#tears mean nothing to me i can still hear the screams of grief pinging around in my head like its some sort of frictionless room

[howmanyholesinswisscheese]

im not sure why i put myself through this. kill me swiftly and painlessly its the least i deserve.

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 6: Conceal.

The MC has their true feelings exposed.

[This chapter contains scenes depicting mental breakdowns, anxiety/panic attacks and suicidal thoughts, so please read at your own risk. And thank you for reading, stay safe <3]

You heard the front door click open and a group of voices rushing in from the entrance. You stood still, panicked and frozen- your mind completely blank. You picked up your bags and ran out of your room and to the only place you knew you could go.

You sprinted across the hallway. It was hard to run with the bags in your hands, and you couldn’t help but drop a few things.

You stopped in front of the dollhouse and remembered the time when you and Beel looked for Luke in there after he disappeared inside of the closet.

You noticed the riddle engraved in the small walls of the dollhouse, written in the language of angels, which Beel translated for you.

When the morning star dwelt in the heavens, its light shone down upon this one, sparkling brilliantly, the eighth of the eight.

Your fingers brushed the wood, an aura of melancholy radiating from the slightest touch.

”The morning star was another name for Lucifer,” you spoke out loud, “And the eighth child of the eight was Lilith.”

A blinding, white light engulfed you and you felt as though you were floating, suspended in midair. Everything ceased to exist for a moment, and you held your breath, keeping your eyes shut.

At last, a hard floor emerged from beneath you and your feet landed upon it. You opened your eyes to find yourself in Lilith’s room.

All the furniture was still draped in white, bland sheets that took away the beauty of this place. It held melancholy, pain and grief, yet you could sense the memories that once made this place so special. It almost made you feel bad to be breaking into it.

You let go of your bags and sat down, pulling your knees up to your chest and letting yourself rest for what felt like eternity. God, you were exhausted.

You heard a ping! from your phone and picked it up, seeing a few texts from Beel. You hesitated for a few seconds, but opened up the app anyways. It’s not as though he could find you just by reading his texts, right?

Beel

Hey, MC.

I know a lot has happened these past few months and you probably don’t want to talk to me, but..

Please, just hear me out, okay? If I can’t talk to you physically, this is the second best I can do.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you, MC. I know that I’ve been absolutely selfish for not being able to tell how you’ve been feeling for however long it’s been going on, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you before it escalated, I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings.

I don’t want to make this too long, so I’ll try and keep it short. MC, I only want to help you- we all do. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’m concerned for you. I’m not mad at you for running away, I’m mad at myself for not knowing why. I could have helped you, and I didn’t. I didn’t even notice. We just want the best for you, Belphie included. Even if he might be the cause of this. It was our fault for not noticing.

You’re so kind and considerate, and I’m ashamed of myself for not being the same back. Please forgive me if you can find it in your heart to do so.

-Beel.

You felt an air of shame surround you. Beel had a heart the same size as his hunger, and it you could feel the sadness he felt from reading his texts.

Perhaps it was time for you to stop being so evasive... maybe- it was time for you to answer their questions, to reveal what you truly felt on the inside.

It had tormented you for so long, the fear of being exposed, to be stripped bate for everyone to see what truly hid underneath- for them to be broken from their masks and lenses of lies and ignorance.

Was it really worth it? Was it worth it to worry about this for the rest of your minuscule, almost pointless life? Did they deserve your lies?

Were you worth it?

As sweet as they were, they were demons, nonetheless. Angels that fell from grace, their souls corrupted and blackened, their purity decayed and rotten.

How could they possibly understand? They couldn’t understand. Why should they? Human lives were pointless and non-existent when compared to theirs. Humans were weak and vulnerable, easily manipulated with just a few sentences.

Did they truly care for you at all? Did they only think of you as a replacement for their late, dear sister? Another Lilith?

Would you have been discarded and thrown away like trash if they did not know of your heritage? After all, the apple never falls far from the tree.

It was hard to trust people in the Devildom. It was hard to trust anyone at all, really. It was suffocating being so.. alone, no matter how isolated and distant you were.

It felt hard to breathe, again. The air felt constricting and hot.

No one could be trusted.

No one at all.

You let out a strangled sob, tears pouring down your reddened cheeks as you held onto yourself from comfort, crying for some sort of validation.

You were weak and spineless, and you brushed your hand in your hair as you tried to console yourself as silently as you could. You were truly alone. Vulnerable and scarred on the inside and outside. Maybe there really was no hope for you.

Salty, hot tears rushed down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but weep uncontrollably, your back arched and your arms wrapping around your shaking body.

Everything hurt so much, it felt as though you were being strangled again, pinned to the wall and unable to move. It was like dying all over again, and you couldn’t help but scream.

It felt like something was suffocating you, sitting on your chest like a bag of bricks. The air suddenly turned cold and you jumped, terrified of being attacked in your horrible, sensitive state.

You hid your face in your hands and sank down to the floor, wishing to disappear and never come back. What hope was there left? What was the point of your existence?

You screamed in your hands and went rigid, your entire body exhibiting naked emotion.

Everything was tuned out. The world simply didn’t exist anymore, and neither did anyone else. Except you.

Yet, you still failed to notice someone else entering the room, completely flabbergasted at what was happening in front of them.

”MC!” Beel yelled, frozen in a state of panic and pulsing waves of anger. It was absolutely sickening to witness you crumble into pieces on the floor, holding onto yourself hard enough to leave bruises. He would later beat himself up for being so ignorant.

He immediately fell to the floor and tried to hold you. He wanted to console you, to comfort you, but he couldn’t.

You felt so vulnerable and exposed. It was like reliving your death at the hands of Belphegor, and so when Beel tried to touch you, you screamed and crawled away from him, shifting yourself into the corner so he wasn’t even within arms length of you.

He immediately recoiled when you screamed, and felt his heart drop at the sight of you cowering away like an injured lamb.

You wailed, “Don’t touch me! Stop- get- get away from me!” You pulled up your knees and wrapped your arms around them, trying to disappear, if you could.

”Please- don’t hurt me- not again! Leave me alone- I beg you!”

Beel slowly shuffled closer, and tried to talk in the most calm and quiet voice he could muster up, careful not to rattle you any further.

”MC, it’s Beel, I’m not-“ he felt disgusted at seeing what his twin brother had done to you. He had broken you far from recognition, shattered you into pieces and left you by yourself to pick them up. He had defiled you. And the worst thing was that he allowed him to. It was almost as repulsive as doing it himself. “I’m not Belphie. I’m not going to hurt you,”

He held his arms wide enough for you to crawl into his embrace. “I want to help, MC. Please listen, I’m here for you.”

You looked up at him, shaken and tear-ridden, ashamed of mistaking him as a monster.

”Beel...?” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat scratchy and aching.

He nodded, “Yes, MC. It’s me.”

You jumped into his embrace, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around you and sat there, waiting for you to calm down, almost collapsing in tears, himself.

You two sat there for a while, not saying anything but appreciating each other’s company. Everything came to a standstill, and you were glad that nothing could be heard from here.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke after a while, ashamed of being seen like this, so exposed and weak.

He looked down at you and shook his head, “No, MC. You’re not the one who should be apologising, that should be me.”

”I wish I noticed, I’m so sorry.”

It was probably enough, at this point. If you had to put up with this for any longer, you may as well just not put up with anything, and let go.

If your life was just gonna be full of this horrible torture, the only way to be rid of this was to not be here any longer. To cease to live.

If only you could just double over and die. You would be so grateful to the demon that would end your misery in this twisted universe.

Your stupid, worthless life had no meaning anyway. There was nothing permanent in life. Friends would drift away, no matter how close you were or how long you’d know each other. And family members could not live forever either.

One day, you wouldn’t live. Be it at your hands or someone else’s. Maybe even nature.

It felt shameful and piteous to be seen like this- to feel like this. What was the point in living any longer?

People would laugh at you, they would judge you, they would hurt you- no matter if they were an angel, a demon or human. You would forever be judged.

Maybe some people thought of you as confident; maybe some of them thought of you as kind or considerate. Hell, maybe some of them thought of you as hardheaded or stubborn.

If you were to change yourself, you would always have a different version of yourself in everyone’s mind. There would never be the same version of yourself in anyone’s point of view. What was the point in redemption? You would never feel satisfaction so long as there is somebody that thinks of you in an ill-mannered way.

You were tired of thinking. You were tired of everything. You kept your arms around Beel and eased your body, letting yourself relax. He wrapped his arms around your form and scooped you up, letting you rest against him.

He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I’ll make everything right, MC. I swear.”

How sweet of him.

Your weary, red eyes closed, and you drifted away to a world where nothing could hurt you, and you were at peace. Away from this corrupt reality and hollow world.

[This chapter is really triggering, so please don’t hesitate to talk to me if you’re feeling like you need to vent or if you need any solace <3]

[tarisilmarwen]

Splinters: Confront

(Weekend got busy.  But here we are again.  Time for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort. :D)

---

"No, AP, I do not need you to recount the entire stack, all I want is to know ihow many power cells we have," Kallus groaned in aggravation.

"It could have changed since the last time I took inventory," AP-5 pointed out, somewhat indignantly. "In order to give you an accurate figure, it would be best for me to first ascertain that no one has taken any cells out of inventory, and the best way to do that is by recounting them all."

"I just need a rough number. That's all," Kallus said, rubbing both his temples.

Behind him he heard irreverent snickering from Jonner.

"Good grief, just take a couple and let's get on with it," muttered Gooti. "At this rate we'll never get out on the range."

Hearing her and silently agreeing, Kallus just reached past the inventory droid. "Ugh, never mind, AP, I'll just look for myself." He pried open the carton lid and made a quick scan with his eyes.

"Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six..." he counted to himself. "All right, there's plenty. AP, I'm taking a few for practice. If you still feel like you need to count them, you can go ahead."

"Acknowledged."

Kallus plucked four power cells from the crate. He tossed one to Gooti, juggling the others in the crook of his elbow as he made his way over.

Jonner quickly straightened, the grin dropping off his face. Mart didn't move from where he was splayed across two crates, his arms folded, looking past his feet glumly.

Kallus set the power cells down atop the crate Mart was leaning against, then whapped the boy's back in annoyance.

"Stop slouching!" he chided. "You'll ruin your posture!"

Startled, Mart's eyes widened and he scrambled to arrange himself into a more professional sitting position.

Kallus pulled out his standard-issue sidearm, opening up the handle. "All right," he explained, holding the blaster out so all three of them could see. "Now the first thing you do is—"

"Kallus!"

A shout from across the field reached his ears. Kallus leaned back up, turning in confusion.

Ezra was stalking up, his hands clenched, red-rimmed eyes burning with anger. When he reached them his arms snapped up, shoving Kallus lightly.

"You told Hera I'd be a liability?!" he yelled, incredulous.

Kallus took a stumbling step back, dismayed but not surprised at Ezra's anger. Of course the boy would have learned of his talk with Syndulla eventually, but he'd hoped Ezra wouldn't take it like a breach of trust.

"That's not what I said," he defended. "I warned her you could become a liability if you were put into an uncontrolled situation wherein something could trigger your memories of the incident and cause a... reaction," he said evasively, grimacing at the word.

Ezra jabbed a finger into Kallus's chest. "You screwed me over! Now Hera says I'm banned from missions for a week!" he said, eyes flashing, furious.

"How is that my fault?!" Kallus protested. "Did you or did you not have just such a reaction while on mission?" he demanded, folding his arms.

The anger on Ezra's face faltered. It looked like he was struggling to hold back tears. "That's not—" he sputtered. "I didn't—"

Kallus loosened his arms, forced himself to let go of his indigence, glancing back briefly and seeing the matching looks of distress and pity on Iron Squadron's faces. They were looking towards Ezra with concern, looking to him a little fearfully, unsure what to do. Kallus exhaled and turned back to Ezra, who was fisting his hands tightly, quivering, barely making eye contact.

He reached out gently.

"Ezra, I understand what you're going through—"

His hand had barely touched Ezra's shoulder before Ezra yanked himself back as if scalded.

"No you don't!" he screamed. The glimmer of tears peeked out from under his eyes. "You don't understand so don't even pretend you do!"

He whipped around with a choked sort of gasp, running back the way he'd come, rushing past Kanan, who followed his heavy pounding footsteps with his turning head and made an ineffective grab for him.

"Ezra!" he called sharply.

Ezra didn't respond, rubbing his eyes as disappeared between a pair of bewildered pilots.

Kanan groaned in frustration, leaving his padawan for now and walking up to Kallus.

"Sorry about that," he said, rubbing his face and neck. "You know he doesn't mean it."

"I know. No offense is taken, Master Jarrus," Kallus assured him. His hand drifted up to clasp his elbow. "I... assume the mission went... poorly?" he asked.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it," sighed Kanan. "Let's just say it was a bit rough."

An awkward silence fell between the two men for a moment. Kallus was looking towards the ground, rubbing his arm, his face solemn.

"...I was only trying to look out for him," he said, quietly.

"He knows that," Kanan reassured him. "Ezra's just... frustrated. And you're an easy target to pin it on. For what it's worth," Kanan interjected, "thank you. I'm glad you've been watching over him."

A faint and grim smile touched Kallus's mouth. "He risked his life to come rescue me. That's something I won't soon forget." He punctuated his next words with a long-suffering eye roll. "And stars know he's too stubborn to admit when he's troubled."

"Don't I know it," Kanan groaned. He held up a questioning hand. "Which way did he go?" he asked.

Kallus directed his arm. "On the left, about fifty paces, opening to the tunnels. You'll feel the air. Take care to step around the supply crates, fifteen paces, slightly on your right."

"Thanks," Kanan said, moving in the direction he'd been instructed, one hand feeling out for obstacles.

Kallus watched him go, just to make sure he didn't trip over something, then gave a huff. "Now if there are no further interruptions..." he said, turning back around.

He stopped, casting his gaze this way and that. Ensign Terez and Ensign Jin were still in place but Ensign Mattin had, mysteriously, disappeared.

"Oh for... not again," Kallus groaned.

***

Ezra picked at the grass with his fingers, quietly ripping blades up and flicking away the pieces. He'd finally found a place, on the far, far side of the landing field, where the static in his head didn't feel like it was suffocating him.

The hustle and bustle of the base was barely audible here. The only one around was Chopper, who had rolled up next to him some time ago. Every so often the droid would poke him with one of his manipulators and ask a question, Ezra giving short, mumbled replies back. For the most part the droid was silent, just... being present.

Ezra appreciated that.

He sniffed, blinking hard. His eyes itched, red and puffy. His face was probably flushed.

His wrist comm had been pinging for an hour. Hera or Sabine or maybe Zeb trying to reach him. He didn't know. He hadn't answered any of them.

The wind rustled. Somewhere off in the trees a bird was chirping. The Force swirled in eddies around him.

They shifted, alerting him to Kanan's approaching presence even before Ezra heard his voice and his footsteps.

"You gonna keep making me chase you around the base?" Kanan asked.

Chopper screeched and barreled for the Jedi's legs, knocking against them.

"Ah!" Kanan cried, hopping back in pain. Chopper continued his assault, whapping at Kanan's shins with his manipulators as he berated the man in angry binary. Kanan pulled his legs out of range, glaring down at the droid. "Hey, back off, Chopper!" he barked. "I will tell Hera about this!"

Ezra spoke up, tucking his arms under his knees. "Chop, it's okay. Just let him through."

Chopper warbled uncertainly, but rolled aside and let Kanan proceed. Ezra heard the crunch of the grass under Kanan's boots as he walked up.

"I don't wanna talk right now, Kanan," he said, muttering into his legs.

"I know you don't." Kanan's fingers brushed behind Ezra's head, found his shoulder and used it as a handhold to lean on as he sat down next to him. "But I think you might need to."

"Is Hera still mad?" The question burned out of him before he could stop it.

Kanan let his hand drift around Ezra's other shoulder, hugging the boy to his side tightly. "She's not mad at you, Ezra," he said, his words a weary groan. "She's upset that you pushed yourself into a mission before you were ready and didn't warn her about your sound triggers, and she's obsessing over what could have happened to you if she and Zeb hadn't gotten to you right away. But she's not mad at you," he repeated.

Ezra shrugged halfheartedly. "If you say so," he mumbled, clearly not believing him.

Kanan squeezed Ezra's shoulders tighter, giving him a little shake. "Hey. I mean it," he told the boy sharply. "Hera and I are much more worried about what could have happened than what did happen. You're here, and you're safe. That's what matters," he emphasized.

Kanan's words did nothing to budge the miserable expression from Ezra's face. But with his master's arm holding him, the peaceful quiet of Yavin's jungle, the humid sunlight on his head... he did have to agree that this was vastly preferable to all the terrible scenarios that had been running through his head.

He sat in silence with Kanan for a while, feeling the reassurance his master was trying to pass to him through their bond, just listening to the sound of his own breathing, to Chopper's quiet beeps and wheel skids as he wandered around.

Kanan rubbed his shoulder. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Ezra thought for a moment. Conflicting emotions were jostling for his attention, but the one that bubbled up closest to the surface...

"Angry," he replied.

"At Kallus?"

"At myself." He uncurled his arms from his knees, his hands opening to the air helplessly. "I begged Hera to be let on the mission and then I couldn't even handle it." Ezra dropped his face into his palms. "Kallus was right. I'm a liability," he said, his voice tight, trying to keep from crying.

"You're a kid who got hurt and is still healing from it," Kanan corrected firmly. A quiet fury ran under his words, appalled that Ezra would think so little of himself. "You botched up one mission, Ezra. That doesn't make you a liability. No one thinks you are, not even Kallus." Kanan tugged him closer, letting Ezra's head come to rest against his collar. "Maybe just try to pick your missions a little more carefully next time okay?" he said, his voice softer.

Ezra let himself be pulled into the comforting gesture, hands dropping into his lap, tears prickling at his eyes again. "But Kanan, what if—what if it keeps happening? What if I keep messing up?"

Kanan shook his head. "You won't. But you have to tell us when you're uncomfortable or unsure about doing something." Kanan gave one last squeeze before letting go, letting Ezra have a little room. "And there are a few Force techniques I could teach you," he added. "It won't be like this forever, Ezra. You will get better."

The conviction in his master's voice made him want to believe it. Ezra stared off into the trees for a long moment.

Finally, he stirred, moving to get up, and he was surprised that his chest felt just a little bit lighter.

"Thanks," he said.

"Where are you going?" Kanan asked, confused.

Ezra's mouth twisted grimly. "To go apologize to Kallus."

***

Ezra paced back and forth, trying the frequency for Kallus' comm again, some irrational part of him hoping no one would answer.

But with a jolt of anxiety pinging through him, Ezra heard the line pick up and an annoyed voice piping through.

"That had better be you, Ensign Mattin or so help me—"

"Um, actually it's me."

An awkward pause.

"Oh." Seemingly regaining his composure, Kallus asked, "What is it, Ezra?"

Ezra was immeasurably thankful he'd chosen to do this over comm, rather than in person, so Kallus couldn't see his face. His fingernails dug into the back of his neck as he took a deep breath.

"I just... wanted to say sorry. For earlier." His cheeks were burning hot. The words scraped out of his throat with effort. "I was wrong to yell at you," he strained out.

"That's all right. I understand why you did."

Force, he hated how understanding everyone was being around him. He wished someone would just yell at him. Tell him what a screw-up he was. Something.

He cleared his throat.

"Anyway, that's... that's all I needed to say," he finished.

"You're forgiven," Kallus said tersely. "Now if you'll excuse me, Ensign Mattin is ducking training. Again."

Ezra's brows scrunched. "How do you keep losing him?" he asked, incredulous.

Kallus just ended the call without another word.

---

We now return you to your regularly scheduled chapter notes.

1. Writing Kallus as an Eternally Frustrated Parent is endlessly entertaining. Expect more jokes at his expense in that regard.

2. Mart finally appears! Not for very long, but we'll see more of him later.

3. Kanan is the best Space Dad, accept no substitutes. XD

Aaahhh, I loved writing this one! See y'all again next week!