Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night was quiet. Too quiet for East side. Not even the sound of the rats fighting for food was to hear. Tommy shuddered. Something was off tonight and he could feel it. Yet he kept walking to return home.
He’d almost made it, when he saw something in the corner of his eye. He hesitated, but ultimately decided to check it out. It was a boy, seemingly about his age, with fluffy brown hair and ram features, a big gold ring fixed around his right horn. He was wearing a green shirt of some sort, and he had many scars. But most remarkably, he was fighting. His opponent was a young man, whose black hair was pushed back by a white headband, and wearing a tight black long sleeve with a loose white T-Shirt over it. The boy dodged an attack from the man and immediately countered with an attack of his own. Tommy watched the two for a while, mesmerized by what almost looked like a dance. A deadly ballet. Tommy was ripped from his thoughts by a high pitched beeping sound. The ram boy was as confused as Tommy, but the man tapped on some kind of bracelet and out it to his ear.
“Dream? I’m mid battle right now—“
He cut off, listening to what this ‘Dream’ person was saying.
“Fuck, okay. Be there in five.”
He sighed and slowly took the arm back down. The brown haired boy sighed and pinched his nose bridge.
“Stars… Sapnap, stop starting fights and leaving in the middle of them.”
He groaned. The man — Sapnap — looked almost apologetic, but he did not reply, instead, he turned and ran towards west. Once Sapnap was out of sight, the boy collapsed against the wall, allowing himself to express the pain from his injuries. Tommy stepped closer cautiously. For all he knew, the boy could be dangerous! But even still, he was wounded. Nausea arose in Tommy when he noticed the brown stain on the boy’s side: blood. “Hey big man, um…” he spoke, grabbing the boys attention “can I see that?” He moved closer, his eyes not moving from the stain. The boy tensed, his green eyes fixed on Tommy. His breathing was unsteady. Tommy stood directly in front of the boy, and crouched down. The boy attempted to move to the side but flinched at the pain. “I’m not gonna hurt you, big man.” Tommy promised. He gently lifted the boys shirt to reveal a huge stab wound. Tommy sucked in a sharp breath.
“Damn…”
Despite the boy’s small noises of pain and his surprised yelp, Tommy pressed his hand onto the wound and focused. Sure enough, the familiar warmth crept into his fingers. He closed his eyes, yet he knew his hands were glowing. He felt the familiar feeling of skin knitting itself back together under his hands, accompanied by a sharp pounding headache. When he could barely stay conscious, he took away his hands. Through half lidded eyes, he could see that the wound wasn’t fully healed, but enough to not be fatal. The boy walked closer to Tommy, who’d fallen onto the ground, in awe.
“Thank you.”
He spoke softly, and tucked a forget-me-not behind Tommy’s ear. Then, everything went black.

Chapter Text

The night was quiet. Too quiet, almost, the only sound being Tommy's own footsteps. There was something heavy sitting in the air. Something promising a change that would be irreversible, yet one Tommy would not be able to stop. So he walked instead, following the familiar turns to his residence.

It was only one more turn. Left, down the street, the third apartment. The paint peeled from its walls, and it looked to be three seconds away from collapsing; hell, it probably was, but it was safer to sleep on the streets.

He was just about to make that turn, when something caught his eye. A movement.

Something inside him compelled, no, forced him to step into the small alleyway.

He watched, almost as if in a trance, as the two figures danced, their blades clashing. He tried to make out features, but it was blinding to look at them. Yet he couldn't turn his head.

It mesmerised him, how the smaller one parried the taller's attacks effortlessly, how the laughter rung out and echoed, the loudest thing in the world and yet silent.

He wanted to get closer, to touch it, to burn in its embrace, but he was frozen on the spot.

He didn't know, didn't care, how long he watched the divine beings, because they must've been divine, he had no doubt, before the taller one backed off. With a nod of its head, it left. Disappeared, more like.

The smaller one stayed.

It was hurt.

He didn't know how he knew it was, but he was certain it was injured.
And he could, had to, help.

He found he could move again, suddenly, and so he did. Move, i mean. Closer to the divine being that lay crumpled up against the dirty alleyway's wall, its eyes closed.

He wasn't sure if it was awake, but then again he didn't know if the divine could be unconscious in the first place.

His hands found their way to what must be its forehead and let his powers spread out. The warmth spread in his hands and through the divine, and it almost hurt the mortal.
Almost.

The mortal's hands began to glow a soft red as he tugged on his powers to know what's wrong and know how to fix it.

His hands heated up to what would be unbearable if one weren't experienced, but neither mortal nor divine noticed.

The mortal felt skin - was it skin, or was it pure light, fixed into a physical form - knit together under his hands, felt internal organs fix themselves, felt tension ease out of the divine as his warmth spread in the divine.

A dying star relighting a vibrant sun.

It sapped the mortal's own energy, but he did not mind, for he was serving his God. He knew it was one of his now for certain.

And when he opened his eyes, sluggish, tired, half-lidded, he noticed the divine wasn't as blinding anymore.

The God had allowed the mortal to see him, truly see him, and he smiled at the mortal as his eyes fell shut.

The last thing he heard before unconsciousness draped itself over his mind like a soft blanket was a whisper, silent yet loud as everything yelling at once, "Thank you," the whisper said as the God tucked a forget-me-not behind his mortal's ea

Chapter Text

Tommy woke cradled in something unbearably soft. He felt like he’d been lit on fire, yet was not in pain. As he shifted, the smooth silk tickled his skin.

He blinked his eyes open—or he thought he did, but what was in front of him was so incomprehensible, his mind would not let him see it.

“It’s awake.” The eldritch creature spoke, and its voice sounded like resting in a field of grass, swallowed up by Mother Nature’s love, for just a moment as close as a mortal could get to being embraced by a God.

Tommy made a questioning sound that he was sure would’ve meant something to him just a day ago, but now did not.

There was a chuckle, light as a soft breeze, and something soothing him, their voice like soft moonlight pouring over the mortal and the sun’s warm rays drying his clothes. “Shh, don’t be scared; we’re good. We’re good.”

Tommy felt himself go boneless. Huh. So he still had a body.
Neat.

He felt someone pick him up.
Oddly enough, he did not mind being taken out of the comfort.

“Hey! That’s my mortal!” The earthy voice complained, to which the soothing one holding him chuckled. “Calm yourself, Tubbo; I’m just looking at it.”

Tubbo huffed.

Tommy had the instinctual urge to soothe the being’s worries. He made a noise, but he wasn’t sure what it meant anymore himself.

Apparently it was taken as him being uncomfortable, though, as the soothing voice began rubbing circles into his back. “Shh….”

“Ranboooo, give it backkkk!” Tubbo whined.

Ranboo handed over Tommy with what felt like a fond nod.

Tommy was cradled into his divine’s chest possessively.
Happy trilling sounded through the room, though it took him a moment to understand it was himself trilling.

He was content.