Who: Mercymorn the First, Paul Atreides, and you What: October catch-all, open and closed prompts When: Throughout October Where: Various locations in Trench
Content Warnings: Depression, suicidal ideation (passive), body horror, memory loss
Paul can say it, but he shouldn't have to. That knowledge makes it worse. The nerves to feel would be dead, but they aren't. They scream, and Midoriya's chest hurts when he watches Paul hold fire blooming in his upturned palm like a deadly lotus. It scours the air dry.
Paul had simply agreed that day, but now Midoriya knows his true sentiment. They refuse to accept the world as it is, the one that says one of them must die.
"I've told you about the person back home who could see the future," he says lowly. "There was an unforeseen outcome. It caught them by surprise. They looked, and they thought we would fail and die, but we didn't." It was a bittersweet victory. Sir Nighteye died of his wounds later. Midoriya sat at the kitchen counter with Paul and obliquely mentioned it in the wake of the Leviathan's destruction.
He runs his glove along what is presumably the Omen's sinuous neck. It is calming to concentrate on making a soothing motion as if he can make trials vanish like wrinkles. Perhaps occupying his hand with comforting the Omen will make him feel like he can remain poised sitting here... He finally shatters, and he clutches the worm that isn't Sophia to his chest. She's too warm, but so are his tears, and he buries his face into her like a heated blanket.
The sand worm coils as comfortingly as she can against Midoriya's chest, her tapering tail wrapping around his wrist and her closed mouth nuzzling at his tear-slicked face. Unlike her living counterparts, the water holds no terror for her.
The hum starts slowly. She's never done it before. It builds to a pulsating vibration like a rolling purr, or the thrum of an alien engine in the place of a heart. Her heat cools to warmth as she offers Midoriya all the comfort her Sleeper can't.
"I love you too, Izuku-kun."
Paul doesn't realize he's crying with him at first. The sting at the inner corners of his eyes could be anything until he notices the difference in the shimmering of light in front of him. He leans into the ram's wool and half-hides his face there, shoulders rising and falling in breath that saws like a knife.
"I'm sick of looking at the future. What does it have to show me? Everything I want to see is here. It's with you. I should have seen that." His throat aches, his heart caught in it. "I see it now."
Did that shadowy seer see it, in the end? Paul doesn't want to know. He thinks he might finally understand why Midoriya asked him so desperately not to look for him in the black waves that stretch endlessly on ahead.
He remembers Sophia's weight, so slight that it was better marked by the patter of her hands and feet than any heaviness. He remembers the drawing of the worm and its eye of teeth, a creature that has always so fascinated Paul. He buries his sobs into her, and he can only liken her comforting purr to a car that is somehow alive and hums like no car should. Midoriya's Omen solidly supports Paul's weight and tucks their chin over his curls as if he is in danger of being blown away like ash.
He has never looked away from Paul's tears, though there were times he could have to help Paul save face. It's not in Midoriya to look away and abandon him to his sorrow. Watching Paul cry with him deepens his own sobs, and he takes minutes to surface from them.
"I've brought food, some clothes for us... You can see me as long as you want. I'll be here." I promise, though he doesn't need to say it.
When the tears taper off to a shivering ache, Paul doesn't feel lighter or more whole, precisely. Everything is as horrible as it was before. What he feels is cleaner, like he's expelled some intangible filth in the salt crusted at the corners of his eyes he rubs away in the wool of Midoriya's Omen. He sits back and looks at him again, longing as strong as it ever was.
"I'd like that." Paul's voice catches at the top of his throat, and he swallows thickly, mouth tasting like ash and char.
Midoriya will have to visit Kaworu again, eventually. The rest of the city will call him back too, his Hero's work never done. Paul has a whole world to share him with, and he will let him go when he has to. But not yet. Not while he can keep Midoriya here, his Omen still curling herself into him with all the love in Paul's heart, while they can sit and share a meal like this is any day by the water, while Paul can lie down and drift off to sleep next to his protective, constant Izuku.
He always has better dreams when they're next to someone else.
cw: death mention, mha spoilers (anime-friendly)
Paul had simply agreed that day, but now Midoriya knows his true sentiment. They refuse to accept the world as it is, the one that says one of them must die.
"I've told you about the person back home who could see the future," he says lowly. "There was an unforeseen outcome. It caught them by surprise. They looked, and they thought we would fail and die, but we didn't." It was a bittersweet victory. Sir Nighteye died of his wounds later. Midoriya sat at the kitchen counter with Paul and obliquely mentioned it in the wake of the Leviathan's destruction.
He runs his glove along what is presumably the Omen's sinuous neck. It is calming to concentrate on making a soothing motion as if he can make trials vanish like wrinkles. Perhaps occupying his hand with comforting the Omen will make him feel like he can remain poised sitting here... He finally shatters, and he clutches the worm that isn't Sophia to his chest. She's too warm, but so are his tears, and he buries his face into her like a heated blanket.
"I love you, Paul-kun," he chokes between sobs.
no subject
The hum starts slowly. She's never done it before. It builds to a pulsating vibration like a rolling purr, or the thrum of an alien engine in the place of a heart. Her heat cools to warmth as she offers Midoriya all the comfort her Sleeper can't.
"I love you too, Izuku-kun."
Paul doesn't realize he's crying with him at first. The sting at the inner corners of his eyes could be anything until he notices the difference in the shimmering of light in front of him. He leans into the ram's wool and half-hides his face there, shoulders rising and falling in breath that saws like a knife.
"I'm sick of looking at the future. What does it have to show me? Everything I want to see is here. It's with you. I should have seen that." His throat aches, his heart caught in it. "I see it now."
Did that shadowy seer see it, in the end? Paul doesn't want to know. He thinks he might finally understand why Midoriya asked him so desperately not to look for him in the black waves that stretch endlessly on ahead.
no subject
He has never looked away from Paul's tears, though there were times he could have to help Paul save face. It's not in Midoriya to look away and abandon him to his sorrow. Watching Paul cry with him deepens his own sobs, and he takes minutes to surface from them.
"I've brought food, some clothes for us... You can see me as long as you want. I'll be here." I promise, though he doesn't need to say it.
no subject
"I'd like that." Paul's voice catches at the top of his throat, and he swallows thickly, mouth tasting like ash and char.
Midoriya will have to visit Kaworu again, eventually. The rest of the city will call him back too, his Hero's work never done. Paul has a whole world to share him with, and he will let him go when he has to. But not yet. Not while he can keep Midoriya here, his Omen still curling herself into him with all the love in Paul's heart, while they can sit and share a meal like this is any day by the water, while Paul can lie down and drift off to sleep next to his protective, constant Izuku.
He always has better dreams when they're next to someone else.