Aug 14, 2025
He was ashamed, that night, when the door to Drosselmeyer’s house opened, and he began to sob. Ashamed when they wrapped arms around his back and allowed him to rest his head upon their shoulder, tall frame bent low. They were kind to him in that moment. Kind enough to coo at him, encourage him, drink to “make up for the lost fluids”, and guide him to bed. Kind enough to lay with him, stroke his hair, and guide him to sleep against them, soft voice humming one of their favorite pieces from a long-dead composer into his ear.
Twirls Hair So there's this podcast called @hinaypod and I may have a pair of favorite characters from it.
