[ Sorry Ginger, this isn't a position Day often finds himself in. The Division of Serenity is pretty open about this sort of thing, but he hasn't like, propositioned anyone in almost two years. ]
Sorry, I was just—sortin' out some thoughts. [ i.e. It's not Ginger's fault. ]
I... [ Open his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. ] I can help you with that. If doin' it by yourself all the time's frustratin'. Standin' offer, no strings attached. You can take it or leave and I won't make a fuss either way.
[ It is maybe impressive that he's not actually blushing when he's saying this, but there is an air of embarrassment nonetheless because now that he's put it out there he has to live with whatever comes next. ]
[ ...Surprisingly pure-hearted. It's actually kind of cute? ]
It ain't like I proposition just anyone. [ He's only ever* done it with people he likes** as people, but he gets the feeling Ginger doesn't mean it the same way.
He will let the meaning of that just hang there. Ginger can interpret it however he wants to.
* Aside from one incident where he underestimated celestial wine and got blackout drunk. Lesson learnt. ** Now, love on the other hand, is a very different matter. ]
...And I'm guessin' that ain't the case for me? [ He doesn't sound hurt, because he's kept his expectations low, but he is kind of curious. ]
[ He really doesn’t. The thing is… he had never considered that anyone would ever like him in that way, so he didn’t think to… look for it.
He’s spent his entire life, literally, revolving around one person - one friend, one love. It’s easy to recognize his feelings for Rum, so used to looking at him with those eyes.
But it’s like he automatically turns it off with other people. ]
I know I’m not just anyone to you. We’re friends, but - I didn’t know you were a possibility? Do… you like me… like that?
[ You know, when he laid out that offer it was with an expectation it would be casual. That's why he said no strings attached. He wasn't really expecting more out of it, since, haha, what are the chances Ginger would even entertain liking him like that?
[ Which leads into the other internal conundrum: Day hasn't fallen in love since before he became a Sidereal, and suddenly being confronted with the prospect that he might be in love now is terrifying in a way he didn't think he was ever going to experience. Something in the recesses of his heart wants to leap up, seize his throat and tell him to run, a knee-jerk response to a first love that he could do nothing but watch slip through his fingers.
He has the sense to catch it before he does anything stupid. ]
I... [ Fuck. ] ...You're cute. Your smile's beautiful, the way you get excited over flowers is lovely. I've basically thrown up all kindsa feelings I've never told anyone onto you, and you haven't destroyed me with them yet. And...I find myself wishin' I could love you until you can find serenity in yourself.
So... [ And despite what he just said, he's not sure if he can really call this "love" yet, when he has to grapple with old hurts. ] Yeah. I think I do.
[ Day's confession is spreads far and wide and selfless like the sky. Ginger's happy, he is, but he knows the fear of liking someone like that. And he's scared Day will cloud over when he learns that Ginger isn't worth his feelings, when Ginger doesn't know how to like someone who isn't Rum.
(Is it possible? Could he try?)
'And without any reason, I would become happy or sad with just a single word from him.' Ginger's thoughts from a time that feels so long ago now.
Is this how Day feels about him? How? When? Why? He doesn't understand how it's possible for Day to feel this way - about him. The happiness that comes from liking someone is like nothing else, he knows, he knows, but the sadness - it cuts deeper than anything. Somehow, Day's given him that power.
And Ginger - doesn't want to be the person to hurt him. He doesn't ever want to hurt him. ]
... You... [ (...Could he try... for Day?) ] Day, I... don't have the pretty words you do. But... you can love me if you want, if it won't hurt you. If loving me will make you even a little bit happy, I'd... like that I think. Right now, I don't know if I can - if I will return your feelings. I like you, but...
[ (He's willing to.) ]
I think I'm still learning how to be a person without... Rum. Give me some time? To try.
[ On a lot of levels, Ginger's response is more than Day was ever expecting. He knows to keep his expectations low when it comes to love, an attitude that has helped him skirt around well-meaning matchmaking attempts and other advances since he also has the mind to want to avoid romance.
In a way, it's a good sign that Ginger is hesitating because it means he's thinking, deliberating. After all, Day isn't entirely sure what he's doing here either. He knows this feeling can be called love, but in the back of his mind, he can still feel wounds threatening to seep poison into them.
(It's not going to matter in the end, anyway. He can always move on from you, but where does that leave you? Do you want to put the pieces back together another time, and there might not be much left by then?)
...It hardly seems fair to Ginger when the only time Day's fallen in love is associated with—that.
So this isn't a bad situation to be in. Time has not healed that hurt, and he hasn't exactly been trying to address it, but he'll have to sooner rather than later now. ]
...I can't say I'll— [ He tries to pick his words here, hoping he won't be misunderstood. ] —that I'll never feel hurt. It just happens sometimes. [ He's played matchmaker enough times to know love isn't always straightforward. ] But...bein' with you makes me happy, and I hope I make you happy too. We've got time to figure things out. [ Time that's only as long as they're here and the moon threatens the world, perhaps, but time nonetheless. ]
It's fine if you end up not feelin' the same way. [ A safeguard against heartbreak the more cynical part insists on. A sincere wish for this to be true the kinder part pushes forward. ] I just...
[ ...This will be the one selfish thought he'll allow himself to voice. ]
I just don't want this to be something that can be replaced.
[ Because that is the result of when the forgetting sets in, the salt rubbed into the wound: people forget, and fate smooths out the wrinkles left behind. People are very good at explaining away the things that seem just a little off, actions and meaning with forgotten causes assigned to different ones. Forgotten relationships subsume into remembered ones. The world will keep moving, but the Chosen of the stars are left behind, still like their ties to the night sky.
Day is no longer a simple mortal, but he's still only 23. There hasn't been enough time for him to become inured to this. ]
[ That, he can answer with certainty, blue eyes clear of any doubts. He says quietly: ]
You are not replaceable. I’m not… very reliable… with other people’s emotions - [ As selfish and as possessive as he is, sometimes he can only see so far. And sometimes, it’s because he doesn’t care to see. But when he does care about someone, he does it with the whole of him, throwing everything in. ] - but… trust me with at least that?
Trust me to know that there’s only one Joyous Day, and there will ever only be one.
[ He has not thrown everything in for Day. They both know that - maybe that’s why Day keeps his expectations low. But there is a pile that is building - a flower; afternoon wine served in mugs; two strangers on a bench; eyes as pretty as starlight that occasionally flash hope like the rising sun at dawn, shy over the horizon; eyes as dark as twilight waiting for Day's end, finality at midnight; and the idea that love endures. It's the start of something. ]
[ This is what "love endures" is meant to answer, in its sincerest form: “How can you trust me,” he asked, “with such horror behind you?”
It's too late for Day to take back what he's already given, no matter how much a part of him still wants an out. The moment he said he wanted to try to remain in Ginger's memories, he had set himself on that path. With the earnestness in Ginger's eyes, Day finds the only answer he can give is— ]
I trust you.
[ What a funny but joyous feeling, trusting someone like this. This ridiculous man who tears up so easily when embarrassed, and who says he won't let him go. It brings out a rare type of smile from Day, and his hand tentatively reaches for Ginger's as if asking if it's alright for him to hold it. Which is a little silly, given how earlier he'd practically grabbed Ginger's face to scrub his tears, but that was before he had confessed. ]
[ He doesn’t mean the trust, though that clearly touches him in a way that makes his smile turn shy and a little embarrassed, but warm.
He means Day’s smile. Raw and vulnerable - and it makes Ginger want to protect his heart all the more. He squeezes Day’s hand, taking note of the similarities between his own and Day’s. His fingers and knuckles are more narrow, but they make a good mirror to each other this way. So similar and so different. ]
I’m a little sorry you’re wasting that on me, but mostly… I’m not. I’m happy, honestly.
Sharin' joy and serenity with someone else ain't ever a waste. And it definitely ain't a waste on you. [ He says this sincerely like it should be a universal truth. And there is that word again, "serenity".
Day tries to take in how it feels to hold Ginger's hand, how they're different and similar. He wonders if Ginger can even get callouses since he's a celestial being, compared to his own hand where practice, training and labour have shaped it. He's pretty sure Ginger is older than him too because the way he talks about eternity gives it away, but it's easy to forget that when he gets shy and flustered the way he does. ]
You don't have to feel awkward 'bout the, ah, urges 'round me. [Whether it's the fact he has them at all or if he ever needs to talk about them. Day feels like he should say this since he's turned out to be the dedicated post-feeding session healer for Ginger. ] The Division of Serenity handles lotta stuff related to that sorta thing, so I'm used to it.
[ But it is, Ginger’s troubled, weary, worried heart insists. Eventually, he’ll make a big mistake with Day, too. It’ll happen - surely - because he’s a demon who can’t sit still, but once he’s up, indecisiveness guides his every action. And control is something he will always, always struggle with.
The most he can do is keep trying. He can be careful with the parts he’s given to safeguard.
In the end, it’s Day’s decision. ]
The Division of Serenity? Why is… um… that stuff… under your division?
[ The more time Day spends around Ginger, especially during moments of heated battle, he’ll find that angels don’t scar and hybrids like Ginger are no exception. Ginger can fall ill, can get hurt, but no traces will remain once he’s healed. That’s why he thinks the internal hurts are the worst, the scariest. They scar over and only you know how ugly they are. ]
[ (When will I actually get Day into a fight and let him punch something.) Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Day is steadily giving more to Ginger, bit by bit—in the things he shares with him, and how he's gradually letting his guard down. "Joyous Day" is becoming attainable and less like the morning mist, one way or another.
Again, Ginger is probably the only person he'd tell any of this without having to mull over whether he should, if only because the vibe of overworked celestial bureaucrat is so powerful he doesn't need to worry about whether Ginger gets it. ]
We handle destinies involvin' relationships. [ And he gives a slight Look with raised eyebrows as if to say, "You can probably guess what that includes, yeah?" ] ...Never did ask you what you do, either. [ They both just went "same hat" so hard that neither of them actually asked what bureaucracy they were involved in,,, ]
[ They really did do that and skipped any actually explanations. ]
Oh - it's... a little complicated to explain, but I'll try. I don't actually work - or interact with humans all that often. But have you noticed? More and more, humans need beings like us less and less to help guide them.
[ He holds his palms out and then aligns them together. ]
Eventually, I think, they won't need us at all. They're evolving at a terrifying speed - with their technology, their intelligence, their awareness. And at this point, they have also created... infinite life with their imagination.
I'm tasked with keeping an eye on those creations. We call them the 3rd mankind. [ First for angels and demons, second for humans. ] Usually, they're written with plot, imagined in specific worlds - but not always. They can change across mediums. As you can imagine, the worlds of the 3rd mankind truly are... infinite.
[ As Ginger explains that, Day tries to imagine what he's describing: a world that doesn't need Heaven. It is...honestly, almost impossible for Day, because he knows how Heaven works back home. It manages and oversees a slew of things in the mortal realm: weather patterns, the seasons, love, war and peace, colors, and so on. Mortals pray to the gods for favor and succor (and, occasionally, worse things), theoretically a cycle of giving and receiving.
Considering he knows of at least one near-complete collapse of society in the past and that its ravages can still be felt hundreds of years later, the time when mortals don't need Heaven or divine intervention, however indirect, seems very far off. Is it even possible in a world so prone to disaster? ]
I can't say it's quite the same back home. Feels like every other week there's some kinda crisis we need to intervene in to prevent worse things from happenin'. [ He almost envies the position Ginger's Heaven seems to be in. ]
So it's like...even fictional worlds made by mortals exist in their own right? And that's what you guys manage?
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What... [ And it doesn't help that Ginger can't read Day's expression. ] Just say it.
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Sorry, I was just—sortin' out some thoughts. [ i.e. It's not Ginger's fault. ]
I... [ Open his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. ] I can help you with that. If doin' it by yourself all the time's frustratin'. Standin' offer, no strings attached. You can take it or leave and I won't make a fuss either way.
[ It is maybe impressive that he's not actually blushing when he's saying this, but there is an air of embarrassment nonetheless because now that he's put it out there he has to live with whatever comes next. ]
/2
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[ Is he actually a pure maiden at heart? Probably. That’s what happens when your mom is an angel or purity. ]
I - I, uh. Haven’t done this with someone else before and - I don’t know if… I could do it unless I liked them in that way, at least a little.
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It ain't like I proposition just anyone. [ He's only ever* done it with people he likes** as people, but he gets the feeling Ginger doesn't mean it the same way.
He will let the meaning of that just hang there. Ginger can interpret it however he wants to.
* Aside from one incident where he underestimated celestial wine and got blackout drunk. Lesson learnt.
** Now, love on the other hand, is a very different matter. ]
...And I'm guessin' that ain't the case for me? [ He doesn't sound hurt, because he's kept his expectations low, but he is kind of curious. ]
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[ He really doesn’t. The thing is… he had never considered that anyone would ever like him in that way, so he didn’t think to… look for it.
He’s spent his entire life, literally, revolving around one person - one friend, one love. It’s easy to recognize his feelings for Rum, so used to looking at him with those eyes.
But it’s like he automatically turns it off with other people. ]
I know I’m not just anyone to you. We’re friends, but - I didn’t know you were a possibility? Do… you like me… like that?
[ Why…? ]
1/3
Wait. ]
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Wow Day you're a godsdamned idiot. ]
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He has the sense to catch it before he does anything stupid. ]
I... [ Fuck. ] ...You're cute. Your smile's beautiful, the way you get excited over flowers is lovely. I've basically thrown up all kindsa feelings I've never told anyone onto you, and you haven't destroyed me with them yet. And...I find myself wishin' I could love you until you can find serenity in yourself.
So... [ And despite what he just said, he's not sure if he can really call this "love" yet, when he has to grapple with old hurts. ] Yeah. I think I do.
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(Is it possible? Could he try?)
'And without any reason, I would become happy or sad with just a single word from him.' Ginger's thoughts from a time that feels so long ago now.
Is this how Day feels about him? How? When? Why? He doesn't understand how it's possible for Day to feel this way - about him. The happiness that comes from liking someone is like nothing else, he knows, he knows, but the sadness - it cuts deeper than anything. Somehow, Day's given him that power.
And Ginger - doesn't want to be the person to hurt him. He doesn't ever want to hurt him. ]
... You... [ (...Could he try... for Day?) ] Day, I... don't have the pretty words you do. But... you can love me if you want, if it won't hurt you. If loving me will make you even a little bit happy, I'd... like that I think. Right now, I don't know if I can - if I will return your feelings. I like you, but...
[ (He's willing to.) ]
I think I'm still learning how to be a person without... Rum. Give me some time? To try.
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In a way, it's a good sign that Ginger is hesitating because it means he's thinking, deliberating. After all, Day isn't entirely sure what he's doing here either. He knows this feeling can be called love, but in the back of his mind, he can still feel wounds threatening to seep poison into them.
(It's not going to matter in the end, anyway. He can always move on from you, but where does that leave you? Do you want to put the pieces back together another time, and there might not be much left by then?)
...It hardly seems fair to Ginger when the only time Day's fallen in love is associated with—that.
So this isn't a bad situation to be in. Time has not healed that hurt, and he hasn't exactly been trying to address it, but he'll have to sooner rather than later now. ]
...I can't say I'll— [ He tries to pick his words here, hoping he won't be misunderstood. ] —that I'll never feel hurt. It just happens sometimes. [ He's played matchmaker enough times to know love isn't always straightforward. ] But...bein' with you makes me happy, and I hope I make you happy too. We've got time to figure things out. [ Time that's only as long as they're here and the moon threatens the world, perhaps, but time nonetheless. ]
It's fine if you end up not feelin' the same way. [ A safeguard against heartbreak the more cynical part insists on. A sincere wish for this to be true the kinder part pushes forward. ] I just...
[ ...This will be the one selfish thought he'll allow himself to voice. ]
I just don't want this to be something that can be replaced.
[ Because that is the result of when the forgetting sets in, the salt rubbed into the wound: people forget, and fate smooths out the wrinkles left behind. People are very good at explaining away the things that seem just a little off, actions and meaning with forgotten causes assigned to different ones. Forgotten relationships subsume into remembered ones. The world will keep moving, but the Chosen of the stars are left behind, still like their ties to the night sky.
Day is no longer a simple mortal, but he's still only 23. There hasn't been enough time for him to become inured to this. ]
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You are not replaceable. I’m not… very reliable… with other people’s emotions - [ As selfish and as possessive as he is, sometimes he can only see so far. And sometimes, it’s because he doesn’t care to see. But when he does care about someone, he does it with the whole of him, throwing everything in. ] - but… trust me with at least that?
Trust me to know that there’s only one Joyous Day, and there will ever only be one.
[ He has not thrown everything in for Day. They both know that - maybe that’s why Day keeps his expectations low. But there is a pile that is building - a flower; afternoon wine served in mugs; two strangers on a bench; eyes as pretty as starlight that occasionally flash hope like the rising sun at dawn, shy over the horizon; eyes as dark as twilight waiting for Day's end, finality at midnight; and the idea that love endures. It's the start of something. ]
You do… make me happy.
[ That… is also said with certainty. ]
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It's too late for Day to take back what he's already given, no matter how much a part of him still wants an out. The moment he said he wanted to try to remain in Ginger's memories, he had set himself on that path. With the earnestness in Ginger's eyes, Day finds the only answer he can give is— ]
I trust you.
[ What a funny but joyous feeling, trusting someone like this. This ridiculous man who tears up so easily when embarrassed, and who says he won't let him go. It brings out a rare type of smile from Day, and his hand tentatively reaches for Ginger's as if asking if it's alright for him to hold it. Which is a little silly, given how earlier he'd practically grabbed Ginger's face to scrub his tears, but that was before he had confessed. ]
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[ He doesn’t mean the trust, though that clearly touches him in a way that makes his smile turn shy and a little embarrassed, but warm.
He means Day’s smile. Raw and vulnerable - and it makes Ginger want to protect his heart all the more. He squeezes Day’s hand, taking note of the similarities between his own and Day’s. His fingers and knuckles are more narrow, but they make a good mirror to each other this way. So similar and so different. ]
I’m a little sorry you’re wasting that on me, but mostly… I’m not. I’m happy, honestly.
[ That’s a smile he’s determined to remember. ]
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Day tries to take in how it feels to hold Ginger's hand, how they're different and similar. He wonders if Ginger can even get callouses since he's a celestial being, compared to his own hand where practice, training and labour have shaped it. He's pretty sure Ginger is older than him too because the way he talks about eternity gives it away, but it's easy to forget that when he gets shy and flustered the way he does. ]
You don't have to feel awkward 'bout the, ah, urges 'round me. [Whether it's the fact he has them at all or if he ever needs to talk about them. Day feels like he should say this since he's turned out to be the dedicated post-feeding session healer for Ginger. ] The Division of Serenity handles lotta stuff related to that sorta thing, so I'm used to it.
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The most he can do is keep trying. He can be careful with the parts he’s given to safeguard.
In the end, it’s Day’s decision. ]
The Division of Serenity? Why is… um… that stuff… under your division?
[ The more time Day spends around Ginger, especially during moments of heated battle, he’ll find that angels don’t scar and hybrids like Ginger are no exception. Ginger can fall ill, can get hurt, but no traces will remain once he’s healed. That’s why he thinks the internal hurts are the worst, the scariest. They scar over and only you know how ugly they are. ]
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(When will I actually get Day into a fight and let him punch something.)Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Day is steadily giving more to Ginger, bit by bit—in the things he shares with him, and how he's gradually letting his guard down. "Joyous Day" is becoming attainable and less like the morning mist, one way or another.Again, Ginger is probably the only person he'd tell any of this without having to mull over whether he should, if only because the vibe of overworked celestial bureaucrat is so powerful he doesn't need to worry about whether Ginger gets it. ]
We handle destinies involvin' relationships. [ And he gives a slight Look with raised eyebrows as if to say, "You can probably guess what that includes, yeah?" ] ...Never did ask you what you do, either. [ They both just went "same hat" so hard that neither of them actually asked what bureaucracy they were involved in,,, ]
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Oh - it's... a little complicated to explain, but I'll try. I don't actually work - or interact with humans all that often. But have you noticed? More and more, humans need beings like us less and less to help guide them.
[ He holds his palms out and then aligns them together. ]
Eventually, I think, they won't need us at all. They're evolving at a terrifying speed - with their technology, their intelligence, their awareness. And at this point, they have also created... infinite life with their imagination.
I'm tasked with keeping an eye on those creations. We call them the 3rd mankind. [ First for angels and demons, second for humans. ] Usually, they're written with plot, imagined in specific worlds - but not always. They can change across mediums. As you can imagine, the worlds of the 3rd mankind truly are... infinite.
It's their prayers that we answer.
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Considering he knows of at least one near-complete collapse of society in the past and that its ravages can still be felt hundreds of years later, the time when mortals don't need Heaven or divine intervention, however indirect, seems very far off. Is it even possible in a world so prone to disaster? ]
I can't say it's quite the same back home. Feels like every other week there's some kinda crisis we need to intervene in to prevent worse things from happenin'. [ He almost envies the position Ginger's Heaven seems to be in. ]
So it's like...even fictional worlds made by mortals exist in their own right? And that's what you guys manage?