#as he was healing she said that he shouldn't have to fight anymore

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena watches her gladiators while they train. And she certainly enjoys watching her champion while he trains 👀

Ajak smiled to one of their many advisors before they bounded off. She turned to Thena beside her, "do you remember a single word they said?"

"Do you?"

"Thena," Ajak frowned, although her daughter was not nearly as chastised by her tone as she might have liked. Thena turned her head faintly, looking out into the courtyard as they walked. "You cannot avoid them forever."

"Forgive me, Mother," Thena smiled tightly. Usually, she did her best to avoid royal duties all together. But she had made her mother the promise that, if she were allowed to stay by Gilgamesh's side while he recovered, that she would never deny her mother again.

A promise she still did not regret making, no matter how many meetings and banquets and diplomatic invitations she had to endure. Gilgamesh was alive and well, and she had kept her promise to her mother since.

"Speak of the devil."

Gilgamesh, former Champion and now Captain of the Guard, was training the new recruits. Newer, younger gladiators who would need to know how to handle themselves in the ring in the name of Queen and Country.

"He is a fine teacher."

Ajak eyed Thena beside her, not that her daughter was paying attention to anything but the man directing their new gladiators. She cleared her throat, "there are questions, my dear--about your marriage?"

"What about it?" Thena mumbled, head practically craned so she could watch Gilgamesh as he gave a lesson on wrestling, seeming about momentum and using an opponent's size against them.

Ajak huffed; Thena had developed somewhat of an impertinence about her since the Eros debacle. Ajak halted her steps, since Thena had come to such a natural halt herself. She tugged at Thena's dress, "about it happening, dearest. You are expected to choose someone now that you have all the power in the world to do so."

Thena continued to ignore her.

Ajak had been trying to get her daughter to consider marriage for years already. She was more than of-age, but the Queen also had vowed to never force Thena into something she truly did not want. And marriage seemed to be at the very top of that list. They were lucky she took the throne and had Thena when she was as young as she was. She had half expected to hand over the throne by now.

Thena tilted her head, admiring the Captain as he...worked.

Ajak sighed, shaking her head faintly. It was so plain to see, and yet Thena had not even mentioned a fondness for the Champion who fought for the freedom of her hand rather than the possession of it. Even Ajak could recognise the romance of such an action.

"You could choose him, if you wish."

Thena finally looked at her, torn from her revelry of watching a bunch of men - one man, rather - horse around. "Hm?"

Driven to distraction; Ajak nodded her head towards Gilgamesh, "I am sure he would find it most agreeable."

"H-" Thena blinked, her head moving between her mother and their chosen and promoted Captain of the gladiatorial forces. It happened a few more times, just for good measure, "G-Gilgamesh?"

Ajak laughed faintly, patting Thena's arm; she wasn't sure when her daughter had become so much taller than she. "Have you not even considered it, dear?"

Thena looked back at the Champion himself, who had his head thrown back in laughter with his troops. Her hands wrung in front of her, "I...I suppose not."

Horseshit. But Ajak held her tongue and tried a more gentle approach with her remarkably stubborn child-turned-grown-woman. "I would approve greatly. Not that I think that matters to you at all."

"Mother," Thena furrowed her brows at her as she patted her hands into submission. "Of course that would matter to me."

"Well," Ajak turned her eyes back to the Captain, who caught her eye this time. She offered a smile.

"Hup!"

Gilgamesh stood upright and dipped to bow to their queen and princess, the rest of his troops following suit.

Ajak moved into the sun of the courtyard, still holding Thena's hands and incidentally dragging her along. "Your training seems to be going well, Captain."

"Yes ma'am," Gil responded with a happy smile, despite speaking with the revered Queen Ajak herself. He looked at the recruits behind him, crossing his arms, "they have a ways to go, but I believe they will fight well for you."

"And you?" Thena asked eagerly, nearly cutting off the end of his words with her own, "are you healing well?"

Ajak nearly rolled her eyes; she had healed him herself, and it was weeks since he was able to leave a bed.

"I am," he smiled at her gently, though, his voice going as soft as a lily petal. "Thanks to you and your mother, my Lady."

Thena smiled.

Ajak took in a breath. This required more direct action, and for once, it seemed Thena was not in any mood for directness. She drew her shoulders up faintly and turned to her daughter, "Thena, I have another diplomatic meeting."

"Oh, yes," she agreed, per her promise. But her disappointment rang out from her like a gong. "We shall-"

"You can skip this one, dear," Ajak uttered quickly. This would need to happen fast. "It shall be brief, and nothing but politics. Perhaps the Captain would escort you inside for me?"

Gil startled but straightened his shoulders, "o-of course, my Lady!"

"Very well, then!" Ajak smiled at them before all but dropping Thena's hands from her arm and dashing away. She spared them a wave as she picked up the billowing white of her skirts to move as swiftly as possible. "You have my full faith, Captain."

Thena frowned at the odd statement from her mother, following her even more odd behaviour. "It is a walk; I would not think it required any strength of faith."

Gilgamesh shrugged, though, holding out his arm, bent at the elbow. "Still, it is escorting the royal princess. I'm honoured."

Thena smiled, indulging him as she settled her fingers delicately in the crook of his elbow. "Very well, then, Captain."

"Uh," a young voice cracked, "sir?"

Gil eyed his young bucks over his shoulder, "you can conduct yourself in my absence, right? I have important business with the Princess."

"Yes, sir!"

"Important business?" Thena murmured to him as they took their leave back into the shade.

He bent his head closer to her too, like children snickering about their teacher, "breaks are very important, my Lady."

The two laughed between themselves as he guided her back inside and out of the harsh daylight. Thena cleared her throat, moving her hand further from his bicep and more to his forearm. "How are you finding your new position, Gilgamesh?"

"The promotion was kind, my Lady," he smiled at her as they strolled at a leisurely pace through the open and breeze halls of the palace. "I've never been so rested."

"But do you like it?" Thena clarified, her eyes imploring the truth out of him. "Training the recruits?"

He chuckled, smiling at her more gently (if at all possible). "I love it, Thena. And I know it's because I needed time to heal after my fight."

It was a consideration most were not afforded, given the nature of their profession.

Thena sighed, eyeing his chest place in memory of the scars still there, "you should not have to fight after what you endured."

Gilgamesh shrugged, though, back to smiling blithely. "Part of the job, my Lady."

"Gil."

"Thena," he replied, laughing again. He patted the hand of hers on his arm with his other hand. "It was generous of your mother to promote me. I don't take it for granted."

"Yes," Thena agreed, warmth stealing into her cheeks. It was she who had suggested the promotion to get Gil out of the barracks and into a more comfortable position, both in work and life outside of it. "Mother is generous in spirit."

"You've had a lot of meetings since the tournament, huh?" Gil asked, more and more casual and comfortable the longer they walked together.

"Unfortunately," Thena sighed, also losing the polished edges she wore as Princess. She looked at Gil - just Gil - with a smile that was just Thena. "And they are all terribly boring."

Gil let out a laugh that echoed through the palace halls. Thena stared at it openly.

"Our advisors are demanding I select a spouse," she confided in him as they left the more open halls along the palace walls to the interior. "You would think Mother was abdicating tomorrow, based on their urgency."

"I'm sorry, Thena."

She looked at him in shock.

"I didn't mean to put that kind of pressure on you," Gil frowned in the softer light of the room. "It didn't occur to me that being free to choose would-"

"No."

He looked at her in shock this time.

"Don't ever apologise for that," she shook her head at him. "You...you have given me something no money in the world nor the crown itself could give me."

"Without you, I would be under the same expectation to marry, except that they would be chosen for me. If not selected by our advisors, then any challenging prince looking for a prize."

Gil frowned at the mention of Eros, even now that that particular thorn was removed from their sides. He gave her hand a squeeze, "I would never have let that happen, Thena."

She smiled faintly, her head tilting and her hair tumbling off her shoulder, "I know you wouldn't have. It is for that exact reason I will never have enough gratitude to gift you."

"Well, I don't know about that," Gil smiled at her, his lighter mood restored, "the fancy new bed I have in my palace room is pretty nice."

Thena did not manage to catch her laughter before it escaped, "Gil."

"Really, I mean it's nice, and the sheets!" Gil continued until Thena gave his arm a light shove with the back of her hand. It seemed to possess no force at all, and yet he looked at her as if it would rouse him from sleep. "Really, Thena, you've done more than enough. I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Thena just sighed as he brought her hand off his arm and up to his lips in a kiss. It was more gentle and reverent than any from a suitor could hope to achieve.

Ajak watched from behind one of many pillars offering her cover as she spied on the Gladiator who so possessed her daughter's heart.

"My Lady, we really should-"

Ajak shooed away the guard about to blow her cover. She really did have a meeting she had to go to. But this was far more important.

[kings-highway]

Haikyuu Flash Fiction: "Long Distance Injury" (Iwaoi Hurt/Comfort)

---

Oikawa hadn't realized how much he had leaned on Iwaizumi's aggressive care for him. How easy and playful it had been, to wave it off, insist he was fine, knowing full well that Iwa would see through him and force him to the bench. That he'd prepare ice for him, demand he stay off it, yell at him and scold him for being reckless. He hadn't realized how much he had loved getting tended to. The pain in his ankle or his knee or his shoulder was secondary when he'd had Iwa there to play doctor, to rub his back and tell him how badly it must hurt, and how stupid he was.

So the first time he gets injured in Argentina, mid-practice with the team, he doesn't even know what to do. Coach blows his whistle and yells at him to go get it checked out - they have people for that, of course - but nobody comes running under the net. They ask if he's alright, but nobody looks feverish with concern.

He tells them it barely hurts, it's fine. He waves it off like he always does, because that's who he is, and they believe him. So they go back to practicing.

Oikawa is given a look over, the nurse says it's mostly likely just a light sprain, that he'll be okay in a few days if he takes it easy. He tells her he'll be a-ok, it doesnt even hurt that bad. She gives him ice, and then leaves him alone. He doesn't put the ice on it. He never has before, why would he now? But it's a confused emotion - it's not that he doesn't want to put the ice on, it's that he is supposed to pretend like he's better than the injury, like it doesn't really hurt at all, and Iwa is supposed to put the ice on, and call him an idiot for even considering going back to practice.

But nobody would stop him if he just said it didn't hurt and went back to practice.

It feels odd.

He gets home that day, the ice long melted, and knows he should get more. He sits on his bed and feels the dull, throbbing pain - he'd had to walk home. When someone asked to help him, or give him a ride, he's said he was fine and it didn't hurt. They'd believed him.

It hurts a lot. It hurts a lot more than he thought it would.

It occurs to him that across the ocean in Japan, Iwa would be awake by now. But Oikawa isn't stupid.

If he wants Iwa to call and tell him to ice the injury, he's going to have to tell him first.

There is no way for him to both try and hide the injury and play it off like he always did and have Iwaizuimi play caregiver anymore. Because hiding it would be easy.

He never has to listen to those rants again. Iwa can't force him to lay in bed, muttering and cursing him out as he cared for him. If Oikawa wants that attention again, he's going to have to ask for it.

He picks up the phone.

But that's not who he is. It hurts so badly, but he's Oikawa Tooru, he doesn't complain about his injuries, he fights through them. He fights until someone forces him to stop, so he should be overjoyed by the perfect opportunity to avoid drawing attention to it. Is that what he wanted?

He presses call on the phone. It only rings once.

"Hey, thanks for waking me up, asshole, what do you need?" Iwa says. Oikawa knows he was already awake.

He also knows how to care for this injury. He's an adult, he's had them before. He can visualize the entire healing process perfectly. He doesn't need help.

He shouldn't bother Iwa with this, there's no need.

But that's not what it's really about, is it?

"I... sprained my ankle," he says. "At practice today."

Iwa is quiet for a moment, before he says: "What, like, badly?"

"No. Not badly. It doesn't even hurt."

This makes Iwa laugh. Finally, finally, someone doesn't believe him.

"Oh, whatever," Iwa scoffs. "Just make sure you ice it, okay? And keep off of it, I don't want to be getting a call from you all teary and upset because your coach won't let you play when it doesn't heal quick. So lay down!"

Oikawa smiles slightly, a reflex to cover the fact that there are tears in his eyes now. No, not from sadness, that's not what this is about.

"It's not that big of a deal," he says, as his ankle burns hot in pain.

He can hear Iwaizumi's huff, a desperate, angry sound. "Please, you idiot, please just go ice it," he says, and Oikawa is a little shocked by how miserable he sounds. "You're... too far away, I can't knock any sense into you, so please, please just take care of yourself. Ice it. Right now."

Oikawa lifts a hand to wipe the tear that has run down his cheek, nodding before realizing Iwaizumi would not be able to see him.

"Yes sir," he says. "But for the record, I'm fine."

"I know," Iwa replies. "Do it anyway."

[marymary-diva17]

The daughter of two worlds

another crossposted story of mines with some edits made to it, I hope you all will enjoy this story.

Over the time of being together neteyam and Ao’nung had fallen in love with each other. They had kept their relationship under wraps, as they wish to see if they love they have for each other is true. Soon enough the relationship couldn’t stay the same anymore, as everyone soon found out. The relationship had been welcome with open arms and support until, it all came crashing down.

Ronal "this baby has demon blood in her eywa has turned her back on us" A child had been born from the union of aonung and neteyam, the day of the brith of child had started off as celebration for all of the clans until the celebration had done. When the child had been seen and when they saw her it was clear she was a child of two worlds or multiple. She didn't look like all the other navi she had inherited both features from her fathers and also human DNA.

Tonowari " what are we going to do about this the clans will talk, when they see her" neteyam held his newborn daughter close to his chest looking happily, down on her as to him she was perfect.

Ao'nung " ......" 

Jake " we should all clam down she our granddaughter an innocent child she means us now harm" Jake had spoken up hoping to come down the worry and dear that was being rising right now.

Ronal " she a demonblood like the other she a curse upon on family and the clan"

Neytiri " you will not speak to my granddaughter like that she is of the Omaticaya and Metkayina now" neytiri had gotten mad and soon went towards ronal, she was ready for a fight.

Ronal " she will never be one of us we are leaving now"

tonowari " yes it will be best if you family leaves the clan and many others, will not accept this child ... we have to do what best for our family and clan ... we can't have anymore of the sky demons roaming in our clan" Ronal and Tonowari had said enough as they started walking out of the sully family home, not daring to look back at the granddaughter they pushed away.

Neteyam " ma nung" 

lo'ak " dude you can come with us and so can tisreya and rotox, we can help you adapt to the forest"

neteyam " ma yawne our daughter will need us both she a child of sea and forest .... look at our beautiful daughter she so perfect" neteyam had shown aonung their new daughter with happiness and hope on his face, as he is praying that aonung will hold their child and love her like any father will.

Ao'nung " i'm sorry but I have to leave Neteyam this relationship was doomed from the start we shouldn't of kept it going" 

Neteyam " Ao'nung please she your daughter ... she our daughter we love her right" 

Ao'nung " she nothing to me ... I have to think about the clan reparation here and with the others, having a kid with demon blood will make us seem like we side with the sky demons" 

Lo'ak " I wont allow you to speak about my niece like that when I'm here Ao'nung you broke your promise to me" lo'ak had grabbed onto aonung necklace and que she was beyond mad, right now towards her once former friend and brother in law.

Ao'nung " i'm sorry but as everyone else will know I don't have a daughter or mate ... tsireya and rotxo will not be leaving here I'm sure of that ... now leave when you are healed " Ao'nung soon got up and walked away not looking back at his daughter or his former mate. Neteyam had fallen into tears and panic. 

Kiri " hush brother we are here for you we will always be here for you" 

Jake " you will be coming home with us once you and our newest members are heal and well" 

Neteyam " yes dad" 

Tuk " what are we going to name her or is that to soon" 

Neteyam” her name will be y/n" 

Jake " well welcome to the family y/n sully" the sully family had left a few days later not only did Neteyam relationships end badly so did lo'ak and kiri relationship as well with tsyeria and rotxo. It seems like the relationship between ocean clans and the other clans had become broken as well. 

many days later

Jake " y/n" Jake had held his granddaughter in the air as the sun light shined on her in front of the clan and all the other clans as well.

everyone " y/n" everyone had chanted the name as well as the baby girl laugh and reached for the sun, and anything else in her area. She had brought smile to her family and clan.

Jake " now she is our special girl"

neteyam " yes she is"

neytiri " are you sure you don't wish to live at home with us we can make it bigger, you and y/n can have your own room"

neteyam " mother we will be okay and we will not be that far from home, you all can stop by to see y/n and help me with her"

tuk " we will love that"

mo'at " my grandson the great mother has blessed you with a wonderful daughter, and our family as well the child of two worlds or many"

Neteyam " yes she is special"

lo'ak " to bad no one else in from the village could see that"

kiri " lo'ak"

spider " dude not the time or place"

lo'ak " I'm sorry neteyam but it makes me mad for how the treated her"

neteyam " it okay I understand"

Tsu’tey " she perfect and will be perfect addition to the clan"

norm " yes she will Neteyam I and the scientist have gather up from stuff for baby y/n, as she will need it like everyone else"

neteyam " thank you" neteyam had smiled at her daughter and kissed her forehead, even due the past days had been sorrowful not it had become happy.

That night

neteyam " you my daughter are special to me no matter what others had to say, I will teach you all that is need to know ad you might teach me as well" neteyam had seen his daughter laugh and smile towards him, as wood spirt had come by them and landed on her norse.

neteyam " it seems like the great mother has already accepted you from day one my beautiful daughter my beautiful y/n" neteyam had made a promise to be the best father he could be to his daughter, but also be there for his family and clan. They will be there for him as well, but he knew he will not let anyone do anything to destroy this happiness he has right now.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello i just discovered your blog and i love it but may i request an MC who was a child of a brutally war and had like 3-5 younger siblings who died in the war and one day when they are walking around a pure-blood said something along the lines of "OH their Siblings deserved to die" and MC just losses it and straights up punch the pure-blood in the face and knocking them out, how would the HCL +Professor's react to mc in that situation? (Btw I'm sorry if this is a too sensitive topic u don't have to write it if u don't want to, XOXO have a good day or night)

A/N: not to worry, that's what the warnings are for.

HLC REACT TO MC PUNCHING A BULLY

WARNING: MC has PTSD, terrorism, blood racism, hurt/comfort

It was less of a war and more of a massacre. The slaying of muggleborns in the 1885 attack was terroristic and unjust. MC was the only survivor of their family. Their siblings were gone. All that was left was the screaming in MC's head. The screaming that kept them up at night. The screaming that told them to run....to hide...

The pure blood student laid on the floor, holding his nose. Blood poured out as the student whined. MC stood over them, fists clenched. MC's knuckles were already bruising from the force of the hit. Their breathing was fast and irregular. Their eyes were wide and blank, they seemed a thousand miles away.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He'd never seen MC move so fast. Before he could tell the instigator off himself, MC threw themselves at them and punched with enough force to break bricks. He doesn't realize the state MC's in at first, laughing and jeering at the bleeding bully.

Until he notices MC isn't laughing with him. They're strangely quiet. Shaking. He hears a Professor coming and he steers MC away from the scene. "MC? What's going on with you? ..MC?" He gets a closer look at their face and sees silent tears flowing from their wide eyes. He's seen this face before, on Anne after they found their parents dead.

He takes MC's good hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "MC. Come back to me. Come back to now. The pain is in the past, don't let it halt your future." He gently talks MC down from their episode and stays with them until they insist they're fine. Even then, he's hard to get rid of.

OMINIS GAUNT: He swears he heard bons breaking when MC's fist collided with the bully. He knew a staff member wouldn't be far away from the commotion and he immediately dragged MC away. "You shouldn't have resorted to physical violence. What that bastard said wasn't acceptable, but now you could be facing detention or worse! That sort of behavior is brutish! Just jinx them like anyone else, at the very least. ..MC?"

He'd just realized MC wasn't talking, not even trying to defend their actions. "MC..? I need you to talk to me. What's going on?" Silence. MC was as still as a statue. Their hand was clammy in his. "What they said....there's more to it, isn't there?" He didn't know the full story, but MC's silence was too loud to ignore.

He takes them to the undercroft to recover in peace and talk to them privately about what really happened.

ANNE SALLOW: She had her wand out but MC's fist was faster. "That's exactly what you deserve!" She huffs and grabs MC's good hand. "Let's go, before staff show up." She walks with them a while before asking about their hand. "Are you alright? You hit them pretty hard." She examines MC's hand. It was heavily bruised and possibly broken, but nothing a healing potion wouldn't fix.

She looks into MC's eyes and they seem to look through her. "MC? MC, it's alright. You're alright. You don't have to fight anymore. The danger has passed." She speaks soothingly until they seem themselves again. She hugs them if they let her. She has the strongest urge to comfort and cuddle.

IMELDA REYES: She sees red. How. Fucking. DARE they! MC swings once but she keeps the pain train rolling. She kicks them in the ribs. She curb stomps their stomach. She pushes them down the nearest flight of stairs and spits in their direction as they roll away.

It takes more than a minute for her to calm down and realize MC hadn't moved or said anything. "Hey...you good?" She's still breathing heavily from the adrenaline. "Let's get out of here." She gets them out to the flying lawn and pulls out her broom. "You going to use yours?" MC complied and pulled out theirs but still hasn't said anything or changed their blank expression.

"Follow me." She leads them to a high cliff away from the castle and the noise. "This is where I come to think...or scream. You look like you could do both right about now."

NATSAI ONAI: She uses depulso without her wand and the bully slides across the floor far away from them. She looks at MC with great concern. "You don't look so good. I have never seen you attack someone like that, even over pure blood nonsense. What was it they said that got to you?"

MC's tears come and it breaks her heart. MC was hurting in a bad way, she could see it in their eyes. "You were there, weren't you? This attack they mentioned." MC breaks into sobs and their knees give out. She catches them before they hit the floor and holds them close. "I am here. I am here, MC. I will not let anyone hurt you. Never again."

GARRETH WEASLEY: His eye twitches and he has to hold back the urge to bring out his wand. He couldn't curse the bully without risk, but he could do something. He drops a small green bottle on the bully's lap. "Here. It'll clear up the nose bleed. Come on, MC." He, somewhat forcefully, pushes MC away and leads them around the corner.

He smiles to himself when screams echoed down the corridor. The boils the potion gave the bully would last for weeks and be horrifically painful. "Got exactly what was coming. What does that git think he's trying to prove? Many purebloods are accepting of muggleborns. The terrorist attack all those years ago was a small extremist group and they're ALL in Azkaban or dead."

He talks and talks and talks, going off on tangents and eventually forgetting what he started talking about. It's not that he never noticed MC having a hard time, he just thought if he could distract them from it instead of drawing attention to it, he would be of more help.

AMIT THAKKAR: He's so shocked by what the bully said that he doesn't even process MC punching the daylights out of them. He just watches the bully writhe in pain on the ground. He's as still and silent as MC. Both processing what just happened.

LEANDER PREWETT: "Levioso! Descendo!" His magic throws the bully helplessly into the air and then slams them back down. They'd be lucky if they didn't have multiple broken bones. He pockets his wand and takes MC's hand. "Come on."

He takes them outside for some air. MC's outburst then sudden silence was unnerving him. "What happened in there?" He asked calmly. "He mentioned siblings of yours? Was he taking the mick or...?" His unfinished sentence hing in the air between them.

MC finally focused on him, years starting to stream down their cheeks. He could see it in their eyes, real pain. The kind of pain that makes you shut down. He doesn't know what to do so he holds their good hand and looks back into their eyes. "You're going to be alright."

"Maybe we should go..." He eventually says and he starts to walk away. MC follows and they walk in silence all the way up the astronomy tower. In the clear and cool air, they take a simultaneous deep breath. "People are rotting no matter where you go. Be it skin or blood or belief. The human superiority complex never ceases to disgust. At the very least, know that you have a friend in me, MC. I'm with you."

EVERETT CLOPTON: He throws a fogging dung bomb and he and MC escape the commotion. "Good on ya for putting that twat in his place! If you ask me, you should have just cursed them, but a punch will do." He laughs as he takes MC to a more secluded corridor.

He doesn't realize MC isn't okay until he tries to give them another one of his special dung bombs "for emergencies". Their blank expression first leads him to think they don't like the dung bombs, but when he takes a closer look at their eyes... "Oh...oh Merlin, MC, I'm sorry. I thought they were lying. Your siblings...that's why you...oh..." He awkwardly puts away the bombs and holds out his arms. "Come here, let me make it better."

POPPY SWEETING: "You really showed them. How dare they say such a thing! How horrible of a person do you have to be to believe muggleborns deserve death? Honestly! I can't even imagine what their parents are like." She spits in the bully's general direction and stands with MC as the bully slowly gets up and runs off.

"They're probably going to tell a teacher. Don't worry, I'll be your alibi. They tripped." She smirks and nudges MC with her elbow. She frowns when they don't react. "MC? Hello? Hey!" She waves her hand in front of MC and she gets more worried when MC still doesn't react.

She calms down and takes the time to examine MC's body language. Treating them like a stunned beast, she speaks softly and reassures MC that everything is okay.

[cherrycola27]

Till Death?

Summary: You and Bradley promised to love each other till death... you just didn't think it would come so soon.

Pairing: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x Reader

Warnings: Mature Themes. 18+ Minors DNI

Previous Part

Epilouge

...........................................

Part 5

Silence fell across the room. Your eyes were wide as you looked at Jake.

You looked over at Rooster, who had a death grip on the arm of the chair he was in. "What the hell did you just say?" Rooster asked through gritted teeth.

"I said since I'm not going on the deployment, she could marry me. Then, when you get back, if she wanted to, we could get it annulled, and then you guys could get remarried. If she wanted to." Jake spoke.

"You must be out of your God damn MIND if you think I would ever allow that." Rooster growled.

"Allow it? Last time I checked, you don't get to make decisions for her." Jake scoffed.

That did it. Rooster jumped up from his seat and lunged towards Jake. "STOP IT!" You screamed at them. Both of their head snapped at the sound of your voice. The ID specialist looked panicked. Nick was blissfully unaware as he sat in the corner and played with his toy plane.

You stepped between them. "Jake, I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to commit fraud. You could be arrested and get a dishonorable discharge of we did that." You tell him. "I can't even believe you would suggest such a thing. I mean, that's crazy." You shake your head.

"Honey, I—" Jake tries to explain. "Don't." You cut him off.

"And as for you, Bradley—" you turn to face him. "You don't allow me to do things. I can make my own choices." You state.

"I know, Honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" He hung his head.

"We've known each other for years, Bradley. And when we were married, before everything happened, I loved you. I really did. I still love you, but you aren't the person I married anymore. You're different. And I know it's not your fault. Neither of us could have predicted our lives would turn out this way." You tell him.

"I'm sorry things are the way they are. I'm sorry that we are in this impossible situation. But I think this deployment will be good for us. Give us both time to think if this is still what we really want. All of us, we need to heal." You say, looking between Bradley and Jake.

"You're right." Rooster breaths out. Jake nods in agreement.

"Well, um, it looks like Admiral Simpson pulled some strings to where you won't lose your benefits." The ID specialist states clearing her throat.

"Thank you." You tell her before scooping up Nick and exiting. Rooster and Jake follow behind you.

"Is there somewhere we can go where the three of us can talk?" You ask them.

Jake nods his head and leads everyone to an empty conference room.

"Bradley, Jake, sit down. I have some things I need to say." You tell them.

They both sit. Nick had fallen asleep in your arms. You carefully placed him in a plush chair in the corner of the room before addressing the men in front of you.

"I love both of you. But over the past year, I haven't really liked either of you." You tell them.

"Bradley, we have been through so much together... but we've both changed in ways that would couldn't have predicted. I've tried so hard to be a good wife, but I feel like part of you still resents me for what happened when you were missing." You tell him. You can feel the tears coming.

"Jake. You put me back together when I was broken, but you also shattered me when I needed you the most." Your voice cracks.

"I've tried so hard this year to please everyone, to keep the peace. But I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of you two always fighting. I'm tired of feeling like I can't do anything right. I'm tired of feeling like a horrible person for loving two people." You don't hold back the tears as they fall from your face.

"I—I just want to be happy again. If I could turn back time, I'd make sure we never got on that boat. But I can't do that. We can't change the past. We can only move forward, and I don't think the two of you realize that. It's nobody's fault for what happened." You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself.

"I don't want to lose either of you. But I'm tired of the two of you expecting me to choose." You tell them.

"Honey, we're sorry. We, or at least I didn't know you, felt like this." Rooster begins. Jake nods his head in agreement.

"What—what do you need from us?" Jake asks.

"I need some space. Bradley, I want you to be safe on this deployment because I want you to come home. But I think the distance will be helpful for both of us." You tell him. He nods his head. You can tell his heart is breaking.

"Jake. I know you want to be there for Nick and I while Rooster is away, but I need a break from you, too." You tell him. He nods. His expression mirrors Rooster's

I just need some time to think. When these eight weeks finish up, I promise I'll be able to make a choice, but whatever I do, the two of you have to accept it, and no more fighting, no more arguing, no more competitions." You tell them.

"Okay." They say at the same time.

"Honey, I promise to respect whatever decision you make. But promise me that you'll do what makes you happy." Roostet tells you.

"Exactly. We've not been the best. You're right. All we want is for you to be happy." Jake tells you.

They both stand up to hug you. You pick up Nick and let Rooster hold him on more time before telling him goodbye. You give him a final hug before leaving.

It's late by the time you get home. The house is dark. You put Nick to bed and pour yourself a glass of wine. You let out the breath that you'd been holding and for the first time in a year, you thought about what would make you happy.

8 weeks later.............................

You hadn't expected to do this. Honestly, you hadn't. But over the past eight weeks, you took Bradley and Jake's words to heart. What made you happy? And you discovered that you made you happy. Spending time with your son made you happy. Traveling made you happy.

When you got the news that Rooster was coming home, you had told him and Jake to meet you at your home and 6pm the day he returned. You checked the clock. 5:55, any minute now, they would get there.

You took a deep breath, and you hoped that they would understand why you did what you did.

Jake was waiting for Rooster on the porch when he returned home. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Rooster unlocked the door.

The house was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. "Honey, I'm home, we're here!" He called. There was no answer.

He and Jake quickly searched the house, but there was no sign of you. Your car was gone, and several of your things were, too.

"Hey Hangman!" Rooster called from the kitchen. Jake ran to meet him. "What?" He asked, looking at Rooster.

Bradley held up an envelope that had his and Jake's names written on it in your neat script.

Carefully, he opened it before reading it outloud.

To my Dearests, Bradley, and Jacob. First off, let me say I'm sorry. When I last spoke to the two of you, I never planned to do this. But over the past two months, I found out what made me happy. It was me. I figured out how to love myself again. I love both of you. I do. But I can't be with either of you right now. The wounds are still too fresh. I've done some healing, but I need more time.

Please don't worry about me or Nick. We are fine. I'll send a postcard from each place we visit to let you know how we are doing. I'm keeping in touch with Penny, Mav, Bob, Phoenix, and my parents. But they have strick orders not to tell you where we are. Please don't be mad at them. They are respecting my wishes.

I promise, when the time is right, I'll come back. Please don't try to find me. I'm okay. I promise. I know this is hard, but this is what I need right now. I'll write again soon.

All My Love, your Honey

Bradley and Jake stood there in silence. "What should we do?" Jake asked. "We leave her alone. We do what she asked us." Bradley told him.

"So that's it? We just—" Jake didn't know what to say.

"We let her heal. We let ourselves heal. She's a big girl and can take care of herself. When she's ready she'll come back to us." Bradley patting him on the shoulder.

Jake nodded before pulling Rooster in for a hug. They shared a silent understanding that this was for the best. Jake excused himself and went home.

Later that night, as you lay in your hotel room, you looked at your phone. Both of them had sent you almost identical text messages.

They told you they got your letter and understood why you were doing this. Both of them promised to respect your wishes and take care of themselves. They both ended their messages by telling you they loved you.

You didn't respond to either of them. You sighed. You knew this wasn't forever, but it was what was best for now.

Guys, I have received so much love for this story, and I have loved writing it. I had originally planned to go longer with it, but I didn't want to sacrifice quality for quantity. This is not the end. I have an epilouge in the works. So be on the lookout for that. I'm also celebrating 1k followers, which I never imagined I would be. If you're interested, please check out my TOPGUN: Taylor's Version playlist challenge on my master list. Would love it if you wanted to participate in it!

I hope you enjoyed reading this, and I hope when the epilouge comes out, it brings you peace.

Thank you for being amazing.

Love, Nik❤️🍒🧅

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sun @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @peppizzathief @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @wannabeschyulersister @greatszu @shawnsblue @tributetomrsniffles @tv-fanatic18 @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx

[geddy-leesbian]

yayy Ethan and Luis both being paranoid new dads and malewife Ethan fluff

After she's done with her bottle, Luis lays back down with Rosa situated on his chest. She doesn't seem sleepy, so Luis plays with her until Ethan comes back. There's not a lot he can do with her at this point, but even the small things make his heart swell. He makes weird faces at her. She doesn't try to mimic his expressions, but she watches his face intensely. He puts his fingers in front of her face, and her tiny hands grab them.

Ethan finally comes back and gets up on the bed and kisses both on the tops of their heads. Then Luis gets an extra kiss on the cheek.

“I missed you,” Ethan says, even though he hasn't been gone very long and was only downstairs, not even outside of the house. “How are the two most important people in the world doing?”

“I've never been better. I don't have the constant aches and pains anymore, I can lay however I want, and most importantly… Now that my fingers aren't swelling, I can wear my real engagement ring,” Luis puts his hand on the back of Rosa's head, showing off the ring. He wants Ethan to know that he truly does love the heirloom ring, because he does and wouldn't have taken it off for a second if his fingers were smaller, even after their fight where they both said things they shouldn't have, the worst being related to Mia. “And our princess is still perfect, I'm still in awe that a screwup like me managed to make something perfect.”

“You're both perfect. Don't even try and argue with me that you're not right now, you can't change my mind,” For once, Luis doesn't argue. “I got the basement cleaned up, dishes from breakfast and lunch are done, laundry is done. All I'm doing until dinner is laying in bed with you. Before I get comfy, is there anything you want me to bring to you?”

“The baby carrier. I want to go for a walk,” Ethan's response to the request is an extremely skeptical look. “I know, I know, you don't want me lifting a finger yet and think the fact I've been feeding her is too much. But I just want to walk around in the yard for a few minutes. It's actually good for the healing process, getting the blood flowing. Call Rebecca if you don't believe me!”

“You want to go outside? It's winter.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll bundle Rosa up, I'll wear your jacket, it'll be okay. I'm going to go stir crazy if I don't leave the house soon, it's been weeks!” Luis can see Ethan's resolve begin to crumble. “I want some fresh air, and I bet Rosa will like it. I did as a baby. My grandfather told me I would be pretty fussy when I was inside, but taking me outside and rocking me on the porch always calmed me down. The winters there were harsher than here, and it never stopped him from taking me out.”

“Just a couple minutes,” Ethan concedes. “And I'll be the one wearing it, you're taking it easy and walking slowly.”

“Yes!” Luis says, careful not to be loud enough to upset Rosa. Ethan moves the small basket currently functioning as Rosa's wardrobe onto the bed, where Luis can reach. Then Ethan leaves the room to get the carrier. Luis starts focusing on her again and whispers. “Can you do me a favor? Be good to Daddy. Don't cry when he takes you from me. He isn't a stranger. He's loved you since the day I told him I was going to have you, even though I screwed things up so bad that I was sure he'd leave me and not want anything to do with you.”

Luis keeps rambling while he gets her dressed in a toasty warm outfit. He doesn't bother getting himself dressed; they're not going out in public, just the secluded backyard, so Ethan's hoodie and sweatpants is fine.

Ethan comes back empty-handed, no baby carrier. Luis looks at him, a little confused.

“I realized something, I don't want you on the stairs yet.”

“Don't treat me like I'm made of glass! I want to go outside and feel up to it, I don't have any stitches, there is no reason for me to be on bed rest. I am going outside, with or without you!” The sharpness and volume of Luis's voice disturbs Rosa and she starts crying. Luis's voice immediately softens and he holds her closer to his chest. “Don't you cry, everything is okay. I'm a little upset at Daddy right now, but he means well, he just wants to protect me.”

“Hey, honey?” Ethan starts, sitting down on the bed and putting his arm around Luis's back. Ethan's weapon holster presses against Luis's thigh when he sits down, reminding him of how dedicated he is to protecting his fiancé and daughter. He wants to go outside, but he'll yield if Ethan really doesn't want him to. “You cut me off. I said I don't want you on the stairs. I was just going to tell you to put Rose in her bassinet so I could carry you down the stairs, then go back up to get her. I know you are stubborn enough to go outside on your own, but I'm not letting that happen, we'll all go out together.”

“Oh,” Luis's face flushes with embarrassment as he realizes how unnecessary his outburst was. He reluctantly sets her in her bassinet. His paranoia hates the thought of her being out of his sight for even a second, but he knows Ethan's paranoia hates the thought of Luis being up and moving around before he's fully healed. If Ethan is willing to put aside his paranoia to let Luis walk around, Luis is willing to put aside his to let Ethan carry him. “I'm sorry for freaking out on you.”

“It's okay, you had a baby yesterday, you've got some free passes for emotional outbursts. Holding anything you say against you right now wouldn't be fair. I'm impressed this is the worst you've been,” Ethan reassures. “Ready to be carried?”

“I always am. I still love that you can just pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

Luis still lets out a sigh of relief when Ethan comes into the living room with a still crying Rosa, who he passes to Luis before starting to get the carrier on. She stops crying immediately. While Luis does feel bad that Ethan hasn't gotten any magical newborn bonding time, a part of him can't help but love being her favorite person. He'd been so afraid that she'd hate him; Luis was the screwed up mess that didn't seem in any way ready for a baby and refused to even try to accept he was having one for seven months, Ethan was the perfect family man that longed for a baby for years and bought everything a newborn would need the day after Luis finally told him about the pregnancy, when Luis hadn't even thought about the fact that babies need things. It just seemed like a given that the baby would prefer Ethan Winters, effortlessly perfect fiancé and father to the eternal screwup Luis Serra. Her preference for Luis and zero interest in Ethan was truly a curveball he never saw coming. He's sure it'll eventually even out, but he'll bask in the joy of being the favorite while he can.

Luis can't believe he ever doubted his ability to parent. Rosa starts crying when they leave the bedroom, and it takes every ounce of willpower in Luis's body to not start flailing around to escape Ethan's arms to run and comfort his baby. She's okay. If you can hear her, you know she's okay, no one is taking her away. Ethan will go get her in just a couple minutes.

Luis fusses over the carrier with one hand, his other arm cradling Rosa, making sure everything is on properly before placing her into it. He talks and sings as he does, knowing she's not going to appreciate being separated from her favorite person yet again.She doesn't seem as relaxed as she is when Luis is holding her, but she doesn't start crying again, so that's a small victory.

Luis gets a small pang of homesickness when he finally opens the back door. It's so ugly in the yard- there had been a beautiful blanket of snow over everything a few days ago, but now a lot of it has melted. It's just an ugly barren landscape of yellow grass with a few sad piles of snow. Valdelobos was an ugly, horrible place in so many ways. Valdelobos winters were brutal, they meant going to bed hungry and cold most nights, but they were at least beautiful. None of this half assed snow, the whole landscape was always beautifully transformed by the snow and frost.

Ethan still manages to give Luis a little bit of princess treatment, insisting they walk with their arms linked, just in case Luis is overestimating himself and isn't ready to be up and moving around without some support. Luis doesn't mind, he likes leaning on Ethan's shoulder and looking down at Rosa. It makes the homesickness go away, all he can think about is how perfect she is. She doesn't go to sleep, she keeps her head turned sideways, trying to look at her surroundings instead of keeping her face to Ethan's chest.

“You were right.” Ethan says eventually.

“About what?”

“You said she'd like the fresh air too, this is the longest I've been able to have her without her melting down wanting to go back to you.”

“Oh. Yeah,” They walk a few more steps before Luis starts feeling winded. “I hate to cut your bonding short, but I'm beat. Walking across a yard is exhausting when you've barely left your bed for two long months…”

“I'm sure it is,” Ethan turns to start heading back to the house. “You think she'll let me read to her inside? You could hold her.”

“Yeah. We'll try that, and you can do the next feeding, that should help a lot. I fell in love with you for so many reasons, but your insistence on feeding me constantly was definitely the first thing, what got your foot in the door of my heart. She's a good eater, chugs her bottles at a champion pace,” Deep down, Luis finds her eating worrying. The large appetite and the way she's a lot more alert and aware of her surroundings than a one day old should… Growing and maturing at a quicker pace could easily be related to the mold. But Luis can't bring himself to think about it too much right now, he's too happy for it to drag his mood down, instead pretending it's purely a good thing, that his baby is just a genius. “If you're giving the bottles, you'll be her best friend in no time.”

“Should I go ahead and take her upstairs and then come back for you?”

“No, I'm fine on the couch until bedtime. I could use a change of scenery. Just go and get something to read,” Luis slips his jacket off and takes Rosa back from the carrier. “Will you be more of a daddy's girl now that Daddy was who took you on a fun walk outside?”

Luis gets the unnecessary clothing layers off and positions her sitting up in his lap, and Ethan sits down right next to him, opening a picture book and propping it up on their laps where they can all see it. It's not just any book, it's a pop-up book. Rosa is enthralled, smiling and reaching out a tiny hand to start grabbing at the cardboard animals that are popping up out of the pages.There's a look of concern on Ethan's face– he was very prepared for fatherhood and must be well-read enough to know that a baby this young shouldn't be reaching for objects yet. She should be looking at faces intensely, maybe looking at the book's pictures, but not trying to grab at anything. She probably shouldn't even be awake and happy right now, she hasn't slept since before her last bottle.

And Ethan has shown enough concern and awareness of his infection that he's surely making the same connection Luis did, that her acting beyond her age is less her just being a genius and more related to her father being made of mold when she was conceived. But he wipes the concern off his face and says nothing, instead shifting his gaze to the book and beginning to read aloud.

She's asleep by the end of the book. Luis adjusts so she's cradled in his arms, not propped upright.

“If you want a nap, just say the word and I'll take her. But if you don't, I'm not going to fight and insist on taking her. It would be fighting a losing battle.”

“You know me so well,” Luis agrees, before grabbing the TV remote and passing it to Ethan. “Find us a Christmas movie. I still need to be educated on the America way to celebrate. All we did in Valdelobos was little presents and all the religious nonsense.”

“You do. It's a lot more fun here, especially with kids. I'll ask Chris to bring us a tree and some ornaments. I'm not leaving you two alone long enough to get any of it myself. We should pick out some presents to order too. She's too young to really understand any of it, but I still want to wrap some presents for her and leave them under the tree,” Ethan stops and thinks for a moment before he keeps talking. “To be paranoid, we probably shouldn't have any baby things shipped directly here?”

“You know, I wouldn't say you're being paranoid. It's a very justified concern,” Luis affirms. “Bet we could talk Claire into going out for us. Get a catalog and circle things or just a plain old list to give her so she can buy everything. I know her and Sherry like Christmas shopping, they've tried to get me things every year, she wouldn't mind. Then we wouldn't have to worry about shipping or anything.”

“She said she wanted me to call her tonight and update her on how you're doing, I'll ask then.”

“Perfect.”

Ethan finally turns the TV on and flips through channels until he gets to a decent movie. Then he sets the remote aside and turns his attention to Luis and Rosa, pressing his body against Luis's and stretching an arm out behind his back. His other hand gently strokes Rosa's cheek a couple times and then rests on Luis's thigh. While he'd like more physical affection with his little miracle, he doesn't want to risk waking her up.

Luis tries to focus on the TV, but his eyes keep going to Ethan, who looks deep in thought.

“Mi regalo, what are you thinking about?”

“You,” Ethan answers immediately. “I'm glad you wanted to go outside. I was really worried about you during the pregnancy. Not just because you felt so awful physically… You were in bed constantly. I was worried your depression would get bad again, like when I first met you and you never left the house. I'm really glad you wanted out today, it's good for your mind. As soon as we stop being paranoid enough that we can handle letting Claire babysit for a few hours, I'm taking you out on a nice date.”

“That'll be a long time. We might even be married first! That'll be easier, Rosa will be the flower girl, in a carrier with one of us the whole time, then we won't be worrying about her.”

“Having a baby, then getting married, then going out on a date. We really botched the order.”

“And taking it slow, we shat the bed there. We're just not built to do things the right way, and that's okay, we still ended up with a perfect baby. I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you too. And I love our little Rosa María. More than anything. I'll always be there for you, and for her. Protecting you both from everything,” Ethan looks back down at Rosa, and dares to stroke her cheek again, and holds one of her hands too. “If anyone so much as touches a hair on that perfect little head, I'll make sure they regret it.”

[satorugojooo]

No matter what, I'll always be by your side~

I literally saw this idea on Tumblr, but in my prior scenarios I thought about it too since my oc in jjk can use rct as well but on others too like Shoko, so here it is~

Warnings: well... Blood I guess, injuries, but nothing much, jjk 226 spoilers

Genre: mostly fluff

"SENSEI!" Yuji shouted as he watched his teacher get slashed by Sukuna trough the screen. Everyone looked shocked at the screens.

"Satoru!" you quickly said as you panicked a little. You knew very well that he wouldn't die right now, he won't do it from a single slash, but it hurt seeing your lover with a big cut in his neck.

"I'm going to him, I need to be there to heal him." you announced and Shoko looked at you.

"Pfft don't be ridiculous Y/n, you can't go there, it's way too dangerous, plus Satoru wouldn't want you there." she said and you were quickly stopped by Yuta.

"Y/n-San, I'm sure that Gojo-San has everything under control, don't forget that he can use rct just like you. He can heal himself." Yuta said and you looked at your hand.

"Ugh... Fine. But if something happens, I'm out." you said as you looked stressed at the screen. Satoru started to heal himself with rct but... Sukuna kept on slashing his whole body.

"Satoru..." you mumbled as you looked at the screen with tears, you simply had to get there somehow. No matter what would have happened.

"Y/n! You can't-" Mei Mei said as you got up but before you could argue you saw that Satoru stopped healing himself letting Sukuna slash him.

"... What... What is he doing??" you said desperately as you approached the screen to have a better look. It had no sense what he was trying to do right now... In this rythm he would only hurt himself.

"Is that... Even possible??" Yuta asked as Gojo casted simple domains, fighting Sukuna with his close combat. You watched with fear as his face was covered in blood.

"Don't tell me that he-" you mumbled as he pointed his finger at sukuna.

"Reversed curse tehnique: Red." he said and Sukuna got blasted on his shrine.

"He... He used his rct to heal his ct and use it against Sukuna." Yuta said amazed and you quickly left the room.

"Y/n!" Shoko said but you were already out. They turned to the screen only to see that Sukuna's domain collapsed, it seemed that the shrine was indeed the center of the domain.

As you quickly arrived in Shibuya, where they were fighting you spotted Satoru still with scars and blood all over himself.

"Satoru!" you yelled as you landed next to him, he looked at you surprised.

"Y/n?? What are you doing here, you shouldn't be here!" he said seriously, he wasn't this serious many times, but now he knew very well that Sukuna was no childish play.

"I came to heal you, you can't fight in this state anymore!" you said as you placed your hands on his chest and a light ray started to come from your hands. You closed your eyes using your rct.

Satoru just watched you heal him with a small loving smile, you were the only one that ever saw this side of him, and he was so happy to see you right now.

"Done..." you said as you looked into his eyes with a look of relief.

"Thank you my dear." he said as he took your wrists and looked at you gently, now his face was clean without scars like before. He slowly leaned down and have you a peck on your lips caressing your hair.

"Well well well, what a lovely and absolutely disgusting reunion, came to die with your brat?" Sukuna said as he looked at you and gojo put an arm before you in a protective way.

"Just dare to touch her and your dead meat." Gojo said with a mocking tone and you looked at Gojo.

"Shall we end this fight?" you smiled and he winked at you.

"Yeah... Like good old times!" he said and you both prepared your cursed tehniques.

To be continued...

[alex-turners-world]

She covered it up when they broke up 6 years ago and still has his name there. Talk about not having moved on still after so many years. She didn't even have a boyfriend yet. It looks like Taylor waits for another chance with Alex. Keeps hinting him, keeps showing herself crying, keeps posting shade on Louise when she ever dares to post Alex. She fixed the SDTN tattoo after it started fading when they broke up. It's like she's fresh again thinking about fighting for Alex. I mean she's in LA the place she hates and keeps going to places they went together.

// She covered it up though, unlike a certain someone👀

No, I don't think she wants to get back with Alex. She looks totally fine without him. She covered up his name with a fucking tomb, that's quite the sign that she doesn't want him back. And why would she remove her SDTN tattoo? That's her song, he dedicated it to her.

She has said multiple times that she hasn't had a boyfriend because she can't find connection with anyone. And it's completely normal, especially given the fact that she was cheated on, it's not easy to find a partner after you experienced such a heartbreak. She needed time to heal.

And we really don't know what the reason of her crying is. Can't a woman just feel low sometimes? (Although I don't understand why would you want to post your crying face, but Taylor has always been like that 🤷🏻‍♀️)

As for shading Louise, uh, Taylor has every right to shade her. The bitch was sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back and then dared to post about it, and still dares to mock Taylor by posting those cups from LA house (that Taylor was posting drinking from them), copying her (that bathroom mirror selfie when she was wearing exactly the same white top and green shorts as Taylor). Louise was lucky Taylor didn't come up to her and slap her across her face. I would do it if I were her lol

Why shouldn't she go to places in LA where she used to go when she was with Alex? She probably likes those places and is healed enough not to associate them with Alex anymore. Or maybe she likes to remember them spending time there together? Happy memories with your ex do exist,you know. Do you not visit the places where you were with your ex?

[wellstringer]

Forget the Past, Stay With the Present

Finally, it's done ☠️ This took way longer than I said it would, but I wanted it to be good, so I let it cook more.

This fic is a whopping 2,925 words ☠️, which is most likely too long for this type of thing, but what's done is done.

This is a tickle fic, so if that isn't your jam you probably shouldn't read this. Anyways, enjoy :)

*Sigh*

The low hum of endless small talk could be heard throughout the Owl House as Luz opened the door to her room. It was only a few weeks after the defeat of Belos, and everyone was currently working together to rebuild the Boiling Isles.

It was safe to say that after everything she has been through, Luz was exhausted inside and out. Normally, when she was this tired, Luz would flop face first onto her new bed and pass out. 

But today she couldn’t bring herself to. 

Luz felt cold. Like she wasn’t fully present in her warm blooded body, and was just watching herself from behind.

Watching herself pretend she was happy. 

Like nothing was affecting her.

Like she did everything perfectly.

Everything seemed dark around her, reflecting her feelings of emptiness and regret. Not everything went perfectly after all.

King’s dad died. Eda lost her arm. So many buildings were destroyed all over the place. All Luz could think about was how she could have stopped it. Whether she avoided showing Philip the light spell or didn't try to fight Belos alone; if she did things differently maybe things could have been better.

“I mean, I almost got petrified for crying out loud.”

“Luz!”  

“If Belos decided not to spare me, I wouldn’t have been able to save anyone at all.”

“Luz!”

“Maybe if the Titan chose someone else to show the glyphs to, he wouldn’t-”

“LUZ!”

“WEH!?”

Luz looked towards her bed in shock; upon it sat a very concerned Amity Blight. 

Ah. Right, she told her to wait for her in her room while she finished helping Eda resort her junk in their newly refurbished home. And now her hermosa just saw her stare at nothing for at least a good two minutes. 

“Great job Luzer. Now your girlfriend is going to think you are out of your mind.”

Over on the bed, the last thing Amity cared about was if Luz had a few screws loose(which of course she didn’t, Luz was one of the brightest people she ever met, in more ways than one).

She just was worried that her batata was not okay.

That she was hurting inside just like before, and hiding it despite how much Amity has begged her not to.

“Luz what's wrong? Why are you just standing over there?”

Luz looked into Amity’s eyes. Amity looked just as concerned as she did countless times before when Luz did stupid and/or reckless things. She had the same expression from when Luz told her about her dad being dead.

Luz opened her mouth and tried to morph her own expression to something more palatable, but then Amity’s eyebrows furrowed. Luz deflated and looked away, her resolve to try to fake happiness sliced down to nothing by her carino’s gaze.

Amity was relieved that Luz didn’t attempt to lie straight to her face again, since she would have become very aggravated if she did. Both with Luz for refusing to be vulnerable with her, and for Luz since she just wanted to help her heal. 

Amity decided a while back that she would not let anyone hurt the heart she wants to love and protect anymore, not even its owner. She knows Luz has a habit of blaming herself for problems she didn’t cause and oftentimes fixed, and she needed to find a way to show her the truth. She was going to help Luz, even if her batata didn’t think she was worth the care.

“Could you come here please?”

Luz still wouldn’t look at her, but Amity could see that her frown grew at that.

This just made Amity’s heart ache even more for her light. She knew that Luz was probably feeling guilty for worrying her, so she decided to try speaking in a more lighthearted tone and joking around to coax her over.

“*sigh* Oh woe is me! I have no one to cuddle with! If this is not fixed soon, I will end up snuggle deficient and depressed!”

Amity saw Luz’s expression shift a bit to one of curiosity. The abomination master smiled at that, then fell backwards onto the bed and put an arm over her eyes.

“What will become of me now? Am I destined to be lonely forever? Oh, if only someone would come to my aid!”

Luz rolled her eyes, a small smile forcing its way onto her face. Her girlfriend could be so dramatic at times, but she loved that about her, just like she adored every other aspect of her cotton candy haired goddess.

Amity peeked out discreetly from under her arm. Her smile grew when she realized her plan was working. Amity kept her eyes covered and rolled around a bit.

“I’m fading away! I’m doomed!”

Luz started giggling at that, her girlfriend’s goofy antics being too extra to ignore.

Amity beamed beneath her arm. She missed Luz’s laugh so much.

“Wait, was that a giggle I heard?! I’m saved! Please dear hero, come over here and help me. I can’t bear to be alone anymore!”

Luz sighed and giggled a bit more. 

After she heard footsteps come her way, Amity moved her arm so that she could get a good look at her girlfriend. Luz was smiling, and though it was definitely not the brightest one she’s worn, it was a start. Amity sat up and grabbed Luz’s hands.

“Thank you for coming over, I feel so much better now.”

Luz frowned again, causing her girlfriend to do the same. No matter what happened, she couldn’t seem to shake the negative thoughts from her mind.

Amity suddenly pulled Luz straight onto her lap, causing her to let out a squeak and put her hands on the bed to keep herself from knocking them both over.  

“Sweet potato what-!?”

“Shhh, relax batata.”

Amity hugged her Luz close. 

“You know you can tell me anything right? You promised me no more hiding, and I just want you to feel safe.” 

Luz bit her lip as her eyes watered slightly. She remembered her promise.

As tears welled up in her eyes, Luz shifted so that her legs were crossed around Amity on the bed and hugged her back. She was only wearing socks, so she didn’t have to worry about getting the bed dirty.

“I know, I didn’t forget mi amor. It’s just hard, ya know?”

Amity grimaced and hugged Luz tighter.

“I know baby, and you can take all the time you need. What’s most important is that you ask for help when you need it ok? You are always worth it to me, no matter what you think.”

Tears came to Luz’s eyes and she sniffled a bit. Amity always knew how to make her feel loved.

“O-Ok, I think I can talk about it now.”

Amity pulled back to look into Luz’s eyes and waited expectantly.

Luz sighed and tightly gripped the edges of her shorts with her hands as she pulled herself together. She needed to be fully honest about this.

“I just can’t seem to stop thinking about how I could have done everything better. I didn’t have to show Philip the light spell, but I did. I didn’t have to fight Belos alone, but I did. And if I was just a little bit faster when I saved the Collector, I wouldn’t have died. Maybe the titan could have been saved.”

Although she let Luz speak without interruption, Amity desperately wanted to cut her off once she brought up the Collector. When Amity first heard that Luz died she was heart broken, and she didn’t want to think about it again.

However, if her batata needed to, she would let her talk about it forever.

 “Luz, you did the best you could, and no one could ask for more than that. If you hadn’t fought Belos, everyone would have been dead. When you gave him the light spell, you did thinking you were being kind to someone who was not evil. It is not your fault he took advantage of your kindness. Even if you didn’t give it to him, he would have found it anyway. Nothing could have prevented the Day of Unity from occurring, but you kept it from completion.”

“But-”

“I’m not done yet.”

Amity cupped Luz’s face with one hand, while she used her other arm to keep Luz secure in her lap. She directed Luz’s gaze to her own, driven by a need to have Luz understand just how serious she was about this.

“From what you said when you told us about meeting the Titan, he was already dying before you he talked to you. Luz, I would never want you to die, and I was beyond upset when I found out you did, but there is nothing we could do to change the past. You are alive now, and you are still with us in a peaceful world. No one can ask for more than that, and no one would.”

Amity pecked Luz on the lips and then leaned her forehead against hers.

“We love you Luz. I love you. You did an amazing job, and everyone will always appreciate you for that.”

“*Sniff* You mean that?”

Luz started crying once Amity finished, not able to hold back any longer. This had been bothering her for so long, and hearing Amity say all that took a huge load off of her heart.

Amity gave Luz a soft smile.

“Always and forever, mi dulce batata. Now let it all out, I’m here for you.”

Luz cried for a bit, and Amity kept their foreheads together as she wiped away her tears and ran her hand up and down her back. This was a long time coming, and Amity was happy that Luz was opening up to her and showing her how she felt. Eventually, Luz stopped crying, and they looked into each other's eyes as Amity did her best to comfort her.

Suddenly, Luz had a shaky grin on her face. Amity continued looking into her eyes, expecting Luz to pull out a dumb joke to try to make them both feel better, but it never came. 

That means there was a different cause for the goofy grin.

Amity turned her head to see where she placed her hand, and found that it had ended up curled around Luz’s knee. Curiously, she gave it a gentle squeeze, then quickly looked back up to gauge her batata’s reaction. 

“EHEHEHE!”

Luz’s expression quickly turned from a sad one to one of shock. She didn’t remember her knees being so sensitive.

Amity smiled in surprise at her girlfriend’s adorable outburst, which quickly turned into smirking as a plan developed in her mind. It had been far too long since she heard her precious light laugh freely, plus she was still pretty upset that she had almost lost her favorite person forever. Amity wanted revenge for her heartache, and to see Luz truly happy again, so what better to do than to kill two birds with one stone by tickling a smile onto her face! 

Amity already knew that Luz liked being tickled from the tickle fights they had after becoming girlfriends, so she wasn’t worried about upsetting her. She would definitely stop if asked, but she had a feeling Luz wouldn’t want her to.

“My, my, batata, I knew you were ticklish, but not that ticklish! Maybe humans are more sensitive than I thought~”

Luz blushed a bright red once again as she gripped onto Amity’s wrists.

“Well I didn’t know I was that bad there either! I- EEK! HEHEHEY!”

Amity squeezed Luz’s knees again. She had an insufferable smirk on her face as she began to tickle all over Luz’s legs.

“Ehehe, less talking, more laughing. I haven’t seen you truly laugh in Titan knows how long, so there is no way I’m passing this opportunity up.

Luz blushed as she laughed. She didn’t realize it till now, but Amity was right; it was rare for her to laugh these days. Maybe this would be good for her.  

Amity then switched to kneading into Luz’s hips, and Luz couldn’t help but grab onto her and hug her tightly to ground herself. The tingly feeling from it shot all the way down her legs, causing her to squirm uncontrollably as she laughed her head off.

“WAHAIT AHAHAMIHITY! WAHAHAHA IHIT’S SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”

Amity blushed as Luz held onto her and basked in her laughter. She was happy this seemed to be working, but she did think it was a bit strange that Luz seemed so much more sensitive in certain spots than she was before.

“Hey Luz, earlier I was kind of just joking, but were you actually always this ticklish here? You seem way more sensitive than you used to be when I’ve tickled you before.”

Amity stopped tickling Luz so she could answer and wrapped her arms around her, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

It took a while for Luz to properly comprehend the question, as she was out of breath, but once she did she realized she had no clue why this was the case.

“I…. I don’t know, honestly. It certainly seems like my hips are more sensitive than before, and my knees too. I couldn’t imagine why though.”

Both of them sat there and pondered over the question for a moment. If something happened to those areas they may need to be checked out. 

After all, Amity refused to let anything happen to her light again.

Luz recalled everything that happened to her between the last time she was tickled and now. 

The last time was a few days before they left the human realm, when Gus and Hunter jumped her thinking she ate the last cookie, when it was actually Vee disguised as Luz. This meant it had to have happened after then. 

“Hey Amity?”

Amity snapped out of her thoughts and met her batata’s gaze.

“Yes carino?”

“I think I might have found a correlation between the spots, but I am going to need you to test something for me for more evidence.”

Amity tilted her head, confusion evident on her face.

“What do you need me to do batata?”

Luz blushed a deep red, embarrassed due to what she was about to ask.

“C-Can you tickle my ribs?”

Amity squealed internally; her batata was just too cute.

“Of course. It would be my pleasure~”

Before Luz could even react, Amity quickly spidered her fingers up and down her ribs. Luz immediately broke into hysterics once more.

“OHOHOK THAHAT’S GOHOHOOD! STOHOHOP!”

Amity immediately stopped and rubbed the ghost tickles away, her smirk already fully developed.

“Aw, had enough already?”

Luz blushed again and responded once she could breathe normally.

“Now to compare, ……I’m going to need you to tickle me everywhere besides my ribs, hips, and legs. Is that ok?”

Amity was surprised at that.

“Ok, if that’s what you want…”

Amity happily spent the next few minutes tickling Luz everywhere she could reach. She ran her fingers up and down her sides, scribbled over her belly, scritched under her arms, scratched at her neck, glided her nails over her back, caressed her ears, and even gently tickled her on top of her head.

Throughout the attack, Luz reacted the way she always had to the tickles; at least until Amity reached her scalp. 

Now Luz had nothing to compare this to, since it was her first time being tickled there, but she was pretty sure it was not supposed to tickle quite that badly. Especially when Amity tickled on both sides of her head, right where her horns were during the titan transformation….

Yeah, Luz was pretty sure her theory was correct.

“OHOHOK OHOHOK AHAHAMIHIHI! YOUHOHO CAHAHAN STOHOHOP NOHOHOW!”

Amity pulled her hands away and smiled at the giggly mess beneath her.

“Ok giggles, I’ll stop. Did that help at all?”

“Ha.. ha.. yeah. It helped more than I thought it would actually.”

Amity smiled at that, happy to help her batata any way she could.

“That’s great! So, what do you think happened?”

“I think I somehow became more sensitive in the bony areas that are more prominent during my titan transformation, like my knees and ribs.”

“Wow, really? You would think that the titan transformation would make you more resistant, not more sensitive.”

“I know right? I guess I should talk to Eda about it later so we can make sure it’s nothing bad. …I don’t really feel like leaving right now though.”

Luz’s childish behavior caused Amity to break down into giggles, and before long they were both laughing together. Once they calmed down, Amity gingerly dragged a finger up and down Luz’s ribs.

“I’m absolutely going to take advantage of this for as long as possible. You better be prepared to laugh more often, batata!” 

Luz started giggling again, even though the touch was incredibly light and over her clothes.

“Ahaha ohohok! Juhust behehe gehentle, ahahalrihight?”

“Of course~ At least for most of the time. Right now though…”

Amity rolled up Luz’s shirt to expose her ribs as Luz giggled nervously.

“I feel like having some ribs. That would make for a good afternoon snack, don’t you think?”

Luz’s hysterics could be heard throughout the whole house, and possibly all of Bonesburough, as Amity nibbled all over her ribs. No one was bothered by this however, since it was a sign that their Luz was alive, well, and finally happy again.

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #42: Call me your brother.

I finally got Fannie to talk, on a picnic blanket by the lake, while we shared a Gungan fish egg tea (which is merely an unfortunate name—they're tapioca pearls).

"I feel...lost," she admitted. She glanced at me, as if to gauge my reaction. "What I mean is...I've been back on Ryloth for almost four years now, doing what I always knew I'd be doing...what I thought was my life's purpose. Fighting injustice, and working to heal those who have been harmed. But...injustice never goes away, and there are always more who need help. The problems will never be fully solved..." She shook her head and bit her lip. "It's gotten to the point where I find it...hard to care anymore. And that truly frightens me. I do not want my heart to be dead."

"Hey," I said quietly. "There's a word for that, you know. Burnout. It's pretty normal."

"Well, it shouldn't be." She blinked out tears and looked at the sky. "How is it that I can listen to these women tell their stories, share their nightmares with me...and feel nothing? Or worse yet...I find myself getting bored. Or annoyed. Waiting for my lunch break. Watching the minutes with impatience while they weep. I feel like such a horrible person, and it's not like me at all. Unless I've changed, or...unless I've always been this way in secret, deep down." She looked terrified at the thought.

"That can't be it. You're the nicest person I know," I said. "Sounds like you're just a little depressed right now. And anyway...it looks like you do feel something." I took a napkin and patted the tears off her cheeks. "Have you talked to Luke about all this?"

Fannie sighed. "A little bit. Your uncle is so kind and a wonderful teacher and has good advice...but I don't think that's enough to help me. It's not like before, when I lived with him and the other Jedi and had their constant support. I go through my days alone now. And I don't know what to do."

"You're not alone," I told her. "You just have to reach out."

"Yes," she agreed. "But surely you know more than anyone that it's not as easy as it sounds, when you feel darkness all around you."

I nodded. She was right.

She laughed a little. "Imagine: me, talking about feeling darkness all around. Me, with my knitting and my ribbons and my bright pastels." She held up the corner of her sky-blue tunic with the pink ruffles she had sewn herself, and let it fall with another sigh.

"Hm, yeah." I bumped my shoulder against hers. "You know...I know a guy with a ton of black turtleneck sweaters he never wears. Maybe he can lend you some."

That got her to laugh, more genuinely this time. It felt good to make her laugh.

"Seriously though," I said. "It doesn't matter that you're Little Miss Ribbons McRuffles. Life can get anyone down. And just because you feel like this right now doesn't mean you're not still who you've always been. I know you're still you."

"Well...thank you, Ben." She smiled a little.

But then something else seemed to cross her mind, and her smile vanished like air being sucked out of an airlock. Her face grew dark and concentrated. I noticed her fingers start to twitch in her lap—a phantom knitting project.

"...Fannie? You okay?" I scooped up both her hands with one of mine and made her lose count of the invisible stitches. She looked at me, surprised, and shook her head.

"No...Ben....there's...well, there's something else going on."

Her hands were quivering. I had a feeling this was bad.

"Okay," I said solemnly. "Spill."

"It's—" She stopped abruptly, as if desperately holding back the words from leaving her mouth, then tried once more. "It's my—" She choked again and planted her face in her hands.

I got on my knees and shuffled around so I could face her. "Hey. It's okay," I said. I gently pulled her hands down.

Her eyes shot open, like sharp unseeing daggers. I jumped a little and almost withdrew my hands from hers.

"It's my youngest sister," she blurted. "Pennie." Her voice was strained, yet monotone. As if she could not feel. "My father...Pentarra..."

Then she started to crumble, her lips trembling, her eyes blinking rapidly and darting around like panicked fireflies. She took a few jagged breaths, in and out, in and out—then suddenly she locked eyes with me and spoke hoarsely.

"My father has made my sister one of his dancers."

The statement hit like a space freighter slamming into me. I stared at her.

Fannie had often told me about her family on Ryloth, her story unusual to someone who'd grown up in the Core Worlds like me. How her father Ruut Pentarra, a rich and powerful Twi’lek, had several "wives" who were really more like slaves—one of whom being Fashha, Fannie’s mother. She’d told me about her three younger sisters, Connie, Ginnie, and Pennie, and about her nine other half-siblings. And she’d told me how Pentarra praised his sons and treated them as such, but seemed to ignore his daughters.

Well...until now, at least. Ew.

"...How old is Pennie now?" I asked, after a long silence. I was thinking of my own sister, Rey, who was thirteen. I couldn't remember, but I hoped Pennie was older—not that it would make things much better.

"Nineteen," Fannie said. "But she is still more girl than woman."

I didn't know what to say. My first thought was something along the lines of "that has to be illegal," but we'd had that conversation so many times before. Ryloth was an independent world, not part of the New Republic, so their laws and law enforcement were different from ours. And anyway, Pentarra's influence and wealth protected him from a lot. Fannie had told me stories of things he'd gotten away with that I couldn't believe.

“Pennie is too immature to understand,” Fannie went on, staring hard into the distance. “She has always felt overlooked. So now, she is pleased to receive what she sees as extra attention, a recognition of her adulthood, and an honor not given to any of her sisters. And Pentarra sees Pennie’s hunger for love, and uses it to his advantage. I tried to speak to my sister, to convince her to leave, but she is so blinded by delusion that she accused me of being jealous. My heart is broken for her."

Fannie's lips curled into a faint odd smile, and she looked straight at me. Her brown eyes, normally soft and kind, were intense.

"I would love to spill my father's blood," she stated calmly, sweetly, with an eerie lilt. Her lips pulled back to reveal a feral, toothy grimace that sent a chill down my spine. "And drink it. Drop by drop."

I could only look back at her, shocked. Not at what she said, because I felt she was entitled to that sentiment (well, okay, maybe the drink-it-drop-by-drop part was just a little unhinged)—but shocked because it was coming from Fannie, the good girl Jedi who had asked me not to use swear words in front of her.

And then her eyes widened and she looked all scared and she shuddered all over and turned away. "Oh my goodness. It just came out. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I would say such a thing. You see? I'm not myself." She gave a distracted whimper and went back to her imaginary needles and yarn.

I chewed on my lip, thinking carefully. All right. Well. This was...a lot. Like...a lot a lot.

After a pause, I reached out and took her hands in mine.

"...Okay," I said slowly. "So. You're not going back to Ryloth. At least, not after we go back and get your stuff. You're gonna stay here with me for a while."

She shook her head again without looking at me. "I told you already, Ben. I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to be roommates with a boy."

"Hey." I swiped my knuckles against her cheek playfully. "I'm no boy, sister. I'm a gentleman."

“Maybe if you’d been wearing a shirt this morning, I’d believe you.”

There was just a hint of a smirk on her face—the mischievous side of her that rarely revealed itself. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m just teasing you,” she said with that tiny smirk, then cleared her throat and picked at some fuzz on the picnic blanket. “But…I don’t know, Ben.”

"Come on. I lived in the same house as Rey for three years and she's a girl."

She gave me an exasperated, are-you-stupid kind of look. "Well, of course, Ben. Rey's your sister."

"Not by blood," I reminded her. I was going somewhere with this. "What's that Twi'lek thing you always used to say? Kartakk..."

Her eyes told me she'd picked up what I was putting down (even if my Twi'leki pronunciation was atrocious). "Kartakk erai de numa,'" she finished begrudgingly. It was the phrase that Twi'lek slave women were said to have whispered to one another in passing to show camaraderie. Fannie had said it to me many times in the past.

"Which means...?" I gave her a nudge with the back of my hand.

She sighed. "'Call me your sister.'"

"Yeah. See? You're my sister, too."

“But...I can't leave Ryloth. I have my work…”

“Which is…?” I prodded. She blinked.

“...Holocounseling.”

“Exactly. You can do that from Naboo.”

She was quiet.

"...Hey," I said. "You had fun today, right?" She nodded slowly. "Well...maybe getting away for a bit is just what you need. You said you feel like you face every day alone, so...maybe it could be good for you to be less on your own. At least for a little while."

She stayed quiet. I saw her counting stitches in her head.

And then...

"...Well...maybe I can stay with you for the summer," Fannie said finally. "For just a couple of months. Till...till I can get back to my old self again."

She smiled. Genuinely. It was like that time I'd called her a month ago. Like sun breaking through the clouds.

I smiled back. It was good to see her smile.

[jaybird-fanfics]

Villain Roommate |Chapter Two|

You weren't able to sleep that night, you made sure to call in sick to work in the morning. All night long, you couldn't stop thinking about what happened. How you brought a villain into your home and healed him so he could continue doing his evil deeds. You should have just left him there, you shouldn't have approached him at all. But how could you have known? You just wanted to help who you thought was a dying person on the street.

"That doesn't matter." You say aloud to yourself. "I'm no hero. It's not my job to save people."

Man were you exhausted. Using up all that energy healing Dabi and not sleeping, you were more tired than you had ever been. You turned in your bed, trying to fall asleep, but it just wasn't happening.

You then heard a knock at your door. "Ugh...go away." You say into your pillow. The knocking continued, you grumbled as you got out of bed and walked to the living room. You approached the door and opened it, heart dropping as you saw who it was on the other side.

"Hey again."

You tried to slam the door shut, but Dabi caught it. "Nice try." He was much stronger than you, you felt the door slowly being opened further as you tried to push against it. "You're not even going to let me in? A guest?"

"No! Just...Just go away!"

Dabi took a step forwards, forcing himself inside. "Shut up and listen." He shuts the door behind him. "I need you to heal me again."

"Why should I? You're a villain, I'm not going to lend my help to you!" Dabi rolled his eyes. "It's the least you can do. Especially after you touched me like you did without my permission." You felt heat rush to your face. "I was healing you! Nothing more! Now get out before I call the cops on your burnt up ass!" You didn't know where you got the nerve to yell like you were doing, maybe it was a rush of adrenaline from pure fear. Maybe you just wanted this no good son a bitch out of your house before the neighbors get suspicious.

Dabi smirked. "Whoa, feisty. I like it. Now hurry up and heal me, you can touch me again, since you liked it so much last time."

"If I had known it was you the whole time, I would have never even thought about healing you!" You told him sharply. "So, you're not denying that you liked it?" Dabi asks. Now he was just toying with you.

"Get out."

Dabi chuckled. "I don't think you're in a position to be making demands, sweetheart. Remember who has the power to burn anything he so desires. I suggest you get to it." Blue flames began to engulf Dabi's hand. You tensed, now he was threatening you. And he meant business.

Not feeling like dying today, you reluctantly agreed. "Fine...go sit down." You pointed to the couch. Dabi extinguish the flame and walked past you. "That's a good girl, doing what she's told." This asshole was really getting on your last nerve. Better believe if you had a stronger quirk, you'd make him take his shitty condescending words back. You followed him and sat next to him, it's really too bad your couch was so small. You didn't want to be closer to him than you had to be.

"Because of you, my energy is completely drained. So don't blame me if I can't heal you properly." Dabi said nothing to that, and just waited for you to do what you did best. "Where are you hurt?" You asked. Dabi moved his shirt up, all across his stomach were a few slices. "What happened?" You ask. "My..."friend" did this to me."

"Your friend? Why would a friend do this?"

"We got into a little fight, and they pulled out a knife. You can tell the rest. Enough questions, just do it." You huff before placing your hands on his abdomen. You focused as hard as you could, but could only heal them partially. You panted feeling dizzy. "I-I told you...I couldn't heal it right." Dabi looked at his stomach, it wasn't bleeding anymore, but they were still fresh. "It's fine."

"...It's going to get infected." You mutter.

"Why do you care?" Dabi asks. "I don't. I just don't want you coming back here again." You stand and walk to your bathroom. You opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some ointment and hurried back to Dabi. You began to rub the ointment on his cuts. You could Dabi's eyes on you the whole time, it made you nervous, and so you hands began to shake.

"Aw, do I make you nervous?"

You tried to ignore him and focus on what you were doing. Finally you finished up and backed away from him. "Alright, I did what you wanted. Now please just leave." Dabi stood up, pulling his shirt back down. "So you did." He grinned. He walked past you once again. "Before I leave, can I know the name of my hero?"

"I'm not a hero and..." You might as well tell him your name, he already knows where you live. "It's Y/n."

"Y/n. Yeah, it suits you." Dabi compliments before he makes his way to the door. "Until next time, Y/n."

You really hope he was joking, you never wanted to see his face ever again. But just how likely would it be? He did know where you lived, he knows your name, would he really be seeing you again? You shivered at the thought of him making a regular appearance around you. The last thing you needed was a villain showing up whenever he damn well pleased.

"I don't want my neighbors thinking I'm associated with you in the slightest. So I prefer you not show up here again." Dabi chuckled. Then, he left, leaving you breathless once again.

'What am I doing? Healing a person like him. He threatened me...it's not like I had a choice this time. And now he knows where I live damn it!' You thought with despair.

"I can't do this again..."

Previous | Next

(I'm going to try to publish at least two chapters at a time every Monday until the book is finished. However, this might change if I get a little stuck in writer's block. So yeah, I hope you enjoy this fic, I've had a good time writing it so far so hopefully you guys will as well ^w^)

[donewithflare]

[ ☎ ] my muse calls yours in tears. [ keegan → zaya; when they were teenagers. ]

The cordless phone buzzed loudly on hook echoing loudly through the Dolma apartment. Zaya rushed to the phone in hopes not to miss it, her parents yet to invest in a phone with a decent called ID as it was too pricy. "I'll get it mom!" Zaya yelled at the top of her lungs as her room spread through their tiny Brooklyn Apartment. She picked up the large beige, answering the polite way her parents had taught her too. "Hello Dolma residence, who may I ask is calling?" With no reply, half expecting it to be some dumb cold call, she was about to hang up the phone. When she heard some wet, snotty sniffling over the phone. A sound she was pretty familiar with.

A cocky smirk appeared on her lips, knowing this would be fun. She slide on the kitchen counter, getting herself comfy and ready to chew out her favorite person. "Oh for fucksakes Dweeb,what did you do?" Only to be followed by more sniffling, she tucks her legs together on the counter,"Who's ass am I beating up now for you? Cause I still haven't fully recovered from the last beatdown." She smiled softly looking at her bloodied and bruised arms that Keegan had delicately bandaged with extra care after her last fight. Zaya smiles softly at how careful he was. His hands were meant for healing. Her hands only destruction. A perfect balance between the two. "You know you really gotta stop getting into fights defending my ass. Doesn't really matter to me what other people think of me." Only you though. Zaya laughs in hopes to lighten the mood. Yet he keeps on crying.

Her grip on the phone tightens, as she jumps of the counter, ready to bounce into action. "Okay who's fucking ass am I going to need to beat?" Zaya already cracking her knocks and stretching out,"I can last a few rounds. Bring the first aid kit, this other asshole is not gonna know what hit them!" Yet there is still him weeping on the phone. No usual protests or warnings for her to be careful. None of him taking the blame and saying it was his fault. This was not what her Keegan was like.

She leans against the wall, pushing the phone closer to ear like how close she would want him to be if he were here right this moment. "Keegs..."her tone softens desperate to get some coherent words out of him,"Please...please tell me what's wrong. You're making me worried. Come on, it's me..." her tone is sincere, full of care. She finds her free hand clinging tightly to her chest where her heart is meant to be. Although, she wouldn't admit it out loud...Keegan played a pretty important part of heart.

Hearing him cry was killing her. "Speak to me or I'm coming over!" Zaya was almost ready to hang up the phone and make her way over to his to comfort him. But then there as an inaudible mumbling from his send. "Woah, say that again this time more slowly and clearer!" Again he talks fast. It was time to pull out the big guns,"Five seconds to tell me properly or else, I'm telling your mom." And with those words he sung like a Canary.

"The Fuck Keegs ...you are crying because you don't have a freaking prom date. Proms are lame anyway," Zaya commented chewing hard on the inside of her cheek. "Who did you ask...you know for reasons....no I'm not going to be making a hitlist with all the bitches who said now to you ass wipe." Which was a very blatant lie. Only she was allowed to kick his ass. Or make him cry. "Listen Keegs," she sighed, "Anyone would be lucky to go to the prom with you." She pauses, "Fuck it, if you don't have a date then I'll be your date, okay?"

The words slip out before she could think. A long pause between them follows. He isn't crying anymore. Zaya, however, wonders if she had crossed a line between them. The very fine line between love and hate. Maybe she shouldn't have said a thing. The silence breaks by a female voice on the other end of the phone.

"So will you got to prom with him then?"

Zaya is taken back by the other voice on the phone. Her tone quickly switches to a polite with undertones of I'm going to kill you later Keegan, in it. "Oh, Mrs Jeong, hi there, Keegan didn't mention you were also in this call."

"So will you, Zaya?" her voice filled with hope for her little boy.

"Sure...yes I will go to the prom with Keegan," Zaya feels her cheeks blush as she smiles. She can hear the two of them whispering and high fiving over the other side of the phone. "But do you mind if I walk to Keegan alone for a moment.?" There is more whispering on the other side as he is trying to dismiss his mom away for them to have a moment alone.

When the line was left for the two of them, there was another brief pause."So does this count as me asking you out or your mom ask me out for you dweeb?" She pauses,"You know you didn't have to ask...I kind figured we would end up going together anyway. You can be suck a fucking idiot sometimes." Zaya continues to carelessly laugh "Promise me, you'll never change Keegs?"

[gryphonlover]

Whumptober 2023 Day 3

Prompt: journal

Victim: Four

Words: 1346

Notes: Journaling really can help, but talking to people is also very important.

Zelda says that journaling will help me process the stuff that happened after I pulled the Four Sword. I'm not sure that I believe that, but she said I either had to use the journal, or talk things out with someone and I would rather jump in a cucco pen than talk about my feelings at this point.

I had a dream last night. I put the Four Sword back in the pedestal but didn't merge back into one person. It felt so real and then I woke up.

Maybe if I'd never pulled the Four Sword I wouldn't be so broken now. I don't even know who I am anymore.

I hate the way that people look at me now. They hate me because all they can see is the guy who sicced a dragon on the castle. Shadow was the real hero, though. I or we or whatever couldn't manage to fight one stupid flying eyeball so he sacrificed his life. He doesn't deserve this.

Zelda said we could make Shadow a memorial if I want. I need to think about it.

I told her yes. He shouldn't be forgotten. He gave up everything for Hyrule.

Today we went and made him a memorial. I cried. I miss him. I wish we'd been able to see eye-to-eye sooner. Maybe he wouldn't be dead and I wouldn't be alone.

The house is always empty. Dad is never home. It has to be my fault. He worked a lot before, but he always had time for me. Now he just avoids me. I wish I'd never pulled the Four Sword. Maybe then I wouldn't be crazy. I want things to go back to the way they were before.

I don't know if I can do this. I'm on indefinite leave for… something, and it's not like I can take an apprenticeship anywhere. I'm going crazy with nothing to do.

Everything is so stupid. Why can't anyone just treat me like a normal person!? I'm not a bomb, I'm not going to stab people in the back or set Castletown on fire for crying out loud! I just want to be a proper knight again and to have people respect me and shut up about Shadow.

Maybe I really am crazy.

I'm going to dig up the fire rod. They can't stop me.

In my defense, it was only a little fire. I just wanted to blow off some steam and thought that a controlled fire on Mount Crenel would be fine, but no, now I'm in solitary confinement for a whole day with nothing but this stupid journal.

I just want to feel whole again. I thought that maybe I could— look, it was a dumb decision, I know that, they don't need to rub it in my face.

Solitary confinement is overrated. So is probation. I hate life.

New plan: going to that place Blue got frozen.

Yeah, okay that was also a bad idea. Hypothermia is real.

I have been royally banned from travelling to any more "dangerous climates with dangerous weapons." Stupid Zelda and her stupid princess stuff.

I just want to be us again. I hate being this. I hate having so many thoughts and feelings and memories crammed in my head.

I don't care anymore, I need the sword back.

Well as it turns out the sword hates me. Great.

Back in solitary confinement. Two days for "vandalizing public property." If you ask me, the Four Sword's sanctuary shouldn't count as public property. Zelda and I are the only people who go there, and no one maintains it. Besides, the sword itself and it's stupid pedestal are apparently indesctructible because of stupid goddess magic, anyway.

I am at the end of my rope. If I can't split back, then I don't know what else to do. Everyone keeps telling me that "time heals all wounds" and stuff, but if anything it just gets worse with time. They don't get it. I was split into four people and then crammed back into one body and Shadow died.

Day 2 of solitary confinement. I really don't get why they think putting the crazy guy in solitary is going to make him less crazy. This is stupid.

I'm pretty sure crying every day isn't normal, but who even cares anymore.

I can't do this.

Turns out I have no choice. Some guy with the same name as me showed up at the house. He seems nice enough, so I told him I'd go fight evil or whatever with him. At least I can get something useful out of my life before I kick the bucket.

Ran into another person named Link. Nicknames are in order. I need to think about mine.

Having a new name feels good. Link didn't really fit anymore. I was Link before the Four Sword, then… well, now I'm Four. It feels right.

Sky and Hyrule are pretty nice. Hyrule seems a bit jumpy, but he takes good care of his sword, and Sky is basically just a star-crossed lover. I miss the way things were before I put the Four Sword back, but it's nice to have a distraction.

Today Twilight joined the group. He's got some weird tattoos on his face, and a wolf pelt for some reason, but he's also pretty nice. A bit obsessed with goats, though.

Twilight has integrated into the group well. He balances out Hyrule's wandering. I don't know how, but he always knows where everyone is.

Wind is pretty fun, but he reminds me of Red. It… hurts.

Wind is determined to be friends. I do not want to be friends.

I am now friends with Wind and have no idea how.

Time is unsettling, but seems to know what he's doing. He's kind of like how Dad was before the Four Sword.

Time is also a star-crossed lover. Him and Sky will not shut up about their wives.

Wild is very Wild. Twilight has taken to him, and so have Hyrule and Wind. I am preparing myself for pranks.

I want to go home.

Legend is a grump. I'm not sure if I like him or not.

Legend has adopted Hyrule. I am only a little bit jealous.

I'm crying in the woods. Legend is just like Blue. This is stupid and I hate it.

Warriors is kind of like me, except actually good at his job. I wish I'd been able to beat Vaati. Shadow would be alive if I was better at my job.

I want to punch Warriors in his stupid pretty face.

Sparring practice went okay. I haven't sparred properly in a long time, but I think I did good enough. Now I'm sore all over. I would be taking a bath, except SOMEONE is hogging all the water. Ugh.

I am so sick of walking. I wish Miss Fairy could just teleport us around. Man, that was convenient. I wonder where she is now?

I think I'm doing okay at fitting in, but they don't seem to expect much of me. Maybe it's because I'm short?

Finally got to punch Warriors in the face. I'm sitting in jail, but it was so worth it. That felt good.

Legend bailed me out. That was weirdly nice of him.

Wind made me talk about feelings. The audacity.

Okay, so maybe talking it out helped. Maybe Wind was right about communicating with the group better.

We did more talking today, this time it was everyone. It went well. They didn't hate me for anything I told them, and they actually understood how I felt.

I'm going to keep the journal just in case, but I have people I can trust now. It's going to be okay.

[elpida]

“if i ever get my hands on them…” (for Eris)

Eris had lied. She'd told him that she got jumped on her walk on from work when in reality, she'd been on a job this morning. Not her nice little desk job where she faked her normal life, the real job. She'd been sent after some big shot, some idiot with money that flounced his cash around with ease only what she got warned as just two bodyguards, ended up being double and she had to fight her way out of it tooth and nail. It'd left her with some bruises on her lower ribs but more importantly, a bust lip and a small cut to the side of her face, just pushing into her hairline, that she'd yet to sort.

She'd taken her important items, her cash, stuffed it in her bra and discarded of her bag so it at least looked like she'd been mugged. Play that part, even roughed up her outfit. "It's fine I just— can't be late for work and I'm late, he uh.. he'll fire me and.." she huffed air out. Eris would've made a fantastic acttress."I need that job... I like that job, and god I—" she pushed some hair out of her face. "I'm meant to be his pretty face when people come in you know? Not.." she gestured as herself, even made sure that her hands had a little shake to them. The reality was she'd cleaned up wounds a million times.

"It was my fault Tommy I was an idiot I went down the alleyway because I was running late and I shouldn't have I should've just gone the long way right?" It was sad really, that she'd spend hours in the face of a mirror, cleaning and dabbing at her own wounds to the point where she wasn't even sure it hurt anymore, that half the time these surface wounds felt numb after the initial sting... there'd never been anyone to bandage her up, nobody that wanted to use gentle hands to heal her wounds as oppose to cause them. "I thought it'd be okay, where you in a meeting? I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't think."

What came next, wasn't entirely a lie.. it wasn't, in some way it was true. She wasn't sure whether it came from a place of being a kid crying out for help or being an adult, clawing her way back out of a deep hole of shit, but what she said to him was the truth, and it was only because some scrap of her soul, trusted and believed him when he showed her he wasn't the one that'd hurt her. "I was just...scared and I didn't know where else to go." her lip, pulling into a quivering downturned pout. Of course when her day got thrown so terribly off, she'd find her way here, when everything was going wrong. He was a shelter to her, and she couldn't even see that yet. "I mean did I do something wrong? Did I deserve this? Do you think death is mocking me?"

[filthforfriends]

The Hybrid (Part 3)

Read parts 1 & 2 on my Masterlist

Damiano x Thomas deranged Omegaverse

Word Count: 5.8k

CW: Gratuitous, self-indulgent, sacrilegious hurt/comfort mentioning domestic abuse

Vic: Weird question but is Damia with you by any chance? He stood me up for lunch today & he’s not answering his phone. 

Vic: Hey just remembered you’re working, sorry! I’ll just go bother him he probably forgot.

Vic: Oh my god Thomas call me

“Hey its, Victoria, call me when you get this is really important. It’s about Damiano, the security force is here.” 

“Hey it's me again. I’m taking him to the hospital and he’s asking for you. I don’t think he’s too hurt.”

Vic: The doctors are evaluating Damiano (check your fucking voice messages). Why aren’t you answering??? I know you’re off work

Vic: HES ASKING FOR YOU

“Thomas, I can’t deal with this alone. So call me soon, or I’ll call Ethan. You better have an excellent fucking excuse.”

“Hey, it's Ethan. Victoria told me to tell you to call her. What's going on?”

Ethan: Is Dami hurt? Victoria sounded really upset, but she said she needed your help. Let me know that everything is okay, please.

Thomas had silenced his phone for a private music therapy session. He ended up talking to the parents for 45 minutes afterwards, giving them assurance more than anything else. Feeling excellent about his day, Thomas turned his phone back on to check his messages and had an actual panic attack. He crouched down, aching pain in his chest, feeling sick, and called Victoria. 

“What the fu -”

“Work ran late, I’m so sorry. Where is he?”

“He insisted we go back to his place, but he’s been regressing. Like he’s not even verbal.”

“I’m coming now!” Thomas tripped over his own feet, grabbing his keys, wallet, coat, and scarf from various places in the room.

“Uh, okay. I’m - I’m not sure what to do right now. He demanded we go home, but maybe I shouldn't have listened to him. I just wasn’t sure what, what…” Her voice breaks and Thomas can barely breathe.

“What the fuck happened!?” He takes the steps two at a time, while trying to stuff everything into his pockets.

“Damiano basically rid every trance of Samuel’s scent from the apartment and his nest smells like someone else.” Thomas’ stomach dropped. For a second he struggled to speak.

“Wh – wha – but they’re not exclusive.”

“Yeah, but they had a fight and Damiano told him to just get out, that he didn’t want to bother with the dynamic anymore. Said he didn’t get anything out of it, and he’d lost interest.” Victoria paused, sighing, and her tone changed. “It was all very sudden, I think he just snapped, it's not like there was much romance there. So Sam got all his shit together, but he roughed Dami up in the process.”

“What the –” Thomas drops his phone on the seat, while trying to maneuver everything into the car. “What happened? What – is he okay?”

“Bruises, and his face is a little messed up. Almost got a hairline fracture on his ribs. I didn’t think Samuel was the type.” But I did. The tears burned in Thomas’ eyes as he drove out of the parking lot. He should have known when Damiano flinched, he should have known. He should have pressed the issue.

“I didn’t think Dami was the type to stay with an abuser. He’s so strong.” Even as he said the words he hated himself. What kind of victim blaming bullshit mentality was that? No matter how powerful he may be, Damiano was an omega first and foremost. Forced into a subservient role by society, even he was subject to abuse. Thomas let out a sob on the phone.

“Hey he’ll be healed in a couple weeks.”

“No he won’t,” Thomas says through gritted teeth. “You don’t just get over that.” Despite himself, he lets out another sob and almost hits someone’s bumper.

“Hey Thomas, hey –”

“I should have answered the phone.” The visual of Damiano, in a hospital bed, asking for him, wounded and scared, plagues him. Thomas had to grip the steering wheel tighter because his hands were shaking. “I failed him, I fucking failed him. He was hurt and I wasn’t there. I should have known.”

“Hey Tom, it's not like you ignored this on purpose.”

“He was asking for me, and I wasn’t fucking here.” His voice lilts upwards at the end and cracks. He has to slow down because of the tears. “It’s my fault.”

“Thomas, just get here. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Oh, but I did. 

“Okay, I’m gonna hang up, so I don’t crash.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon. Breathe.” Thomas’ tunnel vision narrows as he bounds up the stairs, wrestling with the door. The lock had been knocked loose and shoved back into place.

“Damiano!” he calls out, already knowing where he is. Victoria is crouched down next to the closet, where the door is cracked open. Her mascara has long since dried on her cheeks and she looks shaken. Thomas drops to the floor and sees Damiano curled in his nest. He’s using the corner that contains Thomas’ dirty clothes as a pillow. Dami was trying his best to self-soothe, and Thomas’ scent was his mechanism. Yet, he’d had to go to the hospital without him. Having a fork put through Tom’s hand would be less painful than this visual and the knowledge that accompanied it. 

“Cucciolo, hey, it’s me” he whispers, sliding the closet door open. Thomas crawls forward into Damiano’s nest, placing his limbs carefully.

“Tom, don’t -” disturb his nest. Victoria stops herself, as she places the new scent. Something so closely adjacent to Thomas’ that it couldn’t be anyone else.

“Thomas, what the fuck is that?” 

“I really, really need you to not ask questions,” he emphasizes. “Don’t tell anyone, please, I’ll explain later.” What was worse: his hybrid status being revealed or Damiano being hurt? Thomas rubs his back tentatively, getting ready to curl himself around Dami, who shifts and looks up. 

“Caro mio, I’m so sorry. I would give anything for it to have been me,” Thomas confesses. To take on Damiano’s pain so he didn’t have to bear it: there was nothing more appealing. 

“Tommy?” He sits up, reaching towards him, with grabby hands, showing he wants physical touch. One of Thomas’ hands grasps his thigh and goes around his waist. He maneuvers Damiano onto his lap, but the closet is too dark to see his face. Holding him is like a piece falling into place. It's easier to breathe, Thomas can serve and nurture his omega now. Damiano straddles him, back turned to Victoria, and tucks his head against Thomas' neck. Thomas would do anything for him at this moment. Take a bullet, donate an organ he couldn’t live without, give him the last sip of what in the desert, or simply lay down his life in the place of his omega’s.

“I’ve got him, Vic. You can go, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before.” As Thomas leans forward, Dami uses the opportunity to wrap his legs around him. 

“Are you sure?” He can see the toll today as taken on her. Knowing its weight, she is resistant to dump it entirely on someone else. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” This task should feel insurmountable, but Thomas is grounded by his role in Dami’s life. This was his intended place in the universe right now, to heal and love Damiano.

“This is exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he affirmed, rocking back and forth soothingly. Damiano would communicate when he was ready. Right now, he just needed to be held and made to feel safe. 

“Okay, if you say so.” Victoria got up and collected herself, pacing through the apartment to locate all her belongings. She poked her head in once more, and lowered her tone to a whisper. 

“How are you so calm?” she hissed, looking genuinely mystified. The answer to that question was more complex than he could explain in an hour, let alone a single sentence.Thomas kissed Dami’s temple a couple times as he thought.

“This feels more organic and affirming to me than anything else.” Victoria wanted to ask why so badly, but held off. “I’ll try explaining it to you another time. For now, I really need you to not tell anyone.”

“Not even Ethan?” Thomas was deciding how to answer this whan Damiano spoke up.

“No one,” he mumbled. Victoria seemed shocked to hear him verbalize at all, and nodded.

“No one,” she agreed. Thomas waited until she was out the door before scenting Dami. Tom tried to think loving, protective thoughts, not pure rage. That wouldn’t help his omega right now. Still, it was difficult not to let poison seep into his mind, fantasies about dismembering Samuel. Damiano moved his head to the other shoulder, allowing Thomas to scent both sides, who fretted over the idea of knotting. If Damiano asked, he wouldn’t be able to get hard given the situation. 

Thomas’ heightened emotions reminded him of Damiano’s ability to help him regulate. During his last rut, he'd worked himself up into such a cloud of anxiety that he was only half present. Dami’s pheromones responded and quelled Thomas’ panic. Lilac was the smell of tranquility. So, he attempted to do the same for his omega. First he tried to evoke feelings of calm within himself, and when that didn’t work he searched for memories of his calmest moments. Chamomile tea with his mother at eight years old while she read him a story. Laying under his grandfather's piano while he played The Nutcracker.

He checked in with Damiano, who’s breathing was still ragged and who had twisted the fabric of Thomas’ sweater into his fists, hanging on for dear life. What was calming to Damiano? They’d spent their young adult lives not being too close. Their connection couldn’t be too intense or too satiating, or too natural. Otherwise Thomas’ hybrid status could be discovered. 

Collectively, he’d spent hours watching Damiano when he couldn’t explore his feelings. Watched him sing, cry, argue, giggle, sleep, rant, sweat, and cum so hard he shook in Thomas’ arms. He’d watched him brush his teeth, restart his household’s router while cursing, dig through a pile of laundry for a sock, cook elaborate dishes then burn his hand and whine incessantly. He’d watched him wipe jizz from his abdomen, brace for the pain of a tattoo, lose his keys, fight with the clasp of a necklace, and struggle to open his favorite sauce because the seal on the jar was always so tight. 

He came to know Damiano so well that Thomas took him into those fantasies. He and Damiano crawled under the grand piano, lay on their backs and felt the music move in the floor. They climbed out his parents bedroom window and onto the roof, watching the stars and space shuttles blink while smoking weed. They sat on his bed and listened to Spanish guitar tapes until their eyes grew heavy. They took a freezing cold walk on a coastal beach in the middle of winter, frigid wind biting at their cheeks.

Thomas took him into his earliest memory of serenity: a yellow comforter and soft lighting. It could have been a blanket fort or his parents bed, or the bottom of a linen closet. It was abstract, but something as deep in a person's psyche is bound to be. He took Damiano there, where it was warm, insolated, snug, and smelled of lavender drying sheets. Thomas kept him there, right next to his heart. As he held him, Thomas could feel that Damiano’s body had gone quiet, finally soothed.

It wasn’t without effort, however. Emulating calm for Damiano evoked the same mental exhaustion as doing calculus. It took all Thomas’ focus to hold steady, but it was worth it because Dami felt decent enough to scent him back. He started shifting in Thomas’ arms, no longer hunkered down for survival. Damiano sat up, forehead and nose pressed to his alpha’s, whose eyes were screwed shut in concentration.

“I’m okay.” His voice came out broken, Dami hadn’t spoken for hours between the tears. Thomas took this as permission to drop the mirage, and did so with a gasp, like breaking through the surface of water.

“That was so beautiful, thank you,” he cooed, a hand sneaking up the base of Thomas’ skull and into his hair. “How did you do that?”

“I just knew that you needed it, so I did. I’m not really sure where it came from,” he confesses. Even with his face shrouded in shadow, Thomas can see the wonder in Damiano's features. In those same features he searches for the damage that Samuel’s fist caused. Thomas must look sick with guilt, an expression so incongruous with Damiano’s affectionate admiration. Dami’s face falls into a scowl, realizing his former mate is soiling this moment as well.

“Thomas can we please just forget about this? My life isn’t ruined because I got punched one time. Remember how I used to wrestle with other kids when I was younger. I’m fine, I promise.” Damiano seems to actually believe the excuses he placates Thomas with.

“Get into the light,” Thomas orders in a monotone, his mouth clenched into a straight line and pursed in repressed anger.

“What?”

“Let me see you in the light, I want to see your face.” Damiano makes a noise of dissent as Thomas throws open the closet door and partially disentangles himself to reach the light switch. When he turns back to his omega it's very clear that he was hit more than once. Damiano has a swollen cheek, a cut right above his temple, and a bruise on his swollen jaw. He winces, not in pain but in the knowledge of what Thomas is currently looking at.

“Okay, one fight, but I’m still fine. Just ignore the bruises.”

“Ignore the bruises?” Thomas seethes. “You’re lying to me.” He didn’t want to direct any negativity towards Damiano, but out of all the situations he’d anticipated outright denial was not one of them.

“Everything’s fucking fine! I’m not lying to you,” he insists.

“Pull up your shirt,” Thomas deadpans. 

“What does –”

“If everything was fine the security force wouldn’t have shown up. The lock wouldn’t be half torn off the door. Vic wouldn’t have taken you to the hospital. So show me your ribs, now.” 

“I don’t have to prove anything to you!” Damiano shouts, pulling as far away from Thomas as possible while still remaining seated on his lap. 

“I know that, cucciolo! Because this is my fault, I did this!”

“Thomas, in what world –”

“You flinched, okay? You flinched that first morning when we were mating on the bedroom floor. And afterwards you didn’t seem to remember so a part of me didn’t want to deal with it because I couldn’t fathom existing in a world where you were anything less than cherished. It’s not a fight, Damiano, it's abuse! I know it happened more than once so if you’re honest with anyone let it be me.” Thomas was out of breath by his last word. The wave of guilt that stifled him settled in the pit of Tom’s stomach. This was not how he wanted to deal with this. He wanted to give a perfectly calibrated and reassuring reaction, where he held complete control over his emotions. Instead, he’s trying not to cry.

“Damiano, please forgive me,” he begs. 

“You won't get it, because,” he sighs, not in anger, but in trepidation. “Because you’re not like the – because you’re a hybrid. You don’t have normal, or, I mean typical heats with alphas. You don’t understand how much control hormones have. Most omegas get roughed up once or twice in the course of their lifetimes while mating. It happens, because occasionally, certain alphas take things too far, use omegan biology to twist shit up.” Thomas thinks back to Victoria’s original reaction to finding Damiano and the language she used. 

“This can’t be normal,” he insists, pulling Damiano closer. He scoots up on Thomas’ lap so their abdomens are pressed together, but avoids eye contact.

“This was the first time outside of heat that Samuel’s…this. He had an unfair advantage, hormonally. He’s supposed to go into rut pretty soon. And obviously I…” just went through an early heat with you. Damiano trails off, picking at his black nail polish, almost timid. 

“So he roughed you up,” Thomas winces at his use of language, but outright calling it abuse may be too intimidating for Damiano right now. “When you were both hormonal?” Dami almost nods, but not quite.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be pushing the issue. We don’t have to talk about it right now, cucciolo.”

“You have to promise to still like me after I tell you this.” The pain in Damiano’s face is tenfold of what Thomas has encountered before. What could he say that would nullify Thomas’ affection so immediately? It wasn’t possible.

“Cucciolo, after all these years, you have to know that I could never just –”

“Promise me,” Damiano insists. At a loss, Thomas simply agrees.

“Okay, I promise.” Now that Damiano finally has permission to say whatever he needs to, the words catch in his throat. Perfect, peaceful Thomas would never see him the same again. How could he sacrifice that so casually?

“I – I, um,” he sighs in hesitation. Damiano hugs Thomas tightly, pressing his face into Tom’s neck as he speaks, too scared to meet his eyes. Without question, Tom holds Dami back, a soothing hand stroking his skin. His omega winced, feeling undeserving of such tenderness. 

“We would fight, sometimes. Physically, I mean.” 

“When you were both hormonal?” Dami nods his head. Seeking to understand, Thomas pulls back so he can read his omega’s face.

“The first time, I – god this is so fucked up,” he whimpers, hiding his trembling mouth behind a trembling hand. “The very first time, part of me liked it, the intensity. I never told him, but I thought Sam could sense it, which is why he did it again the next month.”

“So he’s been abusing you for a while?”

“It doesn’t really count though, because I started fighting back. Plus it wasn’t enough to leave a mark. I mean, until now. He’s never been this rough before.” Thomas nodded, and watching him attempt to process the information was more painful than the rest of it to Damiano. Sweet, non-violent Thomas, realizing he was with the type of person that answered aggression with aggression, instead of terminating the relationship altogether. 

“Did you ever ask him not to, um –”

“Well, yeah of course. I didn’t just let him walk all over me, but maybe that would have been better. If I wasn’t going to leave at least I shouldn’t have stooped to his level.” Maybe then I’d still deserve you. That was the thought that always echoed in Dami’s mind: what would Thomas think of this? Would Thomas still desire his omega if he knew what kind of person Damiano was? 

“How the fuck would not defending yourself be better?” 

“I should have just left.”

“And there shouldn’t be institutionalized power dynamics between alphas and omegas that are practiced in our society above all reason. There shouldn’t be a biological advantage that trumps all personal autonomy.” There's a fierceness in Thomas’ eyes that Damiano expected, but didn’t anticipate being directed elsewhere. 

“So you don’t think I’m a monster?” 

“What the fuck!?” Thomas answers, in genuine shock. Damiano bursts into tears and catapults himself back into his alpha’s arms, far more relieved than he is saddened. It became immediately apparent that this is what Dami needed, to ugly sob in Tom’s embrace until the impulse passed.

“Caro mio, I would never judge you for this. I can appreciate the complexity of the situation. cucciolo,” he pledges. Damiano tries to take a breath, but it gets caught in his throat.

“I didn’t want you to think I was,” sob “like, into violence, or” sob “or something.” Sob. “Because you’re – you’re” sob.  

“Amore, we’ve had sex before. Samuel isn’t the only one that knows what turns you on.” From the way his breathing pauses, it seems to be the first time Damiano has considered this. “In fact, I’d like to argue that I’m far more qualified to pass judgment on your sexuality and general character. Seeing as we’ve been hooking up since I was 16, and friends a year beforehand.” Thomas tries to coax Dami from where his face is pressed into his mate’s neck to no avail. He’s determined not to budge from his safe place, and clings incessantly. 

“Caro mio, I think you’ve internalized a lot of bullshit from Sam because he was your mate.” Dami doesn’t respond, his mind too muddled by manipulation and ego to decipher its thoughts. “For example, we’ve been intimate for twice as long as you’ve known Samuel, but you’re so fearful that I’ll spontaneously share his views that you’re shaking. Bello, please stop shaking,” he pleads, voice pained. 

Thomas never expected to see Damiano so broken down and gaslighted by another person. His strength seemed unmatched, but no one was immune to the societal repercussions, mental programming, and pheromonal manipulation that resulted from being born omega. In at least that aspect, Thomas’ hybridism had spared him. 

“I don’t think you’re a violent person. There’s no evidence to support it. We both know your tendency to be mouthy has nothing to do with a desire to hurt me.”

“Of fucking course not,” Damino bites, punctuating his words with a pathetic sniffle.

“Mhm,” Tom agrees, soothingly. “I think you can be highly defensive and occasionally combative. However, I also know you’re self aware and this doesn’t come as a surprise to you.” Dami nodded his head, kissing Thomas’ scent gland, trying to gently elicit some light excretions that he could lap up with his tongue for comfort. The sensation startled Thomas and he jumped.

“Sorry,” Damiano muttered, adjusting his arms to make his hold more comfortable and less desperate. Secretly, Tom loved that his mate looked to his body for comfort. If the consequences hadn’t been negative for Dami, he also would have loved the fact that he rid his shared apartment of all other pheromones. It indicated an extremely intense attraction that Thomas could grow to share. Of course, he was still ignorant to the extent of Damiano’s emotions, for his own protection. 

“I know you’re right,” he suddenly confided. “You just get so wrapped up in it and everyone sort of says it's normal. It’s really hard to separate.”

“Can you name a single time you’ve been violent towards me? In any way?” Damiano takes a deep breath and considers for only a moment before decisively shaking his head.

“Mm-mm.” 

“Exactly, I’d even venture that you’ve most agreeable around me.”

“Well you’re really easy to get along with,” he confesses.

“Actually we’re just really compatible.” Damiano likes his comment so very much. He smiles wide, even nips at his alpha’s scent gland. He’d had so many fantasies about sharing a moment like this with Tom, yeared for it painfully for the last six years. Now that it was here, he struggled, but was forced to admit to himself that every alpha up until now was a placeholder. Damiano knew he couldn’t have Thomas, because it wasn’t safe, and he would never endanger him like that. In fact, he cared for Thomas so deeply that when the urge surfaced he was awash in self loathing. What triumphed was a primal need to protect and shelter him, because he was made vulnerable by Dami’s knowledge.

“So now that we’ve established that nothing Samuel says can be trusted because he’s obviously a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, I agree on that one.” Damiano is picking at his nail polish again instead of meeting Thomas' eyes. He feels suddenly foolish, having built up this confession in his head to something catastrophic, but Thomas is holding him the same way he was 10 minutes ago. There’s a special kind of nausea that settles in the stomach of a person when they realize they’ve been manipulated. Damiano had fancied himself too smart to be the victim of Samuel’s mind games. Yet, his entire world view was warped and his perception of his relationships poisoned.

“I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“You’re one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met.”

“I was so sure that you’d reject me. I don’t know how he got in my head like that, we didn’t even talk about you that much,” Damiano marveled, rubbing his face roughly. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so much clarity he wanted to seek. Yet the knee-jerk reaction every time Damiano opened his mouth was to question if Thomas would want him after he spoke. What was there even to say that would be so divisive? Damiano knew that it was irrational, yet the fear was so deeply ingrained that it overpowered logic.

Damiano had craved being Thomas’ boyfriend and mate for so long. To go through heat with Thomas, to have Thomas run to his side, speak his defense. They’d finally agreed that their relationship was inevitable. There was no point in resisting and making themselves miserable. Now, Damiano was free from prior obligations, he was in his chosen alpha’s arms, cherished by Thomas. And yet, part of him yearned for how things used to be, despite the past having no merits. Part of truly having Thomas was the ability to truly lose him. 

When all previous relationships and partnerships had ended, he would cry over connection or even the love that was lost. Then Dami would go to Thomas’ to mourn, drink, receive comfort, eat, laugh, fuck, and cuddle. He’d mate with Thomas during his next rut, which essentially felt like pressing the reset button. If things with Thomas ended, he could lose him, and maybe even their shared friends. Damiano wasn’t a reflective person, but he was sure he wouldn’t survive that. There was nothing to survive for, an emotion so intense that he feared verbalizing it would spook Tom.

“Cucciolo look at me.” He hooked a finger under Dami’s chin, coaxing him to raise his gaze. “The most effective thing an abuser can do is isolate. It’s hard to leave someone if you feel they’re all you have. I’m going to keep reminding you that you have me and you will always have me, no matter what.”

“I know that,” Damiano answers automatically. Tom is silent for a moment, observative.

“Damia, I don’t think you do,” he says slowly, tone cautious. “If you were to become a monster right now, I would devote years trying to get you back, just based on who you’ve been in my life so far. You are endlessly lovable to me.” Endlessly lovable. No one had ever called him that, not dotting romantic prospects with the gift of language, not his wonderful parents. It was more powerful than saying you can do no wrong. Endlessly lovable means you can do wrong, but I will still want you always. 

“If you ever have a question, just ask, caro mio. Deconstructing shit like this takes time.” He tucks Dami’s hair behind his ears. After weeks of not cutting it, the length was nearing his shoulders, and that's what Tom tried to focus on, not the swelling and discoloration. 

“Hopefully not too much time. I didn’t even like the fucker that much,” Dami muttered darkly. Unsure of how to segway, Thomas takes a deep breath and keeps talking.

“I think we also need to face the reality that Samuel suspected, which means others probably do as well. Maybe we’re not as sneaky as we thought.” Thomas tries to say the words lightly, to cloak his panic at being outed.

“I swear to you, I didn’t say anything we didn’t agree on. I promise I am so careful, Tommy. I tried to never mention you, I –”

“I know.” Damiano speaks with such desperate intensity, but Thomas needs no additional affirmations. “But Samuel wouldn’t have spent so long turning you against a casual hookup, would he? He also failed pretty epically.” Dami looks down at the mess of intertwined limbs sat on their dirty sheets and snorts a laugh, then keeps laughing. Not because it's particularly funny, but because it feels good not to be crying. It feels even better to be wrapped around his mate in the middle of his nest and to have some body awareness returning.  

“I’m sorry,” he chortles, “I’m like half lucid right now.” Nothing could compel Thomas to laugh, but seeing a break in the tension at least prompts a genuine smile. It only sort of looked like a grimace. 

“What were the doctor's directions?”

“Rest, ice, disinfectant twice daily. I can pick up some of that Tachyangiogenisis ointment from the pharmacy if I want to speed it up.” 

“What about referrals?”

“For what?” 

“Domestic abuse recovery?” Damiano huffs in aggravation. “I work in the alternative pediatric psychiatric therapies, but I’m sure that I could help you find someone –”

“I don’t need anyone in APPT, Thomas. Hitting a couple keys on a piano isn’t going to change what happened.” Thomas continues on, unaffected, as though Damiano hadn’t just insulted his entire field of treatment.

“I’m sure I could help you find someone in an appropriate medical sector if it feels too overwhelming right now,” he finished. “Sensory overwhelm is a totally normal reaction and I want to help in every capacity I can.” Damiano sighs and bites his cheek in shame.

“That was a really dickish thing to say, Thomas. I didn’t mean it at all.”

“I know.” Children who lacked verbal ability due to developmental variation or lacked the language to describe a traumatic situation were often Thomas’ clients. Piano, usually, but often other instruments, allowed them to describe their emotions in a detailed, precise fashion, where there was no external pressure. What made the session therapeutic was largely Tom’s patience and unequivocal kindness. He was born with a wonderful temperament, and just his two syllable response was a reminder of this. Damiano loathed himself for lashing out.

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean it! I don’t think that at all. I really don’t, you’re so perfect for your job and all those families are lucky to have you.”

“Dami –”

“I mean you devote your life to helping people, what's more admirable than that? And I know the science is sound, I do. I’m not some uneducated skeptic that shits on people of better character and moral fiber. I’m not. I’m fucking not! I’m just really, really sorry –”

“Shh, it's okay.” Damiano has Thomas’ shirt gripped in handfuls of fabric again, pulling it taut to bring Tom close in this moment of desperation. His eyes are panicked and their foreheads are pressed together. 

“I’m sorry and I’ll go to therapy if you think it’s right. I trust you.” Dami looks into Tom’s eyes and sees such softness. He rocks back and forth, shushing him, and running a hand slowly up and down his back, such a juxtaposition to Damiano’s thundering heart rate. 

“I don’t know why I said that or why I can’t just shut up.”

“Because you’re totally deregulated and need the help of your mate to stabilize.” Damiano falls against him once again. When he sucks on Thomas’ scent gland, Tom lets him. He tries not to flinch from sensitivity. Having gone practically untouched here his whole life, the sensation took some adapting to. 

“I’m here, cucciolo. Give me the reins for a couple days.” Dami nodded, his nervous system finally taking a step below absolute terror survival mode. 

“You need to eat and sleep.”

“Not here. There will be an officer outside the building until they’ve arrested him, but I hate the smell.” The word is spoken with intense disgust. “Can’t we just go to your apartment?” Where everything will smell perfect and I’ll be surrounded by impeccable nesting materials.

“If Samuel’s figured it out, and remembers where I live, my place isn’t safe either.”

“Vic’s?” 

“No. I’ll call my mom,” he sighs. Dami moves off his lap so Thomas can get his phone from his pants.

“I can’t compromise her safety too! I’ve already put you in danger,” he sniffles, face distressed.

“You are not doing anything. My mother put herself in danger 21 plus years ago when she decided not to treat my Primary Gender Dysmorphia. She has spent my life making me internalize that fact. So no, you are doing nothing.” It was only then that Damiano understood the strength of not only his mate, but his blood line. Thomas had grown up knowing that someday his identity would be discovered, and he would be persecuted, but he lived anyway. His mother, a woman only a few years older than Damiano was now, willingly put the rest of her life in danger to preserve her child's autonomy. She made her entire life into an act of protest. There is no strength like being a warrior with unconditional, soul-deep kindness in place of a bloodied sword. With no shield, only the best of intentions and a gentle hand. The only thing more difficult than being hardened, is to be soft, strengthen unchanged.

“Hey, mom, Yeah, I’m good, I was just wondering if I could come pick a couple things up? Yeah I left my blue sweater there last time and I need two pairs of socks. Mhm, okay, yeah we’ll stay for dinner. Love you, bye.” Immediately Thomas turns to Damiano. “I need you to wear a blue sweater under your clothes for my mother’s sake.”

“Yeah, of course!” he enthusiastically agreed, happy to be able to do something. “But, um, why?”

“Because I’ll carry it on the way back. If I get detained it won’t look like we were using code.” 

“Nothing is going to happen to you!” he cries out.

“We don’t know how much Samuels pierced together, or how much he’ll say when they find him. Damiano you need to know something.” He cups his omega’s face between his large hands and holds Dami’s gaze with a burning intensity. “No matter what happens, I chose this. The consequences are worth it. It is not your fault.”

“This can’t be happening,” he whimpers, eyes welling up again. This is my life. To someone who’d lived in normalcy, the amount of risk involved in just existing semi-authentically for Thomas was totally overwhelming. He searched for the right words, and found nothing but a whirlpool of panic in his mind. So instead of speaking, he kisses Damiano, just a brush of lips, then up the bridge of his nose to his forehead. For a minute they just breath each other in, synching each inhale and exhale.

“It’s time to go.”

Notes: I rarely write stuff this heavy, which is why I originally was only going to post The Hybrid on AO3 since that place is a cesspool (affectionate). But having different fics on different platforms felt ridiculous so here it is. Message me to be removed from this fics taglist.

-XOXO Eden

taglist: @blackberryblossom @bobfood @butkutee @bohemianrainbow @cuzimitaliano @daisy0gf @elvirabelle @gr8rainbowpunk @harryssshouseee @hiraetheral @iamtashaquinn @ilwiwbysmv @immrbrightsideeee @kammerstx @l0standn0tf0und @little-moonbeam-666 @lizzylynch1 @maneslut @minnietmouse @mortyandem @obiw4n @que--sera--sera @slavicgoddess13 @stardustingold @teenyweenynightghost @thegeminisgirl @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @bieberhoodforever

@ursulalurks bestie I do not know wtf is going on, but I still can't tag you. All I can recommend is contacting Tumblr Help, sorry. <3

[inavagrant-a]

@snowtombedstar said:

❝ here, lean on me. ❞

The war has been waging for days now, Tetsuya was never good at keeping track of time, because time was a concept that never applied to him, but it applied to everybody else around him. However, in this specific context even he has to admit there's something unsettling about it. That he could not keep track. The end of this ark's cycle as they knew it started in silence, blue skies, and a sunny day. Something that could only be described as a hollow eye opened in the sky, ripping the thin veil of a fake sky Teyvat had, and some divine being known as the Sustainer of the Heavenly Principles came out from it. That blue sky did remain blue, but its foundation began to crack around that one eye, that one Goddess who looked down on every sign of life in Teyvat like they were a famine, a plague upon this ark, and that she was going to cure it. However that would have been. Truth be told Tetsuya wasn't there when it happened, it happened in a nation he wasn't present in, but if he had to guess and make an educated guess she probably descended upon Snezhnaya first, because of... well, that's ancient history now, he supposes that doesn't matter anymore. Not with how things are now. Past grievances what are those now anyway? Do they really matter anymore? Even he can acknowledge that they do not.

That blue sky is no longer blue, it bleeds red, the silence that once settled dust is no longer there, in its place clashing of steel and metal, screams of agony, screams of defiance, corpse after corpse left in its wake. The sustainer did not come alone, having apparently decided that not one sole nation needed to be cleansed, but all of them for going against whatever twisted laws those have applied to these lands. One can no longer tell the difference between what nation was what anymore, why just a day ago Tetsuya heard that Dragonspine completely crumbled, its proud mountain destroyed by the might of those who see them from above. Naturally there were many casualties and given that the war has yet to conclude all of those casualties stay lay buried under the once proud mountain, unable to be given their proper rest. Such is life, he learned that lesson so long ago. One life might end but life goes on nevertheless. It is day four of this war and aside from red skies, there are now divine nails littered above them, as far as the eye can see, waiting for their order to descend upon these crumbling lands and seal their fate with their disgusting divinity. Surely, he wasn't the only one who noticed them, Tetsuya knows and has heard all too well of what those things do. What they're capable of. And, if that's the case, then shouldn't that already seal the deal for them all? That it's over, it's done, they can put down their weapons, they lost... and yet still he strives forward and so does everybody else it seems.

Tetsuya is smart, he always has been, so when he knows a fight is a losing fight then its best not to fight it, its time to accept the fate that awaited at the end of the loss and yet... he fights. Why do I fight? He's been asking himself this question for more than a day he knows. Why does he fight? Death does not scare him, that's not it, the fear of death is not the reason why he's fighting he knows. It's something else, something else he can not put into words nor vaguely comprehend.

His angry wind gales rip through the divine beasts that thought themselves bold to surround him until they all lay to shreds around him. Tetsuya's body is no longer the proud fair fortress it always was. His body is littered with cracks that his self-healing can not heal properly anymore, an eye threatening to pop out right out of its socket due to such a thing and no matter how much he tries to place it in a firm standing within said socket it still tries to pop out with the slightest of stressed movements. He is not as durable anymore and pain is a companion he has gotten very familiar with now. He looks like a porcelain doll who's vessel is going to cave it at any second now, at any further strikes. From those web of cracks, newly spilled blood and dry cake them and he can quite honestly not be bothered by them. How he looks no longer matters, but what a sight he is. Speaking of sight... his vision has not been up to par for some time now for obvious reasons. He would laugh if he didn't know that's going to cost him a lot of effort to even accomplish. What does he have to lose? He has nothing. Why do his feet carry him onward, why does he keep moving, when he knows already?

There's no need to fight a losing fight, there's no need to fight of losing fight, there's no need to fight a losing fight, there's no need to fight a losing fight-.

(Fight... Fight!)

Even if he continues to trek forward, the way his vision blurs tells him that he has not much left in him. He's running out of steam for fighting night and day against something much more powerful than he is, not just for himself, but for those who could not fight for themselves as well. The bleeding path ahead blurs to the point where it disorientates him and his head buzzes in a manner that is attempting to make sense of that which he's clearly failing to be able to. Even if he is to trip his legs do not cease, they do not listen to what he understands as reason. He's shutting down and he's still moving forward like he's desperate to see something, like there is something he must see before he finally gets this rest he's been oh so sore for, so long overdue now. What do I want to see? He wonders, fading along with that thought in mind, fully expecting to meet a crashing end. Who knows, maybe the impact will finally get him to break completely. Shatter on the very ground as unbecoming as that may be, perhaps it's what he deserves. Total destruction of what he once was, what he is, and what he could have been. Never too homesick one over the other. And yet that fateful ending he's already playing in his head never comes, his fading vision blurring back into some semblance of sight, though not perfect still. He can not tell objects or things apart, they're all muddled together. A voice echoes in the chambers of one of his ears, one he has not heard in such a long time and in his current state he fails to recognize who it is that has caught him, who's preventing his damning fall.

"... Tem." He does not ask, he states. His eyes look onward with an absence of thought, being able to understand that he's resting on her shoulder. What is she doing here? Is she fighting as well? That's so unlike her if that's the case. "You need to go," he says slowly, tired even, his words drag and the volume in which he speaks is on the quieter side. He attempts to move away yet his body will not listen, it clings to this small and fleeting moment of rest in such a selfish fashion that even he can not get it to listen to him anymore. Why does he persist so? In the distance a loud rumble, something impacts their crying earth, which can only mean that the divine nails are starting to descend upon the lands, intending to seal it away as it has many a times in the past. "Tem, you need to go." Go where exactly? Where is there to go anyway? Nowhere is safe, that much is true, that much he knows, but he wants her to go, he wants her to leave. Not so much to spare himself from being seen this way, but because if there is a small chance that she can live a while longer and spare himself witnessing another loss then that would be better. Is that selfish of him? Probably...