#so i am. smiling and making small talk while migraine auras wash out my vision and i try not to visibly dry heave

[milkweedman]

ah, the ever-more-frequent Urge To Explode My Brain from unending migraines. a migraine that just lasts the day already sucks so bad. whole day is gone in a blur of pain and misery, right ? a migraine that lasts multiple days is sort of like if hell was real and you were in it. time has no meaning, only pain, etc.

months of migraines... with no break or end or effective treatment and also you still have to work and behave like a normal person because you cannot lie in bed for months not paying rent. well id describe it you but ive fucking lost the plot. its gone on so long and its so bad that when the migraine ISN'T at its peaking on the pain scale and making me feel like if i was hit by a truck that would be an improvement, i start to feel like my head is a vestigial organ that has been removed. cant access sensation in my head and it feels literally disconnected from my body. meanwhile the pain is still there (along with the brain fog, vertigo, nausea, etc) but it feels like its happening to somebody else.

[high5nerd]

Healer

This is one of my firsts on archiveofourown.org after a long writers block! I can’t recall if this one was a commission, but it’s a Cavity ship!

This wasn’t the first time he found himself surrounded by death once he closed his eyes. Or did he just open them? Everything felt cold, and in some parts of his body, it felt like seething fire. Liquid fire. What’s on his hands?

A dark hand raised to his face, centimeters from his nose. It was sluiced in red. Crimson red. His own red. God, the pain...Stars Above, it hurt so much.

Above him, he saw nothing but a burning sky, swathed in an aura of dusky purple and the bloody rose of the sunset beyond. Just barely, he could make out the slivers of the two moons above him, a sign of hope that he was holding onto by strings of fate. How was he even still alive? The battle should have finished him, he knew when he rode into it with his battalion that the odds weren’t in their favor. The dream pirates have swallowed the entire constellation, there was no chance that he would lead his troops to victory against them.

Then again, one must always obey the orders of the king and queen of comets.

His teeth felt brittle as he grimaced against the throbbing that took over his brain. Alright, now he was feeling pain. Sitting up proved difficult, but he fought against the white hot agony to look around him. He had to know if there were other survivors. Anyone to give him hope that they won, for when he was struck off his horse, he fell unconscious and hadn’t been aware of the outcome as the battle raged on. Even the banner men with their flagged staffs would be enough proof of hope that they will return home victorious, that the galaxy was once saved from further pestilence of the dream pirates.

Nobody rose with him. He felt his mouth drop and a gust of air flood his lungs, ripping his raw throat. He wished he felt the hot tears spring in his eyes, but he only felt the dried blood against his cheeks harden as he winced more at the growing pain in his stomach.

His vision cleared more once the blurriness passed along with his migraine subsiding to a dull throbbing. Now he could look out to the sea of lifeless beings with more clarity. Some looked peaceful, helped by those who escaped or defeated the foe and had enough sympathy for the fallen to shut their eyes and say a prayer to the stars above. Others died in the midst of pain, their eyes open, barren, and white. Their mouths open mid yell of pain, filling with more red and staining their teeth like oil paint on pearl.

No...No. I failed. My men. My friends...I failed them. His mind spiraled as he looked around him, his hope quickly becoming demolished.

What have I done.

What have you done? You killed them. You killed them all.

They trusted you, and you got them all killed.

You monster.

Pitch.

Pitch!

“Pitch!”

That was a voice, not a memory. His eyes snapped open, and through the haze of the remaining nightmare, he saw a flutter of color and then magenta eyes filled with worry hover above him like an angel sent from the creator to take pity on him. But his heart still raced, his mind still transported in the realm of the nightmare that was once a fresh wound and a memory. He couldn’t help but act on instinct, the man of battle still fresh in his breath.

Toothiana yelped and took in a breath of air as she was grabbed from the air and flipped onto her back, with his hand around her throat as he sat on her abdomen, a look of bloodthirsty mourning on his face.

“Pitch, it’s just me. Please...it’s okay.”

Tooth. Toothiana. What is she doing here?

The look of revenge swiftly fled from his face, and a new look of horror spread across his face as he quickly retracted from her as if singed. She sat up, looking at him with a new expression he would like to label as pity, but something in his shrunken heart told him it wasn’t that at all. A new voice that didn’t hurt him, that didn’t continuously open old wounds over and over as punishment.

She’s empathetic. She knows you’re in pain.

Pathetic. Get her out of here.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped lowly, not looking at her as he dressed himself. He felt a twinge of shame for climbing onto her like that in just his briefs.

He was met with silence for a moment before he heard the bed linens shuffle. A flutter of wings, and then a soft landing and a gentle hand on his back. He flinched. He’d rather feel angry nails against his spine than something so comforting. You don’t deserve it.

“An old proverb that a lot of the humans say is, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. We’re worried about you.” she said, her voice like satin. No hint of lying detected.

He scoffed and glared at her, “Who the hell is ‘we’?” he turned back and flared his robe out for a final act of inner torment before turning to the majestic fairy. He felt that stirring come back again at seeing that little pout she was making right at that moment, then grew angry at himself for feeling it. Ever since a few months ago…

She sighed, looking to the towering pillar across from them. “Fine. I am. You know I’m soft like that.”

He grunted, fixing his robe more but refused to fasten it, trying to not look at her and drink in her fae-like aura, “Not completely. A year ago you proved that by a nasty punch. Five months ago you proved against that once more. I still have scratches on my back from-”

“Anyway,” Tooth’s voice dripped with warning.

Ooh, he loved teasing her. As much as he hated himself for feeling an attraction for someone like her, or even anyone at all, he had to take mirth out of riling her up. It usually leads to good and distracting outcomes. He made no effort to hide his smirk, a look that once irritated Toothiana enough to fluff her feathers.

“I didn’t just come here to...wake you from your troubles.”

“Business, I take it.” he muttered, striding out of the room. He didn’t care if she followed. She usually never does. He wanted to milk out what he could from her visit as much as he can. He hated it when she left, and he hated that he felt that way at being alone now.

“Although the Guardians have recollected all the teeth you’ve stolen, there’s one you haven’t yet returned. I have a slot missing in Russia, you know. I would have suspected of North using it for gifting inspiration from their memories but he has no idea where-”

Pitch swirled his fingers, the sand dancing around his digits until out formed the canister of teeth, glittering in the filtered light that barely made it down to the depths they walked in. He heard Tooth huff in irritation, and a smirk once more graced his fine features.

Took her long enough to notice.

Anything to keep her here longer.

“Out of all the times to be immature,” she leapt into the air to grab it, but he was quicker. His hand retracted from over his shoulder to his other hand and out far away from her reach. Toothiana found herself draped over his shoulder, giving him a perfect view of her curves from a slight turn of his chin.

He grinned, “This oddly feels familiar.”

“Grrh!”

The canister flew up, twirled, and disappeared in nightmare sand just as she reached to his other hand, a look of irritated determination on her face. He smiled, closing his eyes in modesty as he felt the slight ruffle of baby feathers from her upper chest against the tip of his nose. She always smelled of spring water, roses and mint. Such a good mix of smells for a tiny, pretty little thing.

She froze, realizing her position.

“Again, familiar. Is this becoming a habit, my dear?” he teased.

She leaned back and glared at him. That goddamn mouth of his. She didn’t know if she was thinking that in annoyance or slight attraction at seeing his smirk and his golden, heated eyes looking up at her with mirth and a crackling fire she wanted to spill her own flames onto. A prickling heat sensation came over her cheeks when she realized she was staring at his mouth for too long, remembering the darker things his mouth can do that wasn’t just talking and taunting.

Growling, she grabbed his face and pulled him towards her, mashing her mouth with his. She felt him stiffen before reluctantly melting into it. It both surprised them that Tooth was the one who acted first and Pitch was all talk and actually reserved once Tooth makes the first move.

Then again, it doesn’t take him long enough to react as animalistic as her either.

Kids these days call this fuckmates, you know.

Shut up.

The canister reappeared and fell, and because the king of nightmares was too...preoccupied with trying to win at the war Tooth started, she caught it with dexterity, and pulled away with a triumphant look on her face.

His own expression soured. “Good for you. You can leave now.”

He tried pulling away, but was surprised by the gentle tug of resistance from her, and looked at her with expectancy as she gently fluttered to stand on the cold ground. She gently smiled at him, touching his face with affection.

Wait. Affection? What is this? What is she doing?

“I was thinking of staying a while, if you don’t mind.” she offered, clearly hinting at what he hoped for for months.

Well, shit. Now we’re really fucked.

He grunted and gruffly looked away from her as if in annoyance, but she caught the darkening on his cheeks enough to gloat about it with a prideful smile.

“I suppose you could….if you’ve got the time,” he looked back at her, ready to test the waters, “I thought you and I strictly made this thing between us an...informality?”

She smiled, cradling the tooth canister to her chest as she guided him back to the room they left a few moments ago.

“I’m ready to make it formal, no matter what others think.”

The calmness that washed over him, the promising smile on her face made all nightmares from previous nights wash away. He felt a genuine but small smile creep against his mouth, and it caused her to brighten.

She knew of the nightmare that constantly plagued him. It didn’t take Toothiana long to dig it out of him over time, but for once, the cruel voices that plagued him through it were finally silenced, if anything for the fleeting moments that she was there for him, and with him. She was his healer, and he was her glimmer of hope. Perhaps now he’d awaken from a dream where he rises among a battlement of victorious souls, along with a feeling of completion now that she’s finally made herself known to him.

Yes, he can endure this. Just for her. And even, for him as well.