young preteen and basically treated you as his own. Sigewinne kept an eye on you at all times as well, practically being glued to your side as she monitors the progression of your illness very closely. The Duke knew, however, that you wouldn't live for long after you weren't able to walk anymore. Your body was giving you up, but he refused to do so himself. Seeing you so bright and optimistic despite everything just motivated him to do better too.

He'll try his best to make your time in the fortress as enjoyable as possible. He will share his tea, crack some jokes, and watch the ocean life through the glass with you. Anything for a smile and happy laugh. And even if you're too tired and sick for any of it, he'll still be there to support you in silence. He wants you to know that he'll be there until you do take your last breath... but also, he'll be there to carry you back to the surface above after you do so.

[httpsdana]

heyy! i feel bad for putting in a request hopefully ur not busy. just wanted to say i love ur fics sm and hope u are having a great day.

so today im like not feeling myself and upset and wanted to know if u could make a cubarsi fic with fluff.

so i have a science project and im the only one working and we have so much to do and my friends are stressing me. my parents are helping but yk when it’s too much.

so anything with Pau x reader with Pau comforting her would be amazing tysmm! 💕🫶🏽

Heartfelt Equations~Pau Cubarsi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

I saw the request and knew I should write it quickly. hope u feel better anon, i know u're gonna nail the project 🫶🏻

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

y/n is staring at her laptop screen, eyes glazed over, feeling like she's drowning in numbers, notes, and complicated diagrams.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly, reminding her of the deadline creeping closer, and she can feel the stress building like a storm inside you.

Her group of friends was supposed to be helping, but one by one, they’d left her to handle everything alone. Her family offered what help they could, but it was clear that science projects weren’t their strong suit. She was in this alone, and it was overwhelming.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar knock at the door, followed by the gentle creak as it opens. Before she can even turn around, a pair of warm arms wrap around her shoulders from behind.

“Hey, mi pequeña científica,” Pau’s soft voice fills the room, his chin resting on top of her head. (my little scientist)

“You look like you’re about two seconds away from throwing this laptop out the window.” he joked, sensing her overwhelmed situation.

y/n let out a sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Two seconds? I think I’m already there,” she muttered, closing her eyes to keep the frustration at bay. “This project is impossible, and none of my friends have helped at all. I’m just… I don’t even know where to start anymore.”

Pau gently spins her chair to face him, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looks down at her with a soft smile. “Let me see this mess, then. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving until we get this done together, okay?”

She looked at him, a flicker of hope sparking in her chest.

“You mean it? You don’t have to—” she started

“Of course I mean it,” he interrupts, pulling her up from the chair and guiding her to the kitchen table where all her papers are scattered. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my amazing, hardworking girl drown in science notes?”

y/n let out a laugh at his words, feeling some of the tension slip away. “Alright, you asked for it. Welcome to the chaos,” she said gesturing to the mess of papers, half-finished calculations, and diagrams that don’t even make sense to her anymore.

Pau grins, sitting beside hee and picking up a stray page. “Wow, you really went all out here. Let’s see, we’ve got… a million equations and some pretty impressive doodles on the side of this page.” He points to a little sketch she'd absentmindedly drawn of a sun with sunglasses.

she blushed, reaching to snatch the paper from him, but he holds it out of reach, laughing. “No way! I’m keeping this as evidence of your creative genius. But seriously,” he says, his expression softening, “you’re incredible for even attempting this all on your own. Now, let’s break it down together, alright?”

With a deep breath, she nods and explains the project to him, pointing out all the sections that still need to be done. Pau listens carefully, nodding along, and as soon as she's finished explaining, he grabs a pencil and a fresh piece of paper.

“Alright, my love. You take care of the data, and I’ll start on the graphs. Let’s tackle this step by step.” he said, giving her an encouraging smile.

They both dive into the work, and it’s like a weight has been lifted. Pau’s presence grounds her, his little jokes making her smile as he meticulously draws out her graphs and even colors them in with highlighters he found in her pencil case. Every now and then, he looks up at her with a grin.

“You know, you’re gonna owe me a big thank-you kiss for all this coloring,” he teases, holding up a bright yellow bar he’s highlighted.

“Oh, trust me,” she laughs, “I’ll give you all the kisses you want after this.”

“Deal,” he says, his eyes twinkling as he reaches over and plants a quick kiss on her forehead.

Hours pass, and the project finally starts coming together. With one last click, y/n saves the final document, and an overwhelming sense of relief washes over her. She slumps back in her chair, exhaling deeply.

“It’s… it’s done,” she whispers, almost in disbelief.

Pau immediately pulls her into his arms, lifting her off the chair and twirling her around. “I told you we’d finish it. Look at you, mi genio. You did it” (my genius)

Giggling, she wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he spins her. When he finally sets her down, they're both breathless and laughing. Pau cups her face, brushing his thumbs gently over her cheeks.

“You know, I’m really proud of you. You didn’t give up, even when it got tough,” he says softly, his gaze filled with admiration. “You’re amazing.”

A blush rises to her cheeks as she smiles up at him. “Thank you, Pau. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Of course you could have,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to her nose. “But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Now…” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How about we celebrate?”

y/n snuggled into his embrace, feeling the last remnants of stress melt away. “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?”

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to think, “how about ice cream? The biggest sundae we can find?”

She laughs gently, looking up at him with a grin. “You know the way to my heart.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I know, hermosa. And for the record,” he murmurs, brushing his lips across hers, “I love you. Stress and all.”

Her heart fluttered as she reaches up, winding her arms around his neck. “I love you too, my little science assistant.”

He laughs, pulling her in for another kiss, deeper and slower this time. The world feels calm and steady, and in his arms, everything feels perfectly, wonderfully right.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

You're right about the US election! People need to read the room. As I saw on my fyp, we're seeing the return of the far right with our own eyes, and the situation in Europe isn't pretty either. Have people forgotten that UNFORTUNATELY the US has set itself up as the " owner " of the world? The ceasefire in Palestine? The sanctions on Cuba? Sending ammunition to Israel? I don't think many people are aware of the US's power over “third world” countries also, people are no longer afraid to be racist, to make apologies for Nazism and facism. we are seeing a large generation of young conservatives growing up, who don't study history. we are seeing the genocide of the Palestinian people, who by ONE VOTE did not have a ceasefire.

yes, unfortunately, the election results in the us seemed quite inevitable if you look at everything on a global scale. america may appear an extreme example, but it's not that far off from what's happening in many parts of the world, where women's rights, minority rights, religious freedoms, and more are being eroded.

the fact that a lot of countries are still sending arms to israel to enable its genocide, as you mentioned, is just another symptom. and how many countries have spoken out against the genocide in the democratic republic of the congo or sudan happening right now? but no, as long as we keep getting materials for our new phones and vapes, who cares, right? 🙄

immigration was a major talking point in the us election, but how many of us have heard our colleagues and neighbours or even family members making racist statements about too many immigrants in our own communities. with the economy as is and many of our peer group unable to even buy homes (remember the earlier protests in barcelona?), how much longer until we go down that path? wake up!

i'm so sorry you are dealing with that in your life, anon. and i hope it gets better for you and you are able to change your conditions! 🙏

but i also find that people in other parts of europe (countries that pride themselves as 'liberal, western democracies' 🙄) create these smug, insular bubbles where they turn a blind eye to what is happening right outside their door, like the race-based riots in the uk we saw earlier this year to the palestinian/gaza protestors being beaten and arrested in germany to even right-wing nazis taking advantage of the dana in spain to try and assert their dominance. this behaviour is all around us and it's only getting worse. 😔

so again, we need to stay vigilant and be very careful about the messaging that we are consuming at home, too!

[choccy-milky]

A few months back, I asked if it was okay to write using Clora and Seb. Finished the work - thought I'd lost it on my hard drive and a virus scan located it.

Not sure if it's sad or happy, but the basic premise of it is Clora getting frustrated/upset at Sebastian and Sebastian comforting her, Sebastian getting upset at a predicament Clora's in and Clora comforting him, and them both getting frustrated/upset and having to comfort each other.

If you'd rather I didn't post it, that's fine too, but just wanted to test the waters and double check that you'd be okay with it if I gifted it to you via AO3, or see if you wanted a sneak peak of it before posting it.

OMG im so happy you were able to find it and recover the work you did!!😭🙏 AND YES OF COURSE YOU CAN POST IT AAA I CANT WAIT TO READ IT!! you can DM it to me first if you want, but i also dont mind if you post it straight away on ao3!! IM LOOKING FORWARD TO IT SM AAARGHHHA💖💖💖IT SOUNDS ANGSTY WE LOVE THE HURT/COMFORT I HOPE MY HEART CAN HANDLE IT🥺💖💖TY AGAIN FOR USING CLORA AND SEB AND TAKING THE TIME TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THEM😭

@sunshine-goblin AAA THANK YOU!!! im honoured its your fav fanfic AND ALSO THE LONGEST YOUVE READ BAHAHAA fr, when you say its as long as four books in lotr it rly makes me realize how insane i am😃👍 aw IM GLAD I COULD INSPIRE YOU TO DRAW MORE AND WRITE AS WELL😭 I was curious so i creeped you and everyone go look at their HL blog @sunshines-legacy your MC is so cute and so is your art🥹💖 as for tips on writing a longfic and brainstorming and motivation and stuff, my motivation was my brainrot and unhappiness with the canon story/ending LMAOO, and looking at the story of the game and playing around with what i was unhappy with/what i WISHED could have happened instead, was a lot easier than just coming up with plotlines from scratch. but something i highly recommend is just OUTLINING and making a timeline, one of my fav parts of writing was just putting on some cafe ambience in the background and doing stream of conscious type word documents where id just barf ideas and then worry about making it pretty later....like look at how many versions of the same chapter i have BAHAHA or like different renditions bc i couldnt decide if id wanna keep a scene/what order, so id make a timeline and keep smoothing things out until i was happy with it and whatnot

brainstorming is defs my fav part of the process and the most helpful part to me. just getting a blank document and writing stuff you want to happen without worrying about how it connects to the story, and then a lot of the times as i was doing that id just keep going and it would kinda tie itself together/id come up with a solution as i was writing / once the ideas kept flowing. so basically : TIMELINES AND OUTLINES I VERY MUCH RECOMMEND, but very low pressure and barebones ones. for example, this is what my outlines/brainstorming look like

its honestly just me talking to myself LMAO, and a lot of the time ill interject and be like "OH YEAH AND THEN THIS CAN HAPPEN" as the ideas come while im writing BAHAHA. its a super fun process and honestly nothing feels better than just getting hit with that flash of inspo, and since its all very low effort theres no pressure to actually write well and its just a chill fun time AND GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR OWN PROCESS / WRITING💖💖💖it can be difficult but HOPE U HAVE FUN TOO💖💖

@a-little-lysdexic WAIT REALLY?? LMFAOO OMG THATS CRAZY....SAME BRAIN...🤝🤝...that would trip me up so much if i were you omg BAHHAHA but aside from having similar tastes in names, IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY ART AS WELL, TYY💖💖💖

THANK YOUUU im glad you're liking it!!! and that its taking over your life BAHAHA💖💖 the video you're thinking of was by @silverxstardust for chapter 13 of my fic, and you can watch the video here! (AND TY AGAIN TO SILVERXSTARDUST FOR DOING THIS!)

[tea-and-secrets]

my secret is that i don't think i have a future. i'm turning 18 in a month, maybe by the time you post this ask i will already be 18 for a while, but well, im not there yet. i just finished high school kicking and screaming, literally thought i wouldn't survive it to the point i was considering ending it all several times, but i finished it. now what? now i know i have to go to uni but i also know i won't be able to make it through. i barely scraped by with high school and now my mental health is at an all time low (thought 2021 was my worst year but life is full of surprises) and if college is harder than high school like people say it is, then i'm just royally fucked. it does not help that i don't know who i want to be in life. i'm bilingual and have language skills, but if i study for a translator job then it's just like-- who even needs it? i live in russia. my country is in shambles and so is its economy and relationship with other countries. russia does not need a fucking translator because everybody hates it and for good reason. i can't imagine any future for myself here. when i was a kid it all seemed so clear to me, i would grow up and live with my best friend and be happy and have a job i love. now whenever i think of being grown up my mind just comes up blank. my best friend has probably forgotten that we ever wanted to live together, or they just left the idea behind because it was so childish and unrealistic. i feel like i've been drifting away from them as well as my entire friend group for the past 2 years. i'm autistic, so i just don't see the world the same way they do. i used to love being aroace before i realized it's distancing me from my friends, because now they all have partners or they're yearning for partners or talking about all the sex they've had and i just have nothing to add to the conversation. i don't smoke or drink, so i guess now i'm just not as interesting to hang out with as when we were all 15 and sober. so yeah. i guess i just dont know what im going to do or what's going to happen to me. i've spent the last few years feeling more and more isolated and sinking into depression. if i get into college, i don't know what it's going to do to me, but it makes me fear for my life. if i don't get into it, then i dont know what im going to do at all. maybe my real secret is that i was put on this earth to draw gay people and not like, have a life and relationships. oh well.

.

[deoidesign]

hi, I remembered about the ask about the vampire abilities (time travel, walking in the sun, compulsion) and I need to ask, what are the werewolf abilities?

and Steve own abilities since he can become a giant werebat and being the most convincing conman

Hi there!

So, werewolves can shapeshift into canines of course. But they also heal faster than humans, are stronger than humans, and they have a generally better sense of smell and hearing!

I also like to think they can see in the dark pretty well, too.

Steve specifically has... Well, his stuff is kind of messy. Werewolves and their relation to the moon and its cycle combined with vampires relationship to time led him to being unable to control his time travel, and instead it's forced around the cycle of the moon. This sort of goes with everything. He doesn't need blood to do things, but the werebat is insatiably hungry. It's extremely powerful, but uncontrollable. He doesn't need permission to enter a residence, but he also is incapable of compelling people.

The sort of thematic representation of this is all about his general place in the story as someone who has absolutely no choice, and that frustration of your agency being taken from you.

Him being a 'convincing conman' is a survival tactic, to be honest. It can make the difference between eating and not. With his only real benefit from all this supernatural upheaval being heightened senses, he's just become really observational and is able to read a room and adapt to it immediately. It's about the only thing that's kept him alive, besides the werebat... so really, it's the only thing that's kept the werebat out.

Some of this is admittedly getting into spoiler territory, though, but I do intend to canonize some things! I'm happy to delve more into the specifics once it's happened :)

[dykedvonte]

Ty for answering my asks! Recently, I saw some fanart of the gender bendered crew and it got me curios, how much would the plot change if Jimmy was a woman. I mean, she would still be emotionally abusive (esp to Fem!Curly), but at lest, I guess, the crash would've never happened (?)

Also, her relationship w/ Anya: if she was assulted still, it prolly would've been dissmissed, since it's between 2 women. Or, if Anya is male in this scenario, he couldn't really be able to talk abt it, since society decided that "women can't r*pe men", so it's not serious and he should suck it up. Man, it's just sucks to be Anya in any scenario my poor girl 😭

What do you think? If you have an opinion on that at all, that is

-💀

I think the scenario's where the gender was flipped or any level of gender based intersectionality is expanded makes it so much more complex.

If this is the scenario with fem!Jimmy, it comes with the territory of questionable internalized homophobia. Does Jimmy brush it off in this scenario because she doesn't think lesbian encounters are real ones? Is she struggling with her identity and taking it out on Anya who may be openly queer compared a fem!Curly who is either straight or just not interested in Jimmy? Perhaps it's a sort of weird entitled that can occur in female dominated spaces "We're both girls, I know what you have, it won't matter." It's still is something I don't see Jimmy denying in this scenario, he never really denies it in canon just talks around it with Curly. Here I can see it's less about the pregnancy and more so about the internalized homophobia. Not seeing Anya as anything but an unwanted aspect of her femineity and the allure of it, there's a lot more objectification of both Curly and Anya in this alteration as I would believe feels better thinking of them in that light if they are just fodder in her mind. Guilty pleasures that no longer bring her such. It's a careful situation because I don't want this to fall into predatory lesbian stereotyping, Jimmy is just a person who does not respect other people or their choice, if it conflict with what he wants or perceived is owed.

The idea of Curly having to report it and outing her not only as a rapist but queer and the denial, especially in the case Anya and Curly are both out as she feels a sort of resentment she can't be secure with herself that way. If it is masc!Curly, there could be the jealousy of him being able to actively pursue relationships he wants while she feels she can't, Anya and Curly playfully flirt, its casual but it's something she longs for in the same way she doesn't. She obsesses over Curly because she wishes she could be Curly in a social sense in both aspect male or female Curly.

If it's fem!Jimmy and masc!Anya? It's a much more delicate situation. In this scenario Jimmy gets pregnant. Maybe Anya does a blood test after the incident and finds out Jimmy is pregnant. It's a very sensitive matter because if it's fem!Curly her first assumption is Anya may have done something. That is just the immediate assumptions in cases like this. I think the fact that Anya is telling her would make Curly think it's not that simple, especially since Jimmy isn't brining it up or really caring but everyone reacts differently. Jimmy is pregnant however, and that's a big deal, she'll figure that out eventually on her own but how will she react? Curly knows it won't be good, Anya knows too.

I think the crash is instigated in this scenerio by fem!Curly actually doing more, refusing to sweep it under the rug because she can conceptualize that fear, likely she and Jimmy are the only girls on board. She trusts everyone, well did trust everyone, but it's just something you live with. She can't just live with that double standard but I feel like she really doesn't know how to address it. How does she bring it up to superiors without implicating Anya? What does she do with Jimmy, it still feels like she's catering to Jimmy but now the concern is primarily focused on the life this baby will be born into. If it is born at all. I don't think Jimmy would try to kill Anya in this concept but try to spin the narrative it was mutual up until she got pregnant. Curly doesn't really buy it but it's a lot of processing, a lot more he said she said but what Jimmy is saying just doesn't make sense. It gives Jimmy too much time to really settle with the fact she's pregnant and likely can't support a kid nor wants to give birth out in space. Jimmy feeling like she's being othered from the only other woman could also be a factor, maybe even starting into her thinking Curly is behaving like a "pick-me" for siding with a guy over her. The crash is more spiteful in terms of having to protect herself alone, due to Curly not outright supporting her delusions.

It really adds a certain horror to Jimmy's pregnancy hallucinations because after the crash they are about her, her symptoms the sign of showing. She doesn't want the child either and considering what being pregnant can do to your mental/physical state, especially some of the more negative symptoms, I doubt she is handling it well. A lot of Anya's struggles are with the stigmas around male victims. His body reacted so did he want it? He's gonna be a father and courts likely will make him pay or care for the baby even if they take Anya's side, their world is just like that. Would the other's blame him for not doing more, he is a man after all? Should he be considered lucky a woman was that into him? It's eating away at him because not only does he not feel safe, he actively blames himself.

In the case Curly is still a cis guy, its that weird feeling guys often get when talking about male victims of assault. I don't think he'd victim blame but he likely asks or thinks about how it could've happened, why wouldn't Anya just overpower Jimmy? Maybe he couldn't? Maybe Anya didn't have it in him to strike a woman. He wouldn't. Now he thinks of what he would have done if Jimmy did something like that to him. SImilary to my trans!Curly post, he's wondering if it could've been him. It's likely one of the first times in his life he has to think of that type of vulnerability in terms of himself and other men and against likely his girl best friend. I think that arm pat right before Jimmy crashes the ship would really make him feel weird, not like he'd have the time to really dig into those feeling but y'know WERE GONNA CRASH!!!.

In terms of Jimmy and Curly's specific relationship, it just gets messier if they aren't both guys or girls. There's a lot of misogny on Jimmy's side with fem!Curly. He often points out she's a woman captain or makes a point of her being one of the few independent woman in her field and how certain men hate that. It's insidious but Curly doesn't think about or like to cause she likes to believe Jimmy isn't one of those guys. He can be a bit antiquated, maybe a bit of a pig but no ones perfect! Here a lot of his resentment is more gear toward a woman having that power over him as Captain/filling the typical male roles he fails at. He can't stand that she's above him in almost aspect and he likely takes it out on other women. Similarly, fem!Jimmy and cis Curly is just as bad. It's a fact of not knowing if she wants to be him, wants him or wants to destroy him. It's obsession without anything positive. She feels entitled to his space and life and time and he has a hard time setting up boundaries cause, well, Jimmy's a girl, his bestfriend and it comes with all the stigmas around boygirl best friends. To him it's a sort of oppressive doting, he feels wrong telling her not to pick and like he's being controlling. That's how she'd spin it whenever he'd try to make boundaries with her.

They are still just friends but most people can't tell even if they can tell it's not healthy, in both cases. Either way I feel like if they were opposite genders to each other there would a specific infatuation Jimmy would have with Curly that would be less hidden but sort of unaddressed because the idea of Curly rejecting them would make them lash out in a way Curly may just leave for their safety. It's also Jimmy wouldn't want to be with Curly specifically but just want what would consistently provide/available.

If they are both girls, its envy. It's that sort of hate that someone fits the standards you don't, wanting them to be picked second or crack. She likes to get into Curly's head, point out flaws and act like it's just her being helpful. She wants Curly to be a girls girl but only for her. There's a sort of possessiveness like purposely jeopardizing relationships because why would a man come first? That girl hates me and is a pick me, why are you friends with her still, Curly? Like this is silly but think about how Regina George treats Gretchen Wieners and that's effectively how fem!Curly and fem!Jimmy would work but technically Curly has the sway of Regina.

I believe the crash would always happen. Jimmy would try to escape responsibility or really thinking about what they did in any world, any gender. It's about facing the consequences, losing things he refuses to let go of or having to deal with responsibilities he's not ready for. The switching of sex or gender really doesn't change those core aspects.

[lover-of-mine]

just had an ‘oh shiiiiit’ moment bc what if it isn’t chris who gets hurt playing basketball but actually eddie? looking at the script again from a different perspective, instead of maddie reassuring buck it could be maddie misunderstanding what happened

“it was an accident, [_] knows you didn’t do it on purpose”

‘buck doesn’t say anything’

“evan. you didn’t do it on purpose did you?”

to me that could read like maddie realising like “wait, DID he??” especially bc he says nothing after she first ‘reassures’ him, kinda gives off guilty vibes

maybe buck and eddie argue and buck lashes out and eddie gets hurt? not seriously obviously, just like pushed over and sprains his wrist or something and that’s why buck ‘hasn’t really talked to him’

🤯

Dude, I've been thinking about this but I haven't felt like actually saying anything because people can be mean lol, so I'm so with you on this. He could have very much hurt Eddie. Even more with the tendency this show has of putting buddie in situations in places we will never see again (the fountain, the equine therapy place, the graveyard) so a basketball court could absolutely fit that pattern, and like, things are rocky between them, is very easy to give that impression considering where they are on the season finale, and you take freshly broken up with Buck (if the Natalia is not coming back thing is true) and you create some sort of tension between the two, to have Buck react and do something dumb, and accidentally hurt Eddie, makes sense. Like push him too hard on a play, or throw a ball he would trip on, something that's an accident but could not be if Buck analyzes it enough. And it's really easy to get hurt on a basketball court, I played for like, 7 years, and dude, the dumb ways I hurt myself are ridiculous lol, so like, it could be Eddie and Buck is scared of his reaction. Chris is the easiest to assume, and easiest to hurt, a ball to his crutches and he sprains his ankle or something, but Eddie himself is very much still a possibility. And Eddie dismissing Buck if he tried to help makes more sense than Buck leaving a hurt Chris behind. Unless the situation involves the 3 of them and Eddie is gonna go full overprotective dad because initially it seems worse than it is, let's say there's a moment they think Chris actually broke a bone or something, that lashing out is a reaction we've seen from Eddie before, fear is a powerful things, so even if Eddie doesn't react towards him because he's worring about Chris, Buck assuming Eddie is mad at him could be based on some logic. Also Eddie getting hurt and just saying I'm fine, I'm gonna go home and ice it, and Buck absolutely spiraling that Eddie hates him now is super on brand for Buck.

[httpiastri]

With Kimi getting the mercedes seat for 2025 I'm just thinking about the fact that we'll still see him and Ollie together, like that the only thing I'm really happy about// we had the same hopes and thoughts of Oscar and Logan and where did they end up?

oh good job on ruining my day

[exposingthemonster]

I thought I would be making this at a later date, but I’m going to state it now. This blog is not gonna continue.

I will leave it up as an archive, though I do not know how to deactivate side blogs, so as of now it will remain active until I figure out how to deactivate it.

That being said, through one of the victims, I wished to stand up for I learned about a blog that has actively been actively targeting Cerberus in a harassment campaign.

Do I support the things that Cerberus did over a year ago? No. I find disgusting. However, I am aware that they are trying to recover from this, in which I support the recovery from what they did in the past.

That being said, from what I have seen, the blog has consistently moved the goal post further back after each time it was met. If I am correct, this is a manipulation tactic (please do correct me if I am wrong on this. I do not wish to spread misinformation.)

What I do know is that they have been publicly spreading misinformation about ikamigami knowingly supporting a groomer. If any evidence to support the claim can be provided, then please provide it as it is necessary in cases like this to provide the evidence, whether it be in a Google document or just sharing the screenshots.

But I also know from what I’ve seen is that they used a manipulation tactic when bringing this up, which already makes me cast outs on the claim ikamigami supporting a groomer knowingly, especially when it has been pointed out that said groomer lied to the public

I also want to mention that this account seems to go against the wishes of one of the victims. the victim had mentioned that they aren’t happy with the fact that the document was being used to tear others down & being used as other people‘s moral high grounds.

I will admit I have gotten emotional looking through that blog as they seem to brush off any criticisms or concerns about the victims, when brought up by others, along with reading messages from the victims they made their account for. I am doing my best to keep those emotions separated from this blog, though I do apologize if they have slipped through.

For the victims that I wished to stand for, I apologize as I believe I have unintentionally harmed you. I went into this project, mainly with emotions without thinking of how it would affect my mental health, or a proper understanding of everything that has gone on in the situation. I do believe the blog that I am talking about here is in a similar situation to me when it comes to the creation of our blogs.

With That being said. I thank those who have come here to vent to me, give evidence, or just stood by my side and trying to help others. I’ve let you all down, and I apologize for doing so. And for the victim who had dm’d me, I’m sorry people are using the document from a year ago, along with what you experienced in the past in a way you are uncomfortable with. I do wish I could stop it for you, but I do believe I am powerless in this situation.

And with that, it’s farewell everyone.

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

I know there are many bad takes about Gale on this site, but the worst takes I’ve seen on another social media site in another language are much more abhorrent than anything here tbh, the recent one I’ve seen even gets some popularity among his “fans”... They were basically saying it’s Mystra who made him the humble man he is now, without her influence on him he would be as egotistical as in his god ending, and more than a hundred of reblogs are all thanking Mystra for “training her lapdog so well” for them🤢

Did we even play the same game? Isn’t his god ending a direct result of Mystra making him think he will never be enough as he is, and he can only find his self-worth through gaining more power? Didn’t Tara say he’s not himself anymore and she would no longer be his companion in his god ending, she knew him long before Mystra made him her chosen, he was powerful enough before his relationship with Mystra, if he’s anything like god!Gale at the time wouldn’t Tara just leave him? I’d imagine he would have been more confident and had a more stable self-image if Mystra had never contacted him, therefore he didn’t even need the Gale of Waterdeep persona. He would always have been Gale Dekarios in that timeline. And people glorifying Mystra’s grooming and abuse towards him and unironically calling him “her lapdog” is just... I have no words. But what do you expect from an online space that’s infested with terfs and radfems? They just won’t recognize or acknowledge any abuse from women towards men...

[wlw-cryptid]

i have a bit of a situation these days and it's driving me crazy, i have nobody to talk to or ask for advice so i am venting here, hope that's okay.

i am a 19 year old lesbian and my whole love life has been filled with girls. a month ago, i met a guy and started having feelings for him. the first time i ever noticed that i liked girls was so painful and unusual for me, it was very hard to get through. i managed to get through it but i am having the same struggle all over again. i identified myself as a lesbian for so long, this feels awfully confusing and complicated. i have no idea how to explain it to my friends because they all know that i'm not into guys. i still don't feel any type of sexual attraction towards guys, even the one that i have feelings for. the making out part is fine for me but i have no desire of having sex. he is completely okay with it and loves me the way i am, which makes me very happy. however, i am having a conflict in my head. i still am not attracted to men but i am currently involved with one?! this is hard for me to process, let alone telling people about it.

i feel stuck and i need opinions, i'd appreciate it a lot. <3

i mean the simple answer is to sit down and really think about if youre comfortable being bi, darlin.

[pardonmydelays]

what are your top 5 most romantic musical songs?

you don't even know, dear anon, how hard it is for me to answer hahaha i just realized that most of my favourite musical songs are not even love songs. but i will try my best!

no one else from the great comet - this is probably my favourite romantic musical song ever, but phillipa soo's version obviously (my wife, in case anyone forgot)

all i've ever known from hadestown - such an obvious choice tbh, but this song somehow always makes me cry so it has to be on that list

can you hear me? from new york, new york - i don't even know the context of this song which is so funny to me, but damn, i love this one so much i can't even explain (especially lin's demo but not only, i listen to both), like, would you ever be with a wreck like me? or could i ever be a part of the song inside your heart? ahhhhh...

bad idea from waitress - ok, look, i know it's not a love song but a song about cheating but i fucking love it & it has to be on this list cause i literally cannot think of anything else & i listen to this one A LOT, ok? i'm sorry hahaha

helpless from hamilton - i was trying to avoid this one but turns out i can't think of anything else lol i'm really sorry

[feroluce]

On character death: Coming to Hisui went very, very wrong. Ingo comes across Emmet's body and. He can't place a name, who this person was to him (is it even the same man from his faint memories? why would that person be in hisui?), but, looking at this stranger(?), he still feels himself fucking s h a t t e r

SO I HAVE. SOME THOUGHTS.

It happens in the coastlands. Palina and Iscan are just kinda sitting around at the top of the cliffs, up by the previous Lord's grave, and suddenly Palina looks horrified. Iscan finally manages to see what she's pointing at and shit, shit, that doesn't look like just debris floating out on the ocean. Iscan goes diving off the cliff, blowing into his Celestica Flute on the way down, Basculegion catching him right before he hits the water, and they get out there at top speed, but. Yeah. It's already too late. It was already too late well before they'd spotted him.

Iscan brings the body back with him, of course. He figures he'll have to ask the Ginkgo Guild if one of their merchant ships have lost any crew, even if this doesn't look like their usual blue and yellow uniform. Except.

As soon as she gets down to the shore with him, Palina looks stricken, and it takes Iscan a few minutes just to calm her down and get the words out of her. He knows she still has a lot of trauma related to drowning after the previous Lord of the Isles, but he can tell there's something different this time, something's off. Palina never cries in front of anyone but him, but even then, this is way way worse than usual. And it's not until he picks out a name between all her hiccupping little sobs that Iscan realizes oh, no, Palina knew this person.

He'd never really met Warden Ingo, but he's seen him from afar, and now that he looks, yeah, this body definitely seems to be him.

Even if his coat does seem to be a different color than usual.

So Iscan carries Palina home, sends out a message via Starly, and waits.

((Irida, looking up from a letter in her hands: Warden Ingo, apparently you've been found dead in the coastlands.

Ingo: Ah, alright, My Lady.

Irida: ...

Ingo: .....

Irida: .......

Ingo: .........No, wait, what???))

The next day, Irida shows up...with Ingo in tow?! Iscan says something about ghosts and nearly faints haha. Palina is so relieved she nearly faints, too. She's still upset that someone drowned, but. She's at least glad it wasn't Ingo.

Irida doesn't look as relieved. And neither does Ingo, to a much greater extent.

Irida keeps glancing at him, hovering near him, fidgeting with the bangles around her wrists, and it's been so long since Palina has seen her act this way that she almost can't place the behavior.

Irida is nervous.

She shouldn't have any reason to be nervous. If the body isn't Ingo, then it's not anyone else in the clan either. It shouldn't be anyone they would be upset over. But as they make their way through the rest of the coastlands, the air starts to feel thicker, darker, more oppressive, Palina has to all but hold onto Iscan to keep herself from running ahead just to escape it and get it over with, because it feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop, like the suspense of waiting for the blade of a guillotine to come down.

Iscan leads them to where he'd safely placed the body, but before closing that last bit of distance, Irida suddenly grabs Ingo's hand. His eyes are locked dead ahead; Ingo isn't looking at her. Irida isn't looking anywhere but him.

"That's- I can- Do you want me to look? You don't have to."

"No thank you, My Lady. I need to see for myself."

And still she hesitates, but Irida drops his hand. She lets him go, stands there with her fists clenched around nothing but their emptiness.

Ingo finally gets a good look at the body, at the man dragged under and brought in by the tides, at his face, the white of his hat and his coat, his upturned mouth, something tugs at his insides, pulls loose, the knot he'd been working to tease apart for so long, for years, it's vanished into thin air, the thread let loose, nothing to hold it steady, nothing to keep it anchored and taut anymore, part of him is gone now, just suddenly gone, and that absence aches-

Ingo's knees hit the ground first. Then his palms. Then his elbows, and finally his forehead.

All sound seems to disappear, the world is as quiet as a wake. Ingo tries to remember how to breathe.

His vision fades out, then back in, then out and then back in again. He doesn't remember sitting up. It seems like it should have been impossible for him to do, with how unbearably heavy his body feels. Palina and Iscan are gone. His aching hands are covered in grit from clenching his fists. When he hears sniffling, it seems to come to him from the bottom of a deep, dark well.

"It is him, isn't it." Irida's hands are clutched in his coat.

"It...it is." Ingo has no idea who he is, but he would know him from anywhere. He can feel it in his leftover half of a soul, in his ripped red thread.

Ingo sits there, on his knees, in the dirt. He doesn't know for how long. He doesn't move. The sun starts to set. He doesn't move. The man's coat all but glows white under the silvery moonlight. He doesn't move. Irida's head lolls. She's been sitting flush against his back the entire time. Ingo moves, if only to find his voice.

He asks if he can have some time alone. Because Irida doesn't need to be out there in the elements with him, she hasn't even eaten this whole time. Irida tells him he can, of course he can, he can have whatever he needs. But not just yet.

Not until Ingo stops looking like he'll walk right out into the ocean to join him.

Gaeric shows up the next morning with a sheet big enough to wrap a body and a cart to bring the man in white back with them, surprising Ingo. Usually people that don't belong to a clan or settlement are simply burned and then the ashes buried where they're found. Hisui is no stranger to shallow, hastily dug graves.

Irida declares that the man in white is to be given all the same burial rites as any Warden's spouse. Ingo is one of hers now, and that extends to his family, too. She had always planned to take in anyone who showed up looking for Ingo, she just...hadn't wanted it to be like this...

Ingo nearly cries again right then and there.

Iscan helps Gaeric with the cart and pats his shoulder when they go to leave. Palina promises she'll be there for the rites and hugs him goodbye so tightly that Ingo wonders if she's trying to squeeze all his broken pieces back together into one jagged, misshapen form.

They set off, and at first Ingo walks alongside Gaeric and Irida. And then alongside the cart's front wheels. And then its back wheels. And then almost behind it. Gaeric keeps pulling it forward as he tells Ingo that he can sit on the back of the cart if he's tired. If he wants to. He's strong, he can pull them both the whole way.

There's no verbal answer, but the cart dips under its new additional weight, two bodies laid side-by-side.

Irida takes up one side of the handles so that she can squeeze in next to Gaeric. She hangs her head and grits her teeth, fits her smaller hand into his. He lets her, grips back just as tight.

And neither of them says a single word of protest the entire way back to the alabaster icelands, as Ingo quietly breaks down behind them.

(Technically, everything goes back to the same afterwards. Technically, Ingo's life is the same as it's ever been; nothing has changed. The man in white had never lived with him here. Ingo still doesn't even know who he is. Technically, he should be fine.

Ingo gets up. Takes balms to Sneasler and her kits. Eats breakfast. Scares off any predators. Clears the arena. Fishes in the river. Eats dinner with Melli. Reads the book Calaba lent him. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Walks to Jubilife. Eats breakfast. Puts the aspiring trainers through their paces. Makes small talk with Zisu. Coordinates matches. Eats dinner with Akari. Goes home. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Delivers balms. Protects the territory. Eats the food Melli brings him. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Drags himself to Jubilife. Battles. Picks at the food Akari treats him to. Goes home. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Does his work. Goes to bed.

Ingo gets up. Does his work. Goes to bed.)

((When Ingo passes of illness some amount of time later, he isn't found at the main settlement, or at the training grounds in Jubilife, or even at his own home in the highlands. Instead, he's found huddled against a nameless grave, protected from the elements by a white coat, matching white cap still clutched in his hands.))

[florenceisfalling]

for posterity i'll say i sc'ed & deleted my rb of her post. i do not want to make it easier for anyone to send her anything unkind 👍 if they even are doing that. idk. i literally dont know shit