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girlgenius1111 · 6 months

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all of my pain and all your excuses

part 2 of family line ingrid arrives home, and realizes how much she's missed with her sister. her and mapi try to figure out how to put the pieces back together. r struggles with the mess inside her head. cw: mommy issues galore 🙃 mentions of poor mental health. solstråle continues to be sad.

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It took you a few minutes of crying into Mapi before you realized what she’d probably done. At this realization, you pulled away from her in a panic, practically falling onto the ground.

“Mapi, please don’t tell Ingrid about this, please please, you can’t, she’ll be so mad, she’s already mad, I can’t,” your gasps for air cut your words off and Mapi took your face in between her hands.

“Breathe. In and out pequeña. Just breathe.” She instructed, dramatically exaggerating her own breaths.

“Please, Mapi,” you whimpered after a minute.

“I’m sorry, nena, I had to. I had to.” She said, seemingly begging you to believe her that she’d had no other choice. You couldn’t really blame her; you’d gotten yourself here, after all. You’d written the letter. You’d meant every word you’d said, and every word you didn’t quite have the guts to say. You’d collapsed into her arms. You’d given her no choice.

“I’m really scared,” you mumbled.

Mapi pulled you back in, tucking your face easily into her chest. “I know. You don’t need to be, but I know you are. Everything is going to be alright. I promise you.”

You wrapped yourself tight around the defender, hoping with everything in you that she was right.

When Ingrid burst through the front door, eyes immediately finding you on the couch, crumpled up into a little ball in Mapi’s lap, she knew it was bad. Mapi was holding you so tightly, expression unreadable when she glanced up at Ingrid, murmuring inaudible words in your ear. You looked so small, visibly trembling in your baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, Mapi’s arms engulfing you. Ingrid practically ran to your side, sitting as carefully as she could next to the both of you.

“María, what..?” Ingrid asked, trailing off when Mapi silently held out a piece of paper to her. Ingrid took it, having no idea what she was about to read. Having no idea what she was about to feel.

You were hiding your face in Mapi’s sweater, much too distraught to care about how pathetic you probably seemed. You’d heard Ingrid enter, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to leave your safe little bubble and confront this. When it had been silent for too long, and you knew Ingrid must be done reading by now, you shifted away from Mapi. It was time to be brave, and it was time to take whatever was coming your way.

The look on your sister’s face made you want to take it all back. Because, fuck, you weren’t sure your happiness was worth making Ingrid this upset. She was scanning over the paper over and over, as if she was hoping the contents would change with each reread.

You acted stronger than you felt, sliding off Mapi’s lap and moving a bit closer to Ingrid. She didn’t look away from the letter.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly.

Your sister’s head snapped up to look at you so rapidly, you almost jumped.

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, and you felt like the last stable part of you broke sharply at the nickname. Sunbeam, it meant. Ingrid had called you that your whole life. Her sunbeam, always breaking through the clouds to shine a bit of light. She’d assumed you’d grown out of it, recently. You looked so small, though, so scared and so desperately sad, that it just slipped out. She didn’t regret it, not when you practically fell towards her. “Oh, honey.”

If you were crying with Mapi just minutes before, you were bawling now. Hysterical, hyperventilating cries that were painful to hear, and painful to let out, but somehow so cathartic. Ingrid pulled you into her, beginning to cry herself.

When Ingrid spoke, it was in Norwegian, and nothing had ever sounded so safe. “I am so sorry, my perfect baby sister, I am so so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you.”

And though you still cried, you relaxed marginally at the comfort hearing her speak in your native language brought you. You relaxed, going completely limp against your sister. You probably would have slid off her onto the ground if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around you so tight. Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d ever let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted her to.

-------

Ingrid stood in your doorway, eyes fixed on your sleeping form. She’d brought you up to bed, carrying you like she used to when you were little. You’d fallen asleep on her downstairs, and she hadn’t dared to move you for a while. She and Mapi sat in a rather stunned silence for a while, before Mapi suggested she bring you up to bed. So, Ingrid tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chin the way she knew you liked them. She noticed something tucked under one of your pillows, and carefully pulled it out. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the plush polar bear in her hand. Snø. She’d given him to you when you were three, for your birthday. She thought you’d stopped sleeping with him, but apparently not. The thought that you’d pulled him out of your closet for some comfort upon arriving in Spain made tears flood Ingrid’s eyes. She carefully kissed your forehead before rushing out of the room, almost colliding with her girlfriend.

“Oof,” Mapi grunted, steadying Ingrid, when she caught sight of the other womans’ face. “Amor,”

Ingrid shook her head, wiping harshly at her eyes, and pushed past Mapi towards their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled the folded letter out of her pocket, smoothing it out, and began to read it. Again. Mapi had followed her into the room, and took the paper out of her girlfriend’s hands.

“Give it back.” Ingrid said through clenched teeth. She sounded angry, but Mapi saw the tears in her eyes and knew better.

“No, you’ve already read it.” Mapi said firmly.

“María, give it back, I need to read it again.”

“Mi amor, it's just going to hurt more, and you don’t need that right now.”

“Yes I do,” Ingrid cried. “I do, she’s been hurting like this for god knows how long. Wanting to–” She cut herself off, shaking her head almost frantically. “She said she felt like no one would care if she was gone. Reading this hurts but it is nothing compared to what she has been feeling, and it is all my fault, so let me read it so I can fix this, because I need to fix this, I can’t lose her, María, I can’t lose her.” Ingrid was sobbing by the end, making little to no sense, and Mapi placed her hands on Ingrid’s cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. She noticed in that moment that while you looked alike normally, you looked just like Ingrid when you cried.

It wasn’t enough, though, Ingrid was crying so hard, every sob shattered a part of Mapi that she hadn’t known existed. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Ingrid with her, guiding the younger woman’s head onto her chest. Ingrid clutched at Mapi’s shirt almost desperately, muffling her sobs there too, although her body shook heavily with the force of them. Her world was falling down around her, and it was all she could do to hold onto her María, and not let go.

“I know, mi princesa, I know.” Mapi murmured, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. “You aren’t going to lose her. We aren’t going to lose her. We’ll fix it.”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Ingrid whimpered. Mapi tilted the Norwegian’s head up, until Ingrid was looking at her once again.

“That’s okay, mi amor. You don’t need to have all the answers now. We’ll figure it out together. For now, just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.”

Ingrid nodded pitifully, scooting up and cramming her face into the crook of Mapi’s neck.

“Thank you. For helping her and for texting me and for being so perfect. You’re always so perfect.” Ingrid mumbled.

“I’ll be perfect for you any day. I love you, and I love your sister. Now relax, mi princesa. Relax, breathe, calm down. We’re going to be okay.”

And like you had earlier, Ingrid hoped with everything in her that Mapi was right about this.

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Ingrid and Mapi fell silent the minute you walked into the kitchen the next morning. They’d been talking about you, clearly, and they looked at you nervously the minute you were in sight. You’d woken up irritated, though, as you sometimes did, feeling like your blood was boiling, as if one wrong thing would set you off. You wished you had more control than that, but you knew the minute you heard your sister’s voice, you would fly off the handle. Because this morning? You weren’t sad. You were furious.

The room was a complete contradiction to how you were feeling. Ingrid and Mapi’s home was bright with sunlight, and warm with color. They were both holding matching coffee mugs, and looking at you with matching concerned expressions, and all of it made you want to scream. Why did Ingrid get to have this perfect life, and you didn’t? Why did she get to be happy so easily, and you didn’t?

You were lost in your thoughts, taking the coffee Mapi handed you with a quiet thank you. The kitchen was uncomfortably silent.

“Hi, solstråle. How are you feeling this morning?” Ingrid piped up. You clenched your jaw. How did she think you were feeling?

“Fine.” You snapped.

Ingrid remained quiet and soothing when she spoke next, and it made you even angrier. “Honey, last night,”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” You said harshly, cutting her off. Ingrid tensed, trying to keep her reaction in check.

“I’m sorry, solstråle, but that is not an option. We need to talk about what happened, we can’t wait on that.” Ingrid insisted, voice measured.

Still it was like she’d hit you. Your head snapped up, your features contorted with rage, and you set your coffee down dangerously softly, glaring at your sister. “Oh now we have to? Now we have to talk about it? I’ve been here for 6 fucking months Ingrid. It took you months to realize something was wrong, and you didn’t even realize! I had to write it out for you. You told me last night that you love me, that you want me here, well then why didn’t you fucking show it before now! I said I don’t want to talk today and I meant that.” You yelled.

Ingrid shook her head, her hands clenching tight into fists. “Do not yell at me. I am trying to help. I understand that you’re hurt, and that you’re upset, but-”

You scoffed loudly then, interrupting her, and Ingrid got visibly more frustrated with you, her lips turning down into a disapproving frown.

“You can’t-”

“Ingrid, just take a sec.” Mapi cut in, her soft voice a sharp contrast to how you and your sister had been conversing. “Nena, we do need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now. Let’s just all take a breath.”

Ingrid was shocked when you slowly nodded your head and took a step back from her, inhaling deeply. It was like magic; she’d never seen an argument that you were involved in get de-escalated so quickly.

“Go get your homework, okay? You’re coming with us to training.” Ingrid said after a minute. There was no room for argument in her words, and you fought against another surge of anger, fought the urge to yell.

“Is this because of what I wrote?” You asked evenly. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances.

“Listen, nena, we just want to keep an eye on you.” Mapi told you, realizing that you were a lot less reactive when she spoke to you than when Ingrid did.

“I know what I said. I wasn’t going to do anything, though. Really. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to you.” You defended quietly.

Mapi felt Ingrid’s hand slide into hers and grip tight. I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d said. Not I wouldn’t do that, period. Everytime she thought about what you’d written, Ingrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Mapi hadn’t gotten home when she did. She wasn’t sure how close she’d come to losing you. She was so scared.

Ingrid had never been good at letting you see how she was feeling, and maybe that was why, until this point, you’d gone out of your way to hide your own emotions from her. She decided to take Mapi’s advice from the night before. Just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.

Ingrid approached you like she was worried you would lash out at her, which may have been fair. When you made no move to step away from her, she carefully stood directly in front of you, and put her hands on your shoulders.

“What you wrote really scared me. I’m not mad, solstråle, I’m just really scared. And I trust you, I do, but if I left you here alone, I would just worry, and we haven’t talked yet, and I have no idea what you’re thinking other than the things you said on that piece of paper. So it would make me feel a lot better if you came with us to training today.”

You blinked up at her for a minute, before you slowly nodded your head. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.”

Ingrid seemed equally as surprised as you did, removing her hands from your shoulders, and gesturing for you to go get your bag. Once you’d disappeared from the room, she turned back to her girlfriend, who had a ridiculous grin on her face.

“Look! You communicated! Like a real human being!” Mapi joked, opening her arms. Ingrid instantly melted into the hug, though she scowled at her girlfriend’s teasing.

“I communicate.” She said stubbornly.

“Sometimes,” Mapi allowed. “You’ve definitely gotten better. And you’ll keep getting better because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as determined as you are right now to make sure that your solstråle is okay.” Mapi whispered, kissing the side of Ingrid’s head.

“My solstråle.” Ingrid smiled. “I started calling her that when she was 3, and she had this shirt with a sun on it. I told her I liked it once, and whenever she saw me sad after that, she’d run off to put the shirt on and come show me. I called her my little solstråle. My sunbeam. She used to be so smiley, María. So happy. She’s so different now.” Very quickly, the smile faded from Ingrid’s face and she held Mapi closer to her.

“It’s all gonna be okay, mi princesa,” Mapi promised.

You cleared your throat from the doorway, then, and your sister and her girlfriend sprung apart, blushing like high schoolers caught in an awkward position. “Are you guys done making out?”

“We weren’t making out,” Ingrid groaned, as you all headed towards the door.

“No, we only make out after training,” Mapi said seriously.

You made a fake retching sound, Ingrid slapped her girlfriend in the arm, and Mapi laughed to herself, but the tension was broken. And you had smiled, a real smile. Ingrid didn’t care what she had to say to see you smile again, she’d do it.

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As was the norm when you went to training, the younger girls immediately latched onto you, yanking you away from Ingrid and pulling you into some scheme to get back at Mapi for the prank she’d pulled on them last week. It was the usual suspects; Pina,Vicky, Salma, and a couple others pulling you from the room, already giggling. They kindly didn’t say anything about the bruising and cuts on your face, and for that you were grateful, although you did get a few raised eyebrows from the older players. Ingrid watched you go anxiously, only turning her attention away from the door you’d walked out of when Mapi squeezed her hand.

“She’ll be fine.” Mapi promised. Ingrid nodded, but she didn’t stop worrying. And when Mapi went off to work in the gym herself, the Norwegian had no one to pull her out of her head.

She worried all through the gym session, paying very little attention to what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t normal for Ingrid, and it caught the attention of pretty much everyone.

Ingrid was staring intently at where you were sitting against the wall in the shade, working on your homework, when Alexia and Frido approached.

“Everything okay, Engen?” Alexia asked.

“Yep.” Ingrid said distractedly.

“What did our dear solstråle do this time?” Frido joked, having known your sister long enough to know precisely why you were living with her. Alexia knew, too, and smiled, joining in on the joke. Until Ingrid’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she turned away from you, wiping harshly at her face.

“Ingrid? What happened?” Frido wondered, running a hand up and down the Norwegian’s arm, while Alexia looked around anxiously, searching for anyone, anyone on earth, that would be better at dealing with whatever was going on than she would be.

“It’s a long story.” Ingrid said, her voice cracking. Frido and Alexia exchanged looks, before the captain turned to Jona across the pitch.

“Ingrid needs her ankle taped!” She shouted, before leading both women off the pitch. Jona nodded knowingly, despite the fact that Ingrid hadn’t done anything to her ankle, and it was rather odd for 2 entire people to accompany her to tape it. Jona knew that Alexia wouldn’t be asking for a minute for Ingrid if she didn’t think it was necessary.

Ingrid let them pull her into the locker room, rather desperate for some advice and some honesty. Because Mapi loved her too much to tell her how badly she’d really messed up, and both Frido and Alexia were known to be brutally honest. She needed brutal honesty right now. No matter how much it hurt.

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You were busy struggling through an essay you were supposed to be writing entirely in Spanish when Frido sat down next to you. One look at her face told you she knew exactly what was going on. You weren’t that surprised. She was your sister’s best friend, and you’d known her for a long time. If there was anyone that Ingrid was going to talk to, it would be Frido.

Frido always spoke to you in Norwegian, a thing you were endlessly grateful for. It instantly put you at ease, and today was no different, as she tugged playfully at your ear.

“How is my favorite Norwegian?” She asked.

“I know you already asked your second favorite Norwegian.” You replied jokingly.

“Why would I ask Caro how you are?” Frido deadpanned.

You threw your head back, laughing loudly, and Frido grinned, continuing on to tell any and every joke she could think of.

Ingrid watched from the doorway of the building, and when Mapi turned the corner and saw her watching the two of you, she knew exactly what her girlfriend was thinking.

Ingrid saw Mapi coming, though, and forced a smile onto her face. “How was the gym?” She asked.

“Fine. I was distracted though. How is she doing?” Mapi replied, nodding in your direction.

“Well. She’s joking around with Frido. So, better I assume.” Ingrid said evenly.

“She’s joking with Frido because Frido speaks her language, and she trusts her, and she didn’t just get into a screaming match with Frido. Frido didn’t read a letter containing her most upsetting feelings. She loves you, Ingrid, she just needs time.” Mapi assured her. Ingrid kissed her cheek softly, very appreciative that her girlfriend always knew what she needed.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk when we get home?” Ingrid asked, after another minute.

Mapi sounded wiser than normal when she spoke. Ingrid wasn’t used to her being the voice of reason in their relationship, but she appreciated that the defender always stepped up, and was always willing to be what Ingrid needed. “What happened last night was a big thing. She needs to process, and she needs to take her time with it. She’ll talk when she’s ready. And until then, we keep an eye on her, we give her hugs, and we tell her that we love her, vale?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed. It was going to be a long and difficult evening of not suffocating you with questions, it seemed. She’d do it, though, if it was what you needed. Ingrid thought that she would probably quit football or cut off one of her limbs if that was what you needed.

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You didn’t talk much the rest of the day, as Mapi predicted, and as Ingrid feared. Your sister did her best not to push you, and was mostly successful. Mapi kept the conversation going, able to talk about nothing for hours. She knew exactly which topics to discuss and which to avoid, and she knew how to make both you and Ingrid laugh until your stomachs hurt. Thank god for Mapi.

You were… relatively alright. Until later that evening, when you got up to head upstairs to finish some homework. You’d accidentally picked up Ingrid’s phone thinking it was yours, and saw a few texts from your mom to her. All about how much she missed Ingrid, how she was thinking of her, how she made Ingrid’s favorite for dinner that night. Nothing about you. You put it back down silently, grabbed your phone, and tried not to think about it, to no avail.

Instead of doing your homework, you sat on the floor of your room, thinking of the fact that your mom had missed your birthday, and not even noticed. Ingrid had, too, but she’d apologized over and over, and she’d promised to take you shopping over the weekend, and to dinner. Ingrid was trying. Your mother hadn’t tried in a while.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Mapi knocked on the door to say goodnight. She peaked in, frowning when she saw the fresh tears on your cheeks.

“Hey,” she said softly, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to you, minding her knee. She texted Ingrid to come upstairs, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know that you aren’t. But Ingrid and I love you. Ingrid and I want you here. Ingrid and I are gonna fix things, and that is a promise.”

You registered the words, though you didn’t believe them. Still, you gave Mapi a watery smile and leaned into her a bit. Ingrid’s footsteps were quiet in the hall, but you recognized that she was walking faster than normal. She appeared at your door, then, giving Mapi a meaningful look, and took Mapi’s place, sliding down onto the floor next to you. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and holding tight. It looked as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together.

“Hey, solstråle,” Ingrid said softly. You murmured a greeting, not moving your chin from your knees, and not turning your gaze towards your sister either. It was quiet for a minute before Ingrid prompted you. “Talk to me, please.”

You sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek. “‘I just miss Mom.” You said finally.

Ingrid’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were so stubborn, so willful, sometimes she forgot you were just a kid. Just an 18 year old kid living in a foreign country, who missed her mom. “Do you want to call her?” She asked, not very confident in the suggestion, but not really sure what else to say.

You instantly shook your head. “No. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Kjære, of course she does,” Ingrid began, but she wasn’t really sure. Your parents were so different, now. And whenever Ingrid called her mom, she never asked about you. She only wanted to hear about Ingrid. Your sister wasn’t stupid, she knew she was their favorite, but she didn’t expect them to write you off completely when you moved to Spain. They seemed happier, now. Without you there. It was something Ingrid couldn’t understand. Neither could you, really, but you had long accepted it.

“No she doesn’t. I stopped calling her, just to see. 2 months ago. She hasn’t called me once. She doesn’t want me, anymore, Ingrid. I know I was an accident, but if they were going to hate me for ruining their early retirement plans, I don’t know why they didn't just…”

Ingrid was speechless. At a loss for words, and so so angry. You filled the silence, though, things you’d never said out loud falling out of your mouth like you couldn’t help it.

“I miss what mom was like before, when I was younger. When you were still at home. I miss that mom. I don’t miss the one that I could call right now.”

“I don’t understand,” Ingrid said quietly, her hand resting on your head, and pulling you closer to her.

“Ingrid, I know mom is always nice to you, but,”

“No, solstråle. I don’t understand her. How she could bring someone so perfect into this world and not want to spend the rest of her life watching you grow up. I’ll never forgive her for how she’s made you feel, and I’ll never forgive myself for not noticing earlier. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better. I promise you.”

“Thanks, Ing.” You mumbled, looking up at her for a minute before resting your head on her shoulder.

The problem was, Ingrid could tell you didn’t believe her. She could see it in your eyes; they were still so guarded and so hurt. You were still angry with her, she knew. You thought she just felt guilty, and eventually she would go back to how she was before. Ingrid didn’t know how to make you believe what she felt and what she told you. She worried so deeply that she wouldn’t be able to. That too much damage had been done, and that maybe she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Late at night, early in the morning, right in the middle of a match, she worried about that. All the time until it consumed her, and all she wanted to do was sit with you, and promise you over and over that she loved you more than anything on this planet. What if you never believed her?

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doesn't everyone feel so much better now!

#woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader

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galedekarios · 7 months

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i'm reading a new interview tim downie gave about gale and it offers some of tim's own headcanons about gale, as well as tim's thoughts and insights on gale's character:

Nerds & Beyond: I like that you mentioned that the game is full of rounded characters because they are, they all have different aspects that make them feel real. I adore that Gale specifically is so serious and studious, but at the same time he has this really playful side — he often jokes about how he was a mischievous youth, he encourages other people like Arabella to do so, he understands when The Dark Urge first mentions their violent thoughts. There is a lot of nuance and depth there. But the quality that I love with Gale most is that obviously he is very ill when we first meet him – not that we know immediately – and he’s dealing with a lot of chronic pain. I find him incredibly selfless because he takes that day-to-day head on to help the party, which is an aspect I feel continues to show throughout the three acts. What’s your favorite quality of Gale’s, or what did you take away from him? Tim Downie: It’s so interesting hearing you say that, because I had so many different feedbacks about what people take from the character and sometimes things really surprise you. It’s interesting hearing that such and such has taken that particular aspect, because there are broad things like “He’s funny,” and that’s quite nice, that’s a nice trait, though not one you necessarily get to see that much. It’s so interesting hearing other people’s views about what they take from Gale. The idea of dealing with chronic pain I found really interesting and an interesting subplot to play, and that was the great thing about doing something like this is that it is so unbelievably nuanced. You have so many layers that just keep going and going and going, as much as we all contain multitudes within ourselves. We all deal with these things, but only certain things pop up to the surface at any given point. What did I take from Gale, though? I liked his studiousness. I would imagine that he was probably bullied as a kid for it, and he was probably a bit of a joker because he was bullied, and he uses that as a defense. But an even bigger defense for him is “I now know stuff that I didn’t before,” and that’s a power. It’s very similar to when you are being bullied and you’re the funny one – that’s your power, that’s your thing. “I may not be able to hurt you in a traditional sense, but I can say things that will make you feel pain,” which is a very different thing because you physically can’t go after them. That’s the wonderful thing about acting and this character as well is being able to explore all these things that you might not have, that you might have gone, “I’m not gonna look at that again, I don’t want to deal with that,” and then it brings it up again and it’s like, “Oh, this is actually quite cathartic,” to re-explore these these moments of sorrow and loss and how you deal with grief and things like that and heartbreak and how you get over that. It’s not all just tears, you do try and make a joke of it.

i really like that they are addressing the topic of gale's chronic pain. it's something that doesn't get addressed often, not even in the game itself.

i also found his answer as to why people might connect to gale very nice:

Nerds & Beyond: Gale is the most popular origin character to play as. What is it about him that you think allows so many different players to connect with him to the depths the fandom has? Tim Downie: I really don’t know. I think you’d have to ask the players that, ‘cause I don’t know, to be quite honest with you. He’s a wizard, and who wouldn’t want to be a wizard at the end of the day? I always say the difference between wizards and sorcerers is that sorcerers just pretend – they just assume they know what they’re doing, but a wizard has really learned this trade. And so there’s that kind of weight of knowledge and learning, which I would love to play as and be for a length of time. I think it’s also the frailties. I like characters, and a lot of people do I’m assuming, that have flaws, otherwise you’ve made them completely unapproachable. To be completely superhuman or completely extraordinary at something then removes the humanity from it because it becomes like, “Well, that’s never gonna happen.” But when there’s a flaw, when there’s, “Oh, I’ve got that wrong, too,” or like, “My knees hurt” as you say, or “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I really don’t want to do this,” “You’re really annoying me, this is very annoying, could you please hurry up?” or “Stop licking the damn thing,” it’s always those moments that are fun because it shows what we’re all thinking at that point, it removes it from almost archetype and stereotype and it becomes human in a way.

gale is approachable and likeable, has flaws, but is genuinely nice. i think that very much sums up his character.

this bit here made me laugh:

Nerds & Beyond: When you’re talking about those different layers in the humanity building, I think one of the most important aspects in this game is the more “background” or passive dialogue, so dialogue that is prompted in the world and not in the cut scenes. For instance — the first time I made Gale sneak he immediately complained about his knees, and it was such a real moment where he was just like, “Oh, don’t make me do this. This is not what I’m here for, I’ve got bad knees and I’m not made for this.” Did you have any of those background lines or moments that stick out as being particularly fun to craft? Tim Downie: I remember the first time I ever had to do waiting, I found it infinitely interesting in so many ways. The idea that I did actually just have to wait and just actually, “Hmm…” Those little things I find really funny because they’re probably the closest to me that the character ever gets. His waiting mannerisms are kind of very English – slightly annoyed and I’m not going to show it to you though because we’re all being very nice, but I’ll do it with a huff and a slightly sarcastic, “Well, that’s great. Another 20 minutes. That’s great.” Those kinds of sentiments I found wonderful and incredibly fun, and funny, to do.

if you want to read the whole interview for yourself, you can do so here!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tim downie #ch: gale dekarios #actor: tim downie #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #please keep in mind that this is not canon and just tim sharing his thoughts #i'd just like to add that as a general disclaimer

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justporo · 11 months

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You might (probably not) have seen a post from me today saying I was feeling empty and exhausted. I deleted that because I figured nobody would wanna see me cry on main all the time, so yeah... I feel better now though, don't worry.

Still I had very self-indulgent thoughts today, that I will share because three cheers for turning bad energy into positive stuff:

Headcanons for Astarion comforting his partner

Oh gods, you're almost already crying: your lips are already wobbling and your eyes are dangerously wet. What's a vampire gonna do about it?

Astarion is really lost about what to do, but he knows for sure: he really doesn't want you to cry or feel sad

"What's wrong, love? Did I do something wrong?"

He's definitely worrying and overthinking about if he's the reason behind your tears

The rock dropping from his undead heart when you eagerly shake your head though

So he awkwardly drags you into a hug and strokes your back while you just let tears flow

He holds you as long as you need to, just being there and willing that you'll feel better soon

"Do you want to talk about it, my heart? Maybe putting it into words will help you send it away."

Astarion will get better about this the more he learns about his partner and he's eager to be prepared the next time this happens: for example, learning what kind of hot beverage you love, to prepare it (specially with something fancy to make it even better and he calls it "à l'Astarion" with a wink and it makes you giggle with it already)

Astarion will absolutely try and make you feel better by cracking absolutely stupid jokes: "You know, I really didn't think water elves did exist. But you're the living proof aren't you, my sweet sad darling?" (The jokes are terrible... but that's why they cracked you up so much)

He'll also really listen to what you tell him helps and he'll try his best to make you happy again as soon as possible

Sometimes that entails just letting it all go while he simply holds you, humming a lullaby and swaying you in his arms

He nuzzles his face in your hair, the top of your head

Also lots of loving kisses of course

Sometimes he just talks and talks until you peacefully drift into dreams in his arms and he'll smile at you, seeing how your face has become relaxed again and wrap you in a blanket on the sofa or carry you to bed carefully

And after a good cathartic cry: "Feel better now, love? Then let me run you a bath - and join you if you want..."

Then sometime he'll have it figured out and just needs a bit of input to figure out what will help: "No no, my sweet, you will not just sit here and spiral! Do you want to go for a walk?" You shake your head. "Smash some old mugs and curse all the Gods?" More head-shaking. "Want me to grab ink and paper and write down an action plan with you?" Still head shaking. "Alright, darling, you're making this a hard nut to crack. How about I make you some fresh tea, wrap you in some blanket and read you a Drizzt story?" You eagerly nod your head and wrap your arms around the suddenly flustered vampire, also maybe rubbing your snotty nose on his shirt a little. Entirely on accident of course. "Ugh, and you're also getting some tissues, you nasty little gremlin."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #bg3 #headcanons #astarion headcanons #imagine #comforting #poro headcanons

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woundedoves · 2 months

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How They Would Suck Your Blood: Vampires (Sunday, Dr Ratio x Bottom GN!Reader) Headcanons Part 2 (NSFW) ⟡part 1 ⟡part 3

a/n: sunday my savior

CW: Sunday has guilt about being a vampire, biting, blood, slightly violent thoughts on sunday’s part, slight insecurity in Ratio’s part

Sunday

⟡ Sunday hates himself for what he is, he hates himself for deceiving his planet of who he truly is, not a soft hearted, warm angel with a halo but a disgusting creature; walking among his people as if he doesn’t see them as food as soon as he gets a whiff of their blood. Were it not for Robin, he would have banished himself from Penacony a long time ago.

⟡ Regardless, your relationship with him is complicated to say the least. He’s convinced himself that you’re just another servant that just so happens to have the blood that his taste buds enjoy the most, nothing more nothing less.

⟡ At least, that’s what he tells himself as his fangs pierce your flesh, his length throbbing against the fabric of his underwear as he listens to your silent whimpers, your silent breaths, the way the drug that is you; you in your entirety hits his system, he feels like he’s truly reached the heavens.

⟡ He quickly realises that he doesn’t only enjoy your blood, the way your skin feels against his, the way your hands feel in his, the way your lips quiver when his own get way too close than they should to the lips of a servant. These… urges, let’s say, he’s always had them and yet— when you came into the picture they ramped up by a hundred, as they say.

⟡ He’s ashamed to even admit it to himself, ashamed to even think about it but… it makes him feel cathartic as he sits on his desk, agonisingly long papers sit atop his desk as he taps his fingers against his pen, clicking his tongue as his stressed thoughts wander to you. The way you quiver and squirm when he places his hands on your waist to keep you stable, the way you say ‘master Sunday’ when he goes too far with the feeding, the way your hips rut against his gloved hands when they ghost around your clothed sex; you’re oh so angelic when your neck is covered in your own blood, his fangs claiming you as his the moment they grazed your neck.

⟡ He wants to bite down on your pulse, he wants to tear you apart, he wants to cling onto you, tell you to never let go, he sees the want in your eyes, the desire and the love behind your lingering gaze and your lingering touches and yet he feels too ashamed to ever give the satisfaction of indulging…

⟡ His eyes that he didn’t realise were closed snap open as he hears a crack, he broke his pen in a desperate attempt at gripping it to stabilise his sinful thoughts, he sighs as he looks at the inky streaming down from his gloves as he thinks, ”would it be a sin to bite the apple, when I’ve already been born a sinner?”

Dr. Veritas Ratio

⟡ I don’t think he’d see it either as a bad or a good thing, it’s what he is, rather than lamenting and parading around with self pity, he’s taken the initiative to see the safest ways to feed on humans. The only thing is… he thinks the act of feeding on a person is rather… embarrassing.

⟡ He hates to admit it but he can get pretty desperate and messy, so he appreciates the fact that you don’t tease him when he is feeding on you, he is his most vulnerable self in that moment, he’s basically trusting you with his life. To some vampires human blood and the act of feeding on it is just a normal routine, some do it every day some do it every week and some do it every month, ratio does it every week to keep himself stable; and yet he just can’t adapt to it like others have, it’s so private and so vulnerable for him, you’ve seen him shed a few tears sometimes.

⟡ He feels guilty, no matter how much he tells himself that it’s just what he needs to do to survive now it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s drinking human blood now, his best guess is this sensitivity is because he’s been a vampire for roughly a year and a half now; he’s still adjusting.

⟡ You’ve suggested having sex while he feeds on you, his knee jerk reaction was a surprised, “absolutely not!” Though the more he thought about it, the more sense it kind of made. You’d feel good during the feeding and maybe, just kaybe the pleasure clouding his mind could keep his guilty thoughts at bay?

⟡ He was, admittedly, a bit nervous so you took action when he was in the bathtub, his favourite relaxing space as you let your hands wander down into the water, to his cock. He took a sharp breath as he closed his eyes, opening them when he felt the weight of you on his thighs, tapping his favourite spot to feed on on your neck as his hands snake around your form, pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep kiss as you sigh with pleasure. You withdraw from the kiss as you levitate yourself upwards a few inches with the help of the water, both of you moaning softly as you sink down on his dick, feeling his body quiver under you as his hips thrust up sharply.

⟡ You whine in pleasure as he sinks his fangs into your neck after peppering the spot with kisses, his hands kneading your ass as you slowly ride his cock, the pleasure has his mind foggy, his body numb and his cock hard, throbbing inside you as the taste of your blood hits his tongue. He should listen to your advice more often… maybe.

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lakesbian · 9 months

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attention everyone we have reached my personal favorite Line in worm

I stepped toward Sundancer and offered a hand to help her up. She flinched away. Oh. My hands were bloody. I dropped the offered hand to my side. “Let’s go,” I suggested.

there are a lot of good Lines in worm, and while i will acknowledge that many of them are sort of objectively more powerful culminating moments than this one, this one is still My Personal Favorite. Oh. My hands were bloody.

it's been obvious through the early arcs that taylor has a lot of repressed anger: she beats the shit out of rachel, even after being bitten. she outright admits to the other undersiders that she hasn't taken subtle revenge on the trio at school because she's afraid she would take it too far/it would obviously be her. she is, initially, unnerved by violence: she's a bit scared by the gun present in the loft, it creeps her out that brian knows every way to break a person's body, she feels guilt about the idea of any civilians being hurt during the bank robbery. but she still beat up rachel, and she still shoves bugs up the wards' noses during the robbery, and she still gleefully rides rachel's dog and laughs and hollers from the joy and the adrenaline rush of victory afterwards.

the expression of this repressed anger thru violence escalates further when her concussion leads her to slapping emma in the mall. in the principal's office, when it's clear that nothing she or her dad says will garner help with the bullying, she shouts and slaps papers off the table and asks what would happen if she brought a knife to school. after she and her dad leave the meeting, she calls lisa:

“Hey. How did it go?” I couldn’t find the words for a reply. “That bad?” “Yeah.” “What do you need?” “I want to hit someone.”

lisa invites her to a raid on the ABB so she can do that, and it's soo. Sooo Very. to watch how she cuts loose on it. she's so angry rachel notices it in how she's standing, and she's still confused about how rachel noticed. she's a confident leader when the fight goes crisis mode, she responds to rachel bucking against her orders by consistently shouting at rachel to "NOT fuck with me right now," she acts nigh-suicidally aggressive during her fight with lung, and she snarls "don't fucking underestimate me" when she takes him out using a caterpillar dipped in newter's blood.

all of this happens in relatively subtle increments. she doesn't notice how she progressively becomes comfortable expressing herself and taking charge instead of withdrawing or acting insecurely during the course of the mission. she doesn't notice that she's not horrified by dealing with newter's wound or seeing the sniper's broken leg. back in unmasked society, she was forced to consider how many of her aggressive actions were the result of the concussion loosening her impulse control--here, she repeatedly yells at bitch without a second thought. it's a place where her violence and anger isn't only acceptable but necessary. the circumstances normalize her outbursts and comfort with violence to her, leaving her blind to how alienated and dissociated and repressed and traumatized and furious and just Fucked Up she has to be to face down lung and then dig his eyes out.

when she says that she "doesn't believe in eye for an eye," in arc 4 alec asks her why the fuck she's a supervillain. his implicit assertion is clear: being a villain is, for him, about taking your revenge for being hurt out on whoever you can manage or justify, even if they're not the person who originally hurt you. and taylor thinks she's not doing that. but hey: she goes beyond just "hitting someone" and into literally taking lung's eyes as a culmination of the cathartic violence she's been engaging in as recompense for how she was mistreated earlier.

and the person who serves as a more "normal" reference point for how far taylor just escalated is sundancer: horrified by the idea of having to use her sun to hurt people, shocked by how casually violent taylor has been, flinching away from taylor when she turns to sundancer after committing that violence & tries to offer sundancer help.

because, oh. her hands are bloody. she hadn't even noticed how bloody they were getting, but they are.

deeply evocative one-line reminder of how taylor has changed in these first five arcs, without even noticing. and the best part is that, while the imagery of "oh. my hands were bloody" does convey that change in an incredibly brief and powerful way, the fact that taylor is saying it still means even she hasn't really realized. she thinks it's mainly just about the superficial, literal blood on her hands, and not the metaphorical blood on her hands that sundancer is disturbed by. it's good.

#wormtime 2 #wormtime 2 arc 5 #wormblr #parahumans

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facefullofsadness · 3 months

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I can't fall in love with you

university!au

crush!giselle x admirer!reader

prompt - minjeong is so in love with her girlfriend aeri, but so are you, and you can't be

content - angst, complicated relationship dynamics, alcohol usage, allusions to suicide

wc - 3378

a/n - cathartic: involving the release of strong emotions

the sky is covered with dark clouds, there must be rain today.

it's almost ironic how the weather works, considering the number of nights I've been crying recently. it's been weeks since I last talked to aeri. I've avoided her like the plague to run away from the reality of whatever was brewing inside me emotionally that I felt towards her. minjeong is an incredible girl and the only girl that should really matter in aeri's life, I can't possibly interrupt that, no matter how badly I want minjeong's girlfriend.

knowing aeri for months, we grew closer together, to each other. I got so attached to her; she listened to me, let me rant to her about anything I wanted to, important or irrelevant, took care of me in the moments where I felt out of control of my own life, guided me through the days where I didn't want to try anymore, held me and let me cry into her as I shattered into a million pieces. my heart would always swell thousands of times its original size when she would look at me with those soft and kind eyes, running her big hands through my hair and holding me close as I sobbed, her comforting words making me melt all over again.

I love her, I love her so much, but I know that having her is impossible. I'm not the girl in her life that she prioritizes above all, that she would run to even if I'm on the floor sobbing, even if she made me feel that way. I realized this and became terrified, so I ran away. I abandoned her even after promising to never do so, ghosting her in an effort to leave her to live her life as normal, without so much baggage weighing on her shoulders because of me. but I so badly wanted to go back to her, run into her embrace that would instantly cure me of my agony, but I fought myself instead.

I was a fool to think I could listen to my brain and not follow my heart. cause as I drink the last of my third bottle of alcohol of the night, drunk out of my mind, I couldn't stop myself from texting her. of course, I should've thrown out my phone long ago. incoherent words send themselves to aeri, letters I can barely comprehend. but only minutes later, my vision clears when she replies:

</3: come to the playground

the playground near my apartment, a place we knew well, a place we went to for amusement or solace. maybe, this time it was more for conclusion.

"I hate when you're like this."

aeri says as I stumble over myself to reach the pole holding the swing set up.

"you act like I'm self-destructive or something," I respond sarcastically, slurring over my words, the alcohol in my system taking over completely.

she sighs at what I said, "don't joke around. I don't want you killing yourself... don't you see how hard I'm trying for you? don't you know how much I care about you y/n? how fucking heartbreaking it is to see you like this?"

even intoxicated, I can hear the venom in her voice as she gets irritated with me.

I chuckle back, "oh whatever aeri, don't waste your energy on me."

"fuck you y/n, I can't keep doing this," aeri raises her voice, desperation and exhaustion evident in it.

silence hangs for a second as my world spins, vision blurry, the darkness of the night not helping at all. my stomach churns and my heart burns, aching. all the things I want to confess to her getting stuck in my throat, unable to release itself.

I hiccup once before uttering out, "then leave, don't waste your time on me."

the sound of aeri clenching her fists around the metal supports of the swing are loud enough to be heard, but then, it's silent again. the summer late night breeze flows through the air, a solo lamp post above us providing us with the faintest amount of light, distant chirps of cicadas to accompany the noise of passing cars in the street nearby. then, a choked sob from the girl next to me.

I turn towards her, almost throwing up at the sudden movement. aeri's crying, a single tear falls from her right eye, running down her cheek and falling to the sand below. there's no follow-up sobs, just silent teardrops running down her sweet devastated looking face. my whole chest tightens at the sight, making my head spin more as the alcohol clashes with my heartbreak.

"y/n, if you wanted to leave me, you should've just said so..." it's practically a whisper, barely audible to my dazed mind, but I'm fully zoned in on listening to anything aeri has to say in this moment.

her words sink in however, my stomach unsettled from a mixture of the verbal heartbreak and the physical coping mechanism dancing together in tragic collaboration.

"if you were just gonna leave me hanging for so long, you could've just told me," her voice is louder, "do you know how long I waited for you? do you know how badly I missed you? how badly I wanted to reach out to you? it's not like it would've mattered considering you'd just ignore me."

she continues, "I've tried so, fucking, hard, to ignore how badly it aches being without you," each word added with a pause to emphasize herself. "every single second that has passed since you left me, all I've been able to think about is you."

her eyes close shut as she now uses her hands as her emotions pour out her mouth, "I literally cannot stop thinking about you. my fucking head is just filled with you, you, you. I can't be normal, if my ears aren't filled with noise then the thoughts of you come flowing back in and I can't stop them from being loud."

she hangs her head, her arms falling limp beside her, voice quieting down into defeated sighs, "you promised y/n, you promised me you wouldn't leave. but I can't hate you, I've never been able to hate you or dislike you or feel an ounce of disdain or contempt towards you because I don't, I never will be able to. I only but love you. and I can't stop loving you and I don't know how to stop, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop, even if I tried it wouldn't work because I HAVE tried. and even then, I still fucking love you."

deafening silence hangs once again in the air, the tension palpable. I feel my chest squeeze, the overwhelming rush of emotions colliding with my fragile heart, feeling the liquid courage in my system turn to regret.

"always so eloquent with words, aren't you aeri?" my voice manages to squeak out, surprising myself, "but never enough to read the room."

she turns to look at me, eyes filled with tears. I hesitate from speaking, the words I want to say stuck at the back of my throat, stopping them from spilling out. if I weren't drunk enough to care, I'd listen to my thoughts, but my body reacts on its own, knowing that if I don't speak now, I'll hold this suppressed pain till the end.

"why do you think I've avoided you? why do you think I needed the space and distance? because I didn't want to see you? because I didn't wanna talk to you anymore? because you didn't make me happy anymore? didn't make me feel like the only girl to ever exist in this wicked fucking world, the only person to truly see and love me, the only person to make me feel like I mattered?"

I can't hold myself back as my emotions overflow from my tongue, unable to halt its onslaught, no longer in control of my own self.

I become louder, choked sentences turning into audible begs for her to listen, "do you really think my words meant nothing? that I didn't mean it when I said all those things to you? that you were the first person, the only person I would go to when I felt like shit? did you even listen to me?!"

"of course I fucking listened to you y/n! why are you acting like I'm stupid?!" aeri argues with me.

"because you're blind aeri!" I argue back, "can't you see?! can't you fucking see what's going on?!"

"I don't understand!"

"I'm in love with you aeri! I'm in love with all of you, every single part of you! I love your smile, your voice, your laugh, your body, your hands holding mine, your warm comforting hugs, your hums when I lay on your chest, your pats on my back when everything is too overwhelming, the affirmation you give when I feel like dying, the interest you show when I rant about something stupid, the shine in your eyes when you talk about your interests, the gentleness you give me when I'm crying, the love you make me feel when you simply exist in my presence and even if we're not together you still make me feel like I matter! I fucking love you!!!"

drops of rain softly fall to the ground around us, a light drizzle slowly emerging from the sky, the weight of my outburst heavy in the air.

my voice croaks, almost whispering, "I've fallen so deeply and harshly and intensely in love with you, every part of my body aches because while I love you, I cannot have you. I know you love me too but you can't love me the way I so desperately want you to, the way I so desperately love you."

the moon glistens in her eyes, shiny with tears and cheeks trailing with raindrops. so much pain painted on her face, and yet she's still so beautiful, my heart longs even harder for aeri.

"being around you makes me feel like the angel you say I am, makes me feel like I'm floating above the clouds and you're the reason why I'm able to do that, makes me feel like nothing else matters as long as I have you. but it also reminds me of how it's all not real, how I can't just have you, that I'm not your only one. it's minjeong and it should be, but my god do I wish it were me..." my voice weakens with the last part of the sentence, the tears streaming down my trembling cheeks.

"so aeri, I'm inexplicably sorry for breaking your heart, but mine is shattered too. my reality, this reality, it's unbearable, and I so badly yearn for you. I've been agonizingly in pain wanting you, needing you ever since I've left with no words, but resisting it because I can't ruin the good thing you and minjeong have. no matter how insanely desperate I am for you, I know it's not right for me to fight myself for you."

we both cry silently, the slight rustle of leaves from the trees around us in harmony with the serene but heartbreaking drizzle of rain muffled by the sand of the dark abandoned playground. it pained me greatly watching the love of my life look so utterly torn apart in front of me, me being the reason aeri was so broken. all I want to do is reach out to her, cup her precious face into my hands, wipe the salty tears from her cheeks, and kiss her plump trembling lips, reassure her that everything will be okay. but again, I can't, I couldn't, my shoes glued to the floor and hands clutching the material of my jacket, like I could hold in the pain aching in my chest.

"y/n..." her voice shaky, tone unrecognizable compared to the comforting and confident girl I knew, "I love you."

even though her voice was weak, what she said made my knees wanna give out, buckling at her words. she had told me she loved me before but this time she sounded different, it made my churning stomach fill with butterflies. my chest pounded harder as aeri started to walk closer to me, tiny but impactful steps as she was almost up against me. her warm hands carefully cupping my cheeks, thumbs caressing my skin and wiping my tears away as I melt completely into her touch. as my eyes close, I feel her forehead rest against mine, aeri's soft lips very slightly grazing mine, my hands falling to slip themselves into her hoodie, holding her close by her waist, afraid to let go.

I clutch her tightly, a contrast to the soft grasp aeri's hands hold my face in, so warm on my cheeks. even for this small moment in time that the two of us settle in, I feel all my anxiety and agony wash away with the rain, comforted and at peace with the world when I'm with her, the girl I'm so tragically in love with holding me like it's the only thing either of us want, need. god I wish this moment would last forever.

what I would give to kiss her right now. how badly I want to just close the miniscule amount of distance between us and feel her soft lips mold against my strawberry soju flavored ones. how desperately I want to pull her into me and never let go, making out with her breathlessly. and how painfully I hold myself back, restricting myself from acting upon any urge I harbor, not letting myself give my everything to the woman I love.

"aeri... I love you," my voice breaks in a sob, "and I'm sorry..."

I take a good look at my one and only girl for the last time, observing her perfection, how ethereal aeri uchinaga is to me. then I rip myself away from her warmth, turning and never looking back, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision of the already pitch black night.

I run. I run and run. I keep running. I cry, furiously. I can't see anything. all I can hear is the sound of my own sobs as I throw myself against the wall of a building and shrink to the floor, wailing into my arms.

the days that followed were a blur. I don't remember how the night ended, how I got home, what happened after, nothing. I didn't touch my phone, didn't contact or respond to anyone, just rotted the days away in my bed, eating or using the bathroom when my stomach hurt too much. not even a knock at the door would force me to get up from my asylum, not a phone call, not an urgent emergency, not anything that could possibly be of importance. simply because nothing mattered. I used to believe it would all be okay if nothing did matter, but my reason to keep believing is gone now, she's all gone.

looking out the window all day, the clouds were dark and heavy, steady drizzling from the sky once again. I took a trip to the kitchen, interrupted by a white envelope on the floor near the door. it compelled me forward, shakily opening it and feeling all of my emotions run back to me as soon as I recognized the handwriting.

dear y/n,

I don't know anymore. I've thought a lot about everything and I just, I've got nothing. nothing to tell you that'll make everything okay, that'll solve any problems or issues, that'll make anyone feel better. I'm sorry y/n, for letting all of this happen. I've come to the realization that it's out of my hands, emotions and love, they act on their own, but while I'm sure I can't completely blame myself for how you feel about me, I could've let you go softly instead of letting you love me, even if I didn't know. I got close to you, closer than I've ever gotten I think to anyone, not minjeong, not my friends, not my family, you. I should've known that our clinginess to each other would lead to such a demise.

I write all of this to say, ultimately, I love you. I still love you, I don't think I can bring myself to stop loving you, again, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. I'll be leaving soon, the fall semester is gonna start and I'll be gone and out of your hair in more ways than one before you know it. not that it matters but me and minjeong broke up. it was never gonna work out between us considering the differences in what we wanted and how impossible it was for us to be with one another. I could sense the end for us, I could feel her falling out of love with me. unfortunately I've lost one too many people I've loved deeply and I don't think I can reasonably recover ever from this.

y/n, if you're ever ready to love me again, in any way, shape, or form, I'll be there. I want you to know I'll never stop loving you, again, I fucking can't. I don't know why I keep holding onto you when I know it's over, I know we're over, I know you don't want to, or wish you could stop giving a fuck about me. so goodbye y/n. thank you for making me just the happiest girl I could've been for as long as you existed in this life of mine. you made me feel beautiful, gave me butterflies, made me feel like if everything in life fell apart and that if it was just me and you that it would be perfectly fine, like nothing or no one mattered as long as it was just us, you made me feel so fucking incredible, inside and out. I've never felt such euphoria from anyone before, and haven't felt so gorgeous until you came around, like the goddess you treated me as.

admittedly, I think you were slowly but very effectively taking my heart. I never let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long but deep down I knew that it was true. everything you said that night when I held your precious face in my hands, I couldn't ignore it, I was falling for you too. I wanted to kiss you so bad, to close my eyes as our lips met and ignore the world falling apart around us, but you pulled away and I stood there with my hands in the air covered in rain, feeling my heart break all over again. I love minjeong and I'll continue to love her till I die, but I don't think I was in love with her anymore, but in love now with you. letting you steal my heart while minjeong's heart was in my hands is regrettable, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself even if she never knows. though, I don't regret having fallen for you, I mean I wouldn't have if there was no reason to, right? but ultimately, it's my fault for letting two incredible people fall in love with me, someone who couldn't keep their hearts from breaking in the end.

I can't promise you this little life of mine will last long, I'm, broken, shattered, and quite frankly, I don't wanna try loving anymore, I think this might've been my last straw. I've never been good with love, you know that, and yet you loved me, maybe you still do. I don't know if I can handle anyone else falling in love with me and letting myself fumble with their precious emotions any longer, so taking out the middle man feels like the conclusion I've reached. we both ended up breaking our promises of staying for each other, didn't we? how ironic, isn't it y/n? I'm sorry for leaving you, but I can't find it in my own fragile heart to stay. so, thank you for being my friend, my love, mine.

I'll protect you from the other side,

your aeri

the rain outside started to pour.

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