the gifts of the magician. my piece for @storyindungeon.bsky.social

He nodded. “I don’t care about getting heat stroke.”

He continued humming as he was carried along.

Thistle hummed a quiet lullaby. he was not sure why. perhaps it was an attempt at comfort.

1 or 2. he does not care enough anymore.

Thistle quietly climbed on, tucking his chin on Mike’s shoulder.

“Um…” he thought, “…I don’t know. You can if you want.”

His ears pricked up a little bit, and he considered this before nodding. “Okay… Should we bring flowers? For the grave.”

“Okay.“ he nodded quietly.

// diary entries! look!

[ 800 followers special part 1 ] [ Might turn this into a thread cuz I will be adding other entries regarding other people from his past. ]

He frowned, ”But I’m not an animal…” Perhaps he would be a loyal dog, or irritated cat.

🐞A reminder I don't follow anyone back who openly uses AI content for muses or RP posts... Fuck off with that shit.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

”…A decade isn’t very long anyway.” his ears twitched, “…Maybe he would be. It depends what he wanted you to do.”

His ears drooped slightly. “…You‘re upset.” he looked at the compartment, but didn’t make any move to open it, “…I miss my old friend,too.”

“hm... okay.”

girls love the severed head!

“What were you writing.” he pointed at the drawer compartment, avoiding the question.

“Oh.” he blinked, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind his ear, “M’kay. Does that mean you’re gonna make me get changed?”

“…Huh? Fifteen sets of what?” he blinked, brain foggy today

“Hmm…I have other clothes already. They are just not here. They are in … Hm. Maybe they got buried under the rubble, actually…But I did have some clothes in my old room in the castle. I think...”

He has no interest in lying.

How good of a liar is your muse?

He shrugged. “I do that all the time.” … Thistle proceeded to space out for several long moments, or perhaps minutes; he wasn’t sure. “…What were you saying?”

“…It’s okay. It didn’t matter anyway.” he picked at a scab on his finger.

“No, I don’t.”

“I’m toxic, apparently.”

www.tumblr.com/sadboytourna... vote thistle he is saddest boy //

‎ riot . hi guys. . . i am a broke college student and i lowkey need to pay tuition like asap cuz its overdue LOL slides my commission info so cutely... ‎

Thistle didn’t resist, allowing Mike to pull his hand away. His gaze followed, staring at where Mike held his hand. He tensed at the mention of talking about what it did, which was strange because he had already told other people, but he felt a twist in his gut anyway. “…I guess… +

He scowled, chewing on his finger until it bled. “…It was about Delgal, and the Winged Lion.”

“What was your nightmare about?” he immediately deflected.

“What is neurodivergence.”

“Oh!” he blinked in surprise at suddenly being picked up, “…Um. I keep thinking something bad is going to happen. I had a bad nightmare, too. Worse than the usual ones. I screamed.”

“I don’t do effort anymore.” he shrugged, “You can put a jingle hat on me if you want.”

“I have a hat that jinglejangles a lot more but I cannot be bothered to wear it…”

// i’m reading about continence care and learnt that simetimes they do this thing called double diaperin/briefing which is bad because it gives the patient sores and also it is often done so they can leave the patient unchanged for long periods of time, causing infection and pain

“Hmm…I think so.” he seemed slightly uncertain.

“I jingle.” said Thistle, who was wearing one of his jester outfits today instead of his nightgown for once. He had metal coins at the ends of his skirt that clinked together.

He scrunched his face slightly then smiled a bit!

He shook his head, “I haven’t.”

“Hm. I suppose so. What kind of cake? It better not be an elf cake. Those don’t even taste good. They just taste nutty and boring.”

“Hm...I don’t think I have ever had friends my own age.”

“What for?”

“Why do you have milk?”

“It is quite hard to force me to do anything, anyway.” he replied, but considered her point of wanting him to at least eat a little. ”Okay.” he nodded as she left, chewing on his finger.

He doesn’t care about fashion anymore. He just wears his nightgown everywhere. It’s quite stained and getting worn, so he probably needs a new one but doesn’t really care about that.

“Tastes never acquire for me. I don’t particularly like or dislike anything.” he paused, “…Except Mike’s cookies. I like those. They are okay. and sweet.”