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Entry tags:
.:Oh shit it's November:.
Who ⬤ Ganymede and Co.
What ⬤ You know what.
When ⬤ Nebulous times.
Where ⬤ Fine Wine, ΩQuiet Winter’s Wanderlust, Gany's McMansion, Net Slum, Protected Forbidden Pilgrim
Content Warnings ⬤ mentions of kidnapping, captivity, transphobia, dissociation, existential depression, and probably incoming other cws, lmao
What ⬤ You know what.
When ⬤ Nebulous times.
Where ⬤ Fine Wine, ΩQuiet Winter’s Wanderlust, Gany's McMansion, Net Slum, Protected Forbidden Pilgrim
Content Warnings ⬤ mentions of kidnapping, captivity, transphobia, dissociation, existential depression, and probably incoming other cws, lmao
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[ Ganymede says, performatively pouting. But, he doesn't mind, not really.
Then he's distracted by the kiss to his own nose, smiling a little. Though he does shift when he's settled down. Following Michel placing himself into the armchair beside him, Ganymede shifts to he can lay against him, head against his shoulder.
Excitedly, he'll ask: ]
Would it be in your colors? Like...black. You like black a lot, right?
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Michel isn't going to fuss over the details, just relaxing into the warmth as Ganymede settles in. Safely inside, he considers it a moment before switching back to his ordinary civilian clothes. So much more comfortable to cuddle in a turtleneck and slacks than armor, once he's in no danger of snow in his shoes... ]
I thought threatening your fashion would be more or a deterrent. [ Why does he sound so excited... ] ...Black is... comfortable? It matches everything. I like it well enough.
[ And colors only make him look even more pale in contrast. He likes his neutrals. Dignified, austere. Low effort. ]
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Well, with Michel switching back into civilian clothing, Ganymede can be more comfortable against his clothing than in armor. Also it's less colder through his clothing—though it isn't like even his cute coat is that much thin.
His answer is also not what he expected, though. He is thinking maybe of Michel's initial wear when they met (not in real life, but in the beginning of game...) ]
'I like it well enough' doesn't mean it's your favorite color, right? What's your favorite? The one you like best? Something you would choose over other colors if you felt it'd work out and like...share a kinship with?
[ He is asking this for reasons, even if it sounds kind of ridiculous. ]
Also, if I wear only a little of your color it doesn't threaten my fashion. I could incorporate it in somehow...depending on the clothing.
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The little cuff piercings along the outer shell of his ears are black. Maybe that's as good of an answer as either of them are going to get, although it's not as though he has only one set of earrings. ]
I suppose... that's also black? I don't really have something like that.
[ A kinship with a color, help. It's hard to imagine what that would mean to him. Although admittedly, as he turns through his options, he does feel an anti-kinship with some colors. Pink, or yellow...
Technically his image color is purple but he doesn't know that.]If I couldn't pick black... something like a wine red, or a dark purple... I suppose...
[ Sorry Ganymede. Your boyfriend has not an ounce of artistry in his soul and has never given this a moment's thought before. He only has colors that he hates being pushed on him. ]
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Though he does hear him list all those colors, and he seems to hum to himself a little bit. He pulls back for a moment, looking at his face. ]
Okay, okay...that's good enough for me.
[ The wheels are already a turning in his head for perhaps future fashion endeavors. Not just for himself, but Michel. They need to definitely go on a shopping spree once they get out of here. It doesn't seem like Michel's inclinations towards his array of colors (in confusion) are deterring him. Maybe even for some reason making Ganymede a bit brighter? ]
I have something for you. But first, close your eyes and hold out your right hand. Once you receive the thing I have, you can open them, okay?
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Something...? If this is a prank, I'm pushing you off the couch.
[ Delivered in tones of no menace whatsoever. Michel closes his eyes, and after a moment of inexplicable hesitation, stretches out his right hand palm-up. He's trying to look completely casual about it, but he's turning very slightly red again as he sits there. ]
1/????
[ As if he wouldn't, lol.
But, ah...Michel did it. Not that he hasn't been expecting otherwise. They trust each other so well.
...This isn't an ominous statement, really. It's just... ]
2/3
Nope. And then he has perhaps a realistic panic of, 'What if he hates it?'
Or, or—but it's also important. So he can't back out now. Or, well. ]
.....
3/4 because i'm a liar :>
He's confident. He's got this.
Michel won't hate it. He won't... ]
4/4
Αγαπητέ Michel Bollinger
Because of course he has always written down Michel's name. So he would have a record of it somewhere. And the letter has the other important word. ]
H-here!
[ He also almost falls back because he closes his eyes tight afterwards. He's got this. ]
1/2
Ganymede...
[ But before he can really start phrasing a protest, Ganymede's fingers brush his and something small and a little bit cold is pressed against his palm. His face goes all the way red now. Is he just jumping to conclusions...?
Very carefully, very slowly, he opens his eyes to peek. ]
2/2
Very carefully, he slips it onto his ring finger, righthanded. That was... where Ganymede wears his, isn't it? He assumes Greece is like Germany, although he hasn't asked. He can't seem to stop touching it even once it's on his finger, tracing it with his thumb over and over to remind himself that it's there. ]
You made this...?
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Still, hearing the other speak something else besides his name, gets him to open one eye. Then the other. ]
...y-yeah.
[ His voice is so small like Ganymede doesn't trust himself to speak, his cheeks coloring, hands brought together, held tight so that they don't tremble.
He has been wearing gloves, but it reminds him to take them off now, they're inside now. He shows him the ring Michel gave him, settled still firmly on his own right hand, on his ring finger. ]
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[ He had thought... no, it's in Gorre's memories too, isn't it? Even when Ganymede had come to visit him then, he must have been wearing it. His mind shies sideways from some of those memories, a nervous animal distrustful of even his own approach still. But he remembers that...
If it had been him, would he still have worn it? He's always fled from pain. He thinks he would have taken it off, put it safely in a box until he was certain just how agonizing those memories would become. But Ganymede is headstrong in a way Michel simply isn't.
He reaches out with both hands to cup them very gently around Ganymede's, unfolding them in warmth. ]
...In Greece, is it— [ No, Ganymede won't remember if he puts it like that. And Michel is stammering anyway, too flustered with what he needs to ask. ] T-that is... Ganymede, what does... wearing it on the right hand signify to you...?
[ It's too leading a question already. Maybe it doesn't signify anything at all. Michel's hands squeeze a little more tightly around Ganymede's, nervous in turn. ]
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[ Ganymede would never discard anything that's been given to him by Michel. Especially this. And he doesn't care what happened, he never would have taken the ring off.
But soon Michel's hands encircle his, moving against his own, the touch warm, gentle, and almost ridiculously all-consuming in the firelight of the lodge's glow. Somehow it's grounding even if he feels far too nervous to really be settled, and move past the butterflies taking flight. ]
It symbolizes that we're together forever. In life, in all things, and beyond.
I meant it when I said that, time and time again...and I want it to remain that way too. I...I want you to marry me.
[ Ganymede tried to make it sound longer than that, but he is just too nervous that it somehow turns into him making it so blunt that he feels like he just died. His face is bright red, at least.
But, feeling that squeeze to his hands, he knows that he isn't the only one. ]
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He'd understood enough to give Ganymede that promise without any constraints, even when everything in his heart was resisting being bound to a place, a world he did not want to be. He had made his peace with leaving behind every person he'd left a letter to. But there's a stark difference between committing those words to paper and looking them in the eyes, seeing that hurt for himself.
He's still working through that thought when Ganymede continues, and Michel squishes the hands held between his gently as his grip closes in reflexive surprise. ]
I-I...?
[ Wait a minute. Before all of this, he'd begun to daydream about proposing to Ganymede. What sort of setting he would like, what romantic gestures. He hadn't expected to be preempted. Perhaps by some sixth sense on Ganymede's part that each additional anchor right now is a needed weight to keep him from slipping away.
Unfortunately for Ganymede's nerves, he's too busy staring at Ganymede in surprise for a few seconds longer to do more than stammer. ]
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His own reaction in the face of other things isn't so surprising. Though Ganymede starts to panic a little. Did he surprise him? What if that, like, overwhelmed him?
What if...what if he didn't want to anymore? Then again just because he gave him a ring didn't mean he wanted to marry him, right? It could just mean that...that, what? ]
...Michel?
[ His hands are squished (softly) and he is experiencing acute anxiety. He is just maybe making sure he didn't murder Michel in shock amongst all his own doubts. ]
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[ He is, most certainly, overwhelmed. His mind is churning in circles much too much to even make sense of things, thoughts skittering from one place to the next too quickly to make sense of anything.
His fingers move restlessly, stroking over the back of Ganymede's hands. Possibly soothingly. Certainly restlessly touching the ring Ganymede still wears, lightly and disbelieving. ]
C-can we even get married here...?
[ But that's not a worry that Ganymede needs to deal with. He tries to rein in his runaway thoughts again and clears his throat softly. ]
I... I did promise you that I would stay by your side, this time. And I meant... every word.
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I-I want to get married not only just here! Just...just to make it clear. Not only just here, if we can get married here at all, but especially when we return back home. I don't remember much about Greece, but, I...
[ His memories are a mess, but he sees himself in his messages talking about his home and the descriptions, the pictures...they don't match any place in Fragment.
And now with that singular memory back thanks to the Gorre fight, he has a taste of his former life, in its most bitter state, but one nonetheless. A red-haired male, smiling at him like the sun god, though even with himself restrained in that room, he saw a light brighter than that smile, outside a window, into a world that looks nothing like this one. ]
I'm happy, that you're keen on honoring that promise. That you mean every word, and that you still...want that.
[ The gentle strokes against his hands, are, of course very welcome in this, even as they touch featherlight over his ring. His emotions are running wild, but warm, and also embarrassingly like he's going to get mushy and affection over Michel, so maybe it isn't surprising that he kisses him, lightly, gently, on the lips. ]
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Before they were trapped, it was all so clear in his mind. What he needed to do for himself. How he would go to Greece, how he would win Ganymede over all over again — unnecessarily, even. What their wedding would look like, even if it had no legal standing. Now... Can he still believe in that image? In himself?
He no longer believes he's someone who belongs at Ganymede's side. He had, before this... tentatively, but still. He remembers but can't rekindle the feeling. ]
It... may not be as simple as you're imagining.
[ But this is like the promise he made before, isn't it? Ganymede isn't looking for his logic and his rationality. He's looking for Michel's heart, the one thing Michel no longer believes in his own knowledge of.
He swallows hard. And he thinks of the clear nervousness in the way Ganymede looked at him, the way Ganymede's kiss is so light against his lips. He isn't the only one afraid. He still... has to tell him properly. ]
...Y-yes. I do... I do still mean that. Deeply. I want to stay with you. In, in whatever form that takes...
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He hears those words, hesitant. Then, a conversation not too long ago passes through his head. About Michel's lack of certainty, but he hadn't sounded hopeless at all. Struggling, but still hopeful. ]
...Then, then...
[ Ganymede stumbles, as he doesn't know how to assuage the demons inside of Michel's head just yet, and maybe he can't. But, maybe Michel can gain the courage to face it all without flinching once more with courage in his heart. The hurt caused, to him, to others, to his loved ones. To also look towards the unknown waiting ahead with certainty.
...Or so he hopes. Maybe that is why instead of dismay or despair, he looks at Michel with a gentle look in his eyes, and continues. ]
That's what matters the most, doesn't it? We're still here, together. We've stuck it out this far, even through what's happened.
I know...that you're trying. I can't pretend that things are like before, and neither can you.
But, it doesn't mean it's impossible. Our union doesn't have to be complicated, either. If we say it happened, no matter what anyone thinks, what we believe is more important, isn't it? So...even if you can't imagine the light of the other world easily, or believe we can manage this celebration of our partnership ourselves...
Let's still keep working towards it, and until then, believe in me. I'll carry that faith for the both of us, until we make it all happen. Or until you can believe again.
[ He shifts his hands so he can lightly squeeze Michel's in turn. It's not as bombastic as he likes, but if he can put at least a spark in his beloved's heart, even a little, then he'll settle for that. ]
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He watches Ganymede stumbling through his explanation, that gentle look in his eyes. Ganymede always, always is so determined. And he still refuses to be the one who takes that from him. He leans down to press a light kiss to his forehead and then hesitates again. ]
This is... the worst time for me to explain myself properly, isn't it...?
[ Right in the middle of Ganymede's proposal, no less. Which... he does think he accepted properly, at least. Though it probably bears repeating. He turns his hands a little in Ganymede's to just allow him to hold them as Michel turns over his words. ]
I can picture the other world. I believe... that there is a future ahead of this. What I can't picture any longer is myself. All of these memories, of my life, of that time as Gorre... I no longer know who I am. I can't imagine who the person standing by your side is supposed to be, now or in that future. It's like picturing a silhouette, or a shadow.
[ And how he goes about beginning to rebuild that... He nuzzles a tiny bit at Ganymede's hair, soft and beginning to warm again in the heat of the fire. ]
...I cannot draw my image of myself from what's reflected by the people around me. When I wrote those letters, I was thinking— I was thinking that I could preserve something, that I could offer it back to the people I loved. But all I could do is impose my own limited interpretation on all of you. I realized, after Gorre... every person telling me who I am, that my cruelty was understandable, that I am kind, that I am loved, that I am flawed but worthwhile, that I am human, that... [ He trails off again; there are too many. ] ...All of them... sound like those whispers in my ear now. That I never truly understood myself. That I will never know. And if even a single part of Gorre came from me, then I wish—
[ He falters and draws in a slow breath. He's veering away from the topic and into murkier waters. He finally curls his hand around Ganymede's again, lifting it so he can press a gentle kiss to the back of it.
He knows Ganymede now much better than he knows himself. He's certain he doesn't need to ask Ganymede if he's certain. If Michel is really the one he wants. If this is worthwhile to him. But he's so desperately afraid to ask him what Michel it is that he envisions. How fragile is he right now, and how easily will he simply be overwritten again by whatever is reflected back at him? He doesn't, in his heart, believe he hated himself before this. But now... ]
It's something... I can only work through for myself. Things cannot be like they were before, it's true. I don't know if I will ever trust in myself again. But... I believe in you. And I believe you deserve happiness. [ Even if he can't, won't understand why he's still part of that. ] I will keep moving forward with you. ...I want to see that for myself. Even now.
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[ This truly is horrid timing. Ganymede had been hoping that it would be something uplifting, joyful...at the worst, just surprising, maybe. Still, there are probably worse times, right?
But, part of Michel's struggles are different than simply confronting what's ahead, not because he doesn't think he could make it. Though, to be fair, he had an inkling he would be struggling over what happened as a result of Gorre. So, frankly put:
None of what he is saying here is surprising. It's the depth of this, that has Ganymede almost feel like at a loss, but even that doesn't last long. Never does.
Maybe it's because, even though their experiences wildly differ, that he could never say he was made to lose control to turn himself to hurt those he loved, he knows...if their positions were reversed, Michel would pour every ounce of himself into supporting him.
Yet, with every single piece of affection Michel gives that warms him deeply, fills Ganymede with undeniable happiness, his own heart grows darker with enmity towards everyone who has harmed him. A hatred that is nursed with each and every word that has fallen from Michel's lips. It makes him think, that for the pain of it all, Apollo certainly hadn't been right. Hatred is more than 'a good way to spend time'.
Ganymede can't allow anyone to touch him again. And those who had ought to have suffered the way he has. But, of them all, he knows it's prudent to grant Cubia a quick death. So, that will be the first step.
Then, the others will come after. ]
Some people will never understand who they are, and are defeated by their own shadows. You're not like that. This is far different from that, even if it doesn't feel like otherwise.
And those letters...it helped more than you might realize. I even spoke about it with Yuui, before we had to come to the Cathedral. We were happy—so happy, that you thought to give those, to leave those behind. Even if at the time, you didn't intend for those to be a message of a hope, we took it exactly as that. That, at least, some part of you didn't want to let go. That you gave back to us something which was stolen away.
Though I know...you'll have to carry the weight of everything all on your hands. So, if these words can't reach you just yet, just know—
I'll always believe in you. Believe in that you'll be able to work past what has happened, and even when you're feeling overwhelmed, like you're about to stumble...you know that I'll be here. Ready to do all I can for you. So that one day when you see all of that for yourself, you can also understand at that time you deserve as much happiness as I do.
Because it isn't like you deserved to have yourself turned into your own worst enemy either. And I will always love you, no matter what, Michel...my dear, my love—my everything.
[ His words are spoken gently, even now, feeling his resolve strengthen, but he pulls his hands back so he can envelope Michel in a hug, hold him close. Michel might be fragile still, but Ganymede truly does believe he can get through this again. One day, he truly will be able to stand on his own feet, look at those shadows, and be not afraid to understand himself in his entirety. ]
no subject
I meant... for them to be comforting, at the least. I had hopes for all of you. [ That they could hold onto themselves, that they could stay safe. Some of that had been dashed, but... ] I accepted whatever would be necessary to be certain Gorre was gone for good. But before he seized control, it isn't that I wanted to leave you. No matter how many doubts he left me with in the days leading up to... everything.
[ Eating away at his memories, undermining all the parts of him that could have had faith in his own survival. That could have seen it as a positive thing if he did. Now, well... The situation has fundamentally changed. And he can never know what parts of him might have permanently been lost. But he is still here, and so many people keep reaching out a hand to him and waiting for him to take it so they can tug him onward.
He relaxes into that gentle hug, just taking in the warmth of it for a moment before he shifts a little. He can still do this with his blade brandier stats, can't he? He tries to tug Ganymede up into his lap and wrap his arms around him properly, although the boldness of the gesture makes him blush again. ]
I-I should have told you this first. [ Before short-circuiting. ] ...The ring is beautiful. I love it. And I love you, Ganymede. I may... always be the gloomy kind of person who thinks of all the practical impossibilities before everything else. But, truly... you've made me happy.
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He'll even kill for Michel and that is not an exaggeration. That said, seeing the way he relaxes, it's a relief. It's also something of one when Michel says that he didn't want to leave them. He had suspected, even if all along Michel might have started feeling differently following Gorre's complete takeover. It's probably one of the few times he is right and proud of it. ]
...I know. I remember those words you imparted to me, and somehow, I thought that with everything that happened, you going away, or even leaving our lives for good...that's not what you intended even as you wrote those letters.
[ He thinks back to when Gorre tried to get in one last word. Even then he refuted that too. That comment about 'immaterial' or whatever it was. Whatever the case, Michel is here now, and he gives the best hugs; proven when he is hefted straight into his lap, which does net an unintended little laugh from him. In mild surprise, but also happiness, as he leans into him, rubbing his face against the crook of Michel's neck. The bold gesture is more than welcome. ]
Fortunately for the both of us, I'll also let you know this little secret:
Gloomy men are exactly my type.
A-Anyway, I was really waiting for you to give those details about the ring, and um, it's an Alexandrite. In case you didn't know. Also. it's good to know you like it a lot...and that I can make you happy at all. I'll be making sure to keep it up. You look really beautiful when you smile, after all.
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we can probs wrap here!!
SLAPS A CUTE BLUE BOW ON IT