indiego_inks
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He doesn't remember when it started.
But if he could go back—he would save Regto. He wouldn't have gone down that alley. He wouldn't have taken that pill.
It's too late now.
Now he's shaking on the cold floor, teeth chattering, body burning, and the faces of those he betrayed swim before his eyes. The voices in his head get louder with every passing minute. His hands ache so badly he wants to scream.
But no one can know.
There's one pill left in the pouch. And Rudo would die for it.
The problem is, in this world, there are people who suddenly seem to want to save him. People who notice too much. People who don't leave, even when he snarls and snaps.
Especially one golden-eyed idiot who sticks his nose where it doesn't belong, sings stupid songs, and for some reason promises not to go anywhere.
Rudo doesn't know what's worse: the withdrawal, or the way Enjin looks at him
Bookmarked by indiego_inks
03 Jul 2026
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Enjin had been with the cleaners for years, and had grown to be one of, if not the best, in their ranks. He grew his own team, collecting strays, and growing friendships with nearly everyone around him.
Yet they all noticed one thing. One worrying, terrifying thing.
If only someone would finally step up.
(5 times the cleaners noticed Enjin's passively suicidal tendencies, and 1 time some said and did something about it.)
Note: Check start notes for plans + amt of words per chapter!! :)
Bookmarked by indiego_inks
05 Jul 2026
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‘Alright, let’s just take some deep breaths, okay? In and out, slowly.’
‘Get lost – NO!’ Rudo roared again, eyes flashing in a terrorised, overwrought outrage. Then he ripped the table lamp from his bedside locker and angled it threateningly above his head.
His voice hobbled over as he spoke, caught in a thick hook of swamped tears and mucus. ‘You’re NOT –’ he sniffed, hard; it sounded burnt-out and hurt. ‘–You’re not doing the breathing thing! That’s Regto’s thing!’
Enjin bowed his face and inhaled sharply.
Then he took a good, long look at him. ‘So that’s what this is about.’
Or,
Five times Enjin went to help Rudo - and the one time Rudo went to him.
Bookmarked by indiego_inks
03 Jul 2026
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‘You do know what happened to him, though, don’t you?’ Enjin said, tightening his jaw. ‘You just don’t wanna say it.’
Eishia blew a strand of hair from her face. She fixed down her dress, visibly unnerved from the accusation. Then, she inhaled a short breath and turned to face him properly.
‘I do know,’ she murmured. Her eyes, usually so bright in their pink, seemed haunted, derelict, and bewildered all at once. ‘He got hurt, Enjin. Really, really bad.’
Enjin narrowed his eyes. ‘How bad, Eishia?’
She nibbled her lower lip, desperate for an escape from the conversation, but Enjin was through with the damn enigma of it all. Even so, he knew he was being too forward.
Perhaps in place for someone else that wasn’t there to do it.
Eishia dropped her head. ‘Down there, bad.’
And there it was.
Rudo was, in fact, an anomaly. He was capable, defiant, brave, empathetic, often blinded by his own rage - but most of all, a child.
And there would always come a time when the Ground, and the things in it, got too big - even for him.
This, was one of those times.
Bookmarked by indiego_inks
03 Jul 2026
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In the Puppet Festival Arc (manga)
Amidst the clamor of the puppet festival, Zanka succumbed to the joyful current and found himself, at least internally, immersed in the festival's dazzling atmosphere. The ambiance around them was exuberant and glamorous to his liking; after all, everyone there deserved a break, especially him.
So why did he now feel numbness in his body, an unwelcome warmth, a pain he didn't want to imagine, drifting into darkness as Goka spoke to him with disgust and gloom before lifting him into his enormous arms—arms he never imagined could hold him as a child, let alone now? As Goka ran with him through the dirt roads amidst the panicking crowd, he was largely unconscious, drifting slowly as the scent of oud his brother carried enveloped him. But he was conscious enough to realize that the oud had been replaced by a pungent chemical odor, a high-pitched, ringing laugh, and utter darkness.
┈┈┈┈┈┈✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Or: Zanka is being kidnapped, but kidnapping isn't the most appropriate word given the overall context.
Bookmarked by indiego_inks
02 Jul 2026