#Weekly Challenge

[aleksandracoffan]

Gaaraweek Day 7 - Oasis

[doumadono]

Silent Waves, Silent Wounds - Touya Todoroki x Reader

A/N: today's episode broke my heart and made me cry uncontrollably. With a nice prompt set for this week's challenge in a community I'm part of, I decided to combine the two. I just hope my Touya will survive. Gif was made by @gamergirl-niffler

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Touya's first breaths of freedom were laced with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the distant echoes of calamity.

Beneath the flickering streetlights of Musutafu, shadows twirled across the damp pavement, casting the world in veils of half-truths and murmured secrets.

It was upon a night cloaked in despair that Touya Todoroki, shrouded in the remnants of his shattered past, escaped the suffocating confines of what should have been a sanctuary. The hospital, ostensibly a bastion of healing and hope, had morphed into nothing but a prison, all under the malevolent gaze of All For One.

In a moment fueled by raw desperation and a primal urge for freedom, Touya, with hands trembling and heart pounding against the cage of his ribcage, ignited the very foundations that had ensnared him. Flames, hungry and unrestrained, licked upwards, clawing at the structure with a ferocity. Fire roared through the hallways, a fierce, unforgiving inferno that consumed everything in its path — medical charts, synthetic bed linens, the false promises of recovery.

As the inferno raged behind him, Touya stumbled into the cold embrace of the night.

The city loomed large and indifferent, its countless lights flickering like distant stars, unreachable and cold. Each step was a battle, his body a map of wounds both fresh and long endured, scars that told tales he could barely remember, tales of a mere boy who once dreamed of heroism but found himself ensnared in a nightmare of his father's making.

He moved through the shadows, a spectral figure haunted by the echoes of his past and the uncertain horrors of his future. Tonight, the world was both his enemy and his ally, hiding him from those who would seek to drag him back to that hellish place, yet offering no comfort from the relentless grip of his solitude and sorrow. His face, marred with scars that told stories of a tragic past and unresolved pain, was not one that people usually turned to for comfort.

As he navigated through the dimly lit streets, his eyes were cautious and wary of the stares that followed him like specters.

It was then he saw you - a girl sitting alone on the curb, your sobs cutting through the muffled sounds of the city like a siren’s call. You were young, perhaps no older than he, with tears streaking your cheeks and your shoulders trembling under the weight of your unseen burdens.

Despite his fears and the fresh pain of his own memories, something within him stirred - a remnant of the hero he once aspired to be. Hesitant, he approached you, his voice barely above a whisper after he cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, even though he knew it was no longer possible. “Hey, are you okay?”

You jerked your head up, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise as they landed on his disfigured features.

For a heartbeat, Touya thought you would scream, run away, or recoil in horror.

But then, something remarkable happened - your expression softened, and your initial fright melted into a sad, understanding smile. “Not really,” you confessed, wiping your tears away with the back of your shaking hand. “My dad… he drinks too much. And my mom, she doesn’t really care. She threw me out tonight. Said she’d had enough of me being useless.”

The words struck a chord in Touya. Abandonment, pain, a longing for something better - themes that resonated deeply within his own life. Sitting heavily beside you on the cold curb, he offered you a timid smile, one that seemed almost out of place on his scarred visage. "I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a mixture of warmth and a chilling detachment born from years of conditioning under his father’s harsh regime. “I… I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one.”

You studied him, your reddened eyes lingering on his scars with a curiosity born from your own pain rather than judgement. “What happened to you?” you asked gently, perhaps too gently for the horror that his story contained.

Touya looked away, his eyes tracing the patterns of light and shadow on the ground. “I don’t remember everything,” he confessed. “But I know I was trying to prove something to my dad. It didn’t end well, as you can see.”

You sat in silence, the world around you bustling with life, yet oblivious to the shared moment of grief between two strangers.

People passed by, their glances sharp and sometimes filled with a disdain that neither of you were unfamiliar with.

Sensing Touya’s discomfort, you made a decision. “Let’s go somewhere else,” you suggested, a spark of resolve lighting up your tear-stained face. “Somewhere away from prying eyes. I know a nice place, if you'd like to join me.”

Touya nodded casually, “I think I’d like that. I have nowhere to be anyway.”

Without another word, you stood, holding out you hand to help him up. Your touch was warm, a stark contrast to the coldness he had come to expect from the world.

Together, you walked through the deserted streets, your steps in sync, until the city sounds faded into the background, replaced by the soothing rhythm of waves crashing against the shore.

Beneath the expansive canopy of the night sky, the beach lay deserted, bathed in the ethereal, silvery glow of the moon. The ocean before them transformed into a shimmering tapestry, each wave weaving threads of light across the dark canvas of water. It was here, with the cool sand cradling your steps and the vast, relentless sea stretching into infinity, that you discovered a fleeting sanctuary — a momentary escape from the ravages of your tormented existences.

As you settled onto the sand, the ocean's eternal murmurs surrounding you, Touya found himself unexpectedly comforted by the raw, natural beauty of the scene. Yet, he was taken aback when you revealed that it was not just chance that brought you to this tranquil haven in the dead of night.

“I come here often, especially after fights at home,” you confessed softly, your eyes reflecting the moonlight like fragments of a broken mirror. “The sound of the waves… it calms the storm inside me. Maybe it can do the same for you.”

Touya hesitated before his voice broke the silence. "I'm like these waves," he murmured, his voice tinged with a haunting sadness. "Crashing again and again, with no control, no end. I don't even remember why I started… what I was trying to prove." His gaze was lost to the horizon, where the dark sea met the darker sky, his face a mask of sorrow sculpted by the silvery light.

"It's hard, isn't it?" you said softly, pulling your knees closer to your chest, feeling the chill of the night seeping through your clothes. "Feeling like you're caught in a storm with no shelter in sight. I sit here, night after night, wondering if the screaming will ever stop, if there will ever be a night without tears, without all this emptiness."

"Does it help? Coming here, hearing the waves?" Touya asked.

"It doesn't stop the pain," you admitted, "but sometimes, it makes it bearable. The sea doesn't judge, doesn't demand. It just is. And for a little while, I can just be too, without worrying about the next wave that might knock me down."

"I wish I could remember what peace feels like," he confessed, his words blending with the whisper of the wind.

You reached out, your hand brushing against his, a small gesture of comfort in the overwhelming vastness of your shared solitude.

"Maybe we can't go back to who we were," you suggested, your voice a tentative whisper against the symphony of the sea. "But perhaps we can find new reasons to look forward to the sunrise."

Touya's hand trembled slightly under yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped your hand, his hold tentative but needing the connection. "I'd like that," he said, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips, as fragile and fleeting as a wave’s crest as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "To look forward to something, to hope for something better."

[hotgirlsunny]

✨Weekly Challenge Winner!✨

Our challenge theme this week was 'Time Travel⌛' and @silkentine won with this amazing comic about Sanji and Reiju!

Thank you so much for participating! This was so amazing and incredibly impressive for a week-long challenge! She's received a month of discord nitro as a reward as well as a special role in our server.

We're making a few exciting changes to our weekly challenge and are taking a break next week. We're hosting a Valentine's Day event on our server in the meantime! If you'd like to join in, our discord is open to anyone interested regardless of your participation in our main events!

Click here to see our runner ups and see you next week with our challenge results!

[urtear-art]

Gaara week 1- Demon

(I will try to keep up)

[justgaara]

Gaara Week 2025!

Hosted by @justgaara​ !

Hello! And welcome to the ELEVENTH YEAR of Gaara Week! A Gaara focused weekly challenge leading up to his birthday! This weekly challenge will start on the 12th of January and run until Gaara’s Birthday on the 19th of January.

Feel free to draw, write, make, cosplay, sing, dance, take screenshots, make gifs, whatever you want! As long as it has something to do with each separate day’s theme, and you create it yourself. 

Under no circumstance will AI generated imagery or text be allowed in any way, shape or form. This event is meant to inspire your own creativity and imagination. AI content is not and never will be welcome here.

The year 2025′s themes:

12th January - DAY 1 - Demon

13th January - DAY 2 - Breakable

14th January - DAY 3 - Prickly

15th January - DAY 4 - Casual

16th January - DAY 5 - Horizon

17th January - DAY 6 - Double

18th January - DAY 7 - Oasis

19th January - DAY 8 - Gaara’s Birthday!

Tag all your contributions with #gaaraweek and #gaaraweek2025! Make sure they’re in the first 5 tags listed otherwise they may not show up! You can also submit your creations to @justgaara​ or message me directly.

If you’re busy and don’t have time to join in everyday, then you’re welcome to pick out your favourites and just do a few. I will be following the tags all January, so if you don’t make it in time for this exact week, you are still able to complete the challenge in your own time. If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask me over at @justgaara.

You are free to create whatever you want with each day’s theme, just know that @justgaara is strictly Gaara only, so if you make something that contains anyone else besides Gaara and his immediate family I won’t be able to share it on my blog.

Know that hate or negativity of any kind will not be tolerated.

Thank you and have fun!

DO YOUR PART! SHARE THIS POST WITH A REBLOG!

IT’S TIME TO CELEBRATE GAARA’S BIRTHDAY!

[shonen-brainrot]

Together - Bakugo x Reader (comfort)

masterlist

The soft light of early morning spills through the window, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and rose. You wake to the familiar weight of his arm draped across your waist, his breathing steady and deep, his face relaxed in a rare, peaceful expression. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t look this calm often, not anymore. Not since the war.

You move carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But as you try to shift, his grip tightens ever so slightly. Even in sleep, his instincts are sharp. You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrowing in that familiar scowl even now.

You wonder if he’s dreaming of the battlefield again.

It’s been nearly 10 years since the dust of the final battle settled. The world has changed so much. The heroes are rebuilding, trying to restore what was lost. Bakugo’s name is whispered with reverence across the nation — Dynamight, the one who helped bring peace. But to you, he’s Katsuki. Your Katsuki, the boy who used to snarl at you for getting too close, and now, the man who can’t sleep without his hand resting on your skin, as if anchoring himself to something that isn’t the chaos.

You can tell when he’s having a bad day. He doesn’t talk about it — he never does — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes cloud over, those signs are enough. You’ve learned to read him in ways no one else can. But you wish, sometimes, that he would share the weight he carries, that he’d let you into the storm raging in his mind.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, gently shifting to face him. The sound of his name from your lips, soft and tender, works like a tether. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, they’re unfocused, still lost in the remnants of some distant war.

He blinks, and the sharpness returns. He’s here. With you.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to your cheek, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a small gesture, one that he doesn’t even seem to think about, but it sends warmth blooming in your chest. The touch is gentle — so unlike the explosive power in his hands when he’s out there saving the world. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes locking with his. The scars on his face are more prominent in the morning light, reminders of the battles you both fought to get here. But to you, they’re not marks of violence. They’re proof of his resilience, his strength, his will to survive and protect.

“You okay?” you ask softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

He huffs, his typical response, but his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t often let others see. “Tch. 'Course I am.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with concern. You know him better than that. You reach up, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, feeling the small tremor that runs through him at the intimate gesture. His walls are strong, but they crumble for you, in moments like these, when the world feels far away and it's just the two of you, suspended in the quiet aftermath of everything.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not with me.”

His eyes darken for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. He shifts, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, which falls rebelliously across his face. He doesn’t respond right away. Bakugo’s never been good with words, not when it comes to things that matter most. But then, after a long pause, he sighs.

“It’s just…” He stops, jaw tightening. “It’s not over. Not for me.”

You reach out, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes, the same way he always does for you. The small act feels like an unspoken promise — that you’re here, that you always will be by his side.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Katsuki. Always.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. He reaches for you, pulling you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s not an apology, not an admission of weakness. But in his silence, you find his answer.

You hold him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm against yours. The world may never fully heal from the wounds left behind, but in this moment, here with him, you believe that you both will find a way to keep moving forward. Together.

[gamergirl-niffler]

Keeping You Close To Keep You Safe || Genshin x reader headcanons

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge! I really tried my best so I hope it's at least a little bit good.

Prompt: grabbing each other's hands in crowds to "be safe"

Neuvillette

💧 The two of you decided to go and see Lyney magic shows.

💧 Recently you both had a lot of work on your shared shoulders so this was a nice idea to relax.

💧 The whole Opera Epiclese is filled to the brim with people who also want to see the magic.

💧 You aren't a fan of crowds.

💧 Neuvillette is fully aware of your dislike of crowds. He isn't a fan of them himself.

💧 "Maybe we should leave? There will be other magic shows soon. Maybe then there will be less people?" You suggest, giving Neuvillette a soft smile.

💧 He looks at you and shakes his head. "No need. Allow me," Iudex says softly and offers you his hand. "This way, you'll stay close to me. If you don't mind."

💧 You give him a nod and place your hand in his. "I don't mind at all. Thank you."

💧 Neuvillette smiles, giving your hand a soft squeeze as he leads the both of you to your seat.

💧 Your hands stay intertwined long after the start of the show.

Tighnari

☘️ It's not uncommon for you to get into trouble while on the patrol. 

☘️ You are a very experienced ranger yet still tend to be a literal magnet for problems. 

☘️ Tighnari likes you BUT he is getting tired of this. Thankfully he has an easy solution for this.

☘️ He simply joins you on your next patrol. Rightfully so, you are surprised but you aren't complaining. 

☘️ Everything is going fine. That is until you decide to stray away to check something and get attacked by Dendroshroom.

☘️ Thankfully you are saved by Tighnari. "I swear to Archon. How are you still alive?" He asks, shaking his head.

☘️ "I guess I am very lucky?" You shrug, getting up from the group. After this you join him back on the main patch.

☘️ At some point you want to stray away again but this time Tighnari grabs your hand, holding it tightly. "Just to be safe. I'll hold your hand until this patrol is over."

☘️ You blink but nod, realizing that you indeed were a bit of a problem. "Okay. That sounds reasonable"

☘️ He squeezes your hand with a nod. "At least I don't need to worry about you."

Diluc

🔥 You agreed to join Diluc on one of those fancy banquets.

🔥 You just walk around to check out everything while he is away until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

🔥 There is a tall man, dressed in probably the most expensive outfit you have ever seen with many rings decorating his slim fingers. 

🔥 "Forgive me for bothering you, but such a beauty shouldn't wander around alone. How about you join me?" He offers with a soft, a little menacing smile.

🔥 You are about to politely decline his kind offer  when you are pulled to the side by Diluc. "This beauty already has company. You can go now," he says and you can feel the tension in his voice.

🔥 "Very well. Time is money, I won't waste it on fighting over a woman," the man shrugs and walks away.

🔥 "You could be a little nicer," you remind, looking up at him.

🔥 Diluc scoffs and intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. "I won't be nice while dealing with the Fatui Harbinger."

🔥 You gasp and look in a man's direction. "He is one of them?”

🔥 "Yeah but you are safe with me. I promise," Diluc assures you, giving your hand a squeeze.

[al-norton]

Giant flying friction blast!!

[study-diaries]

Weekly Goals

I've been really lazy these past two weeks since summer break started so i think this is a good way to track my progress and productivity.

Complete a course on digital marketing (which I was ignoring for a long time)

Finish atleast 2 books

Complete atleast 5+ lessons in Arabic

Start attending summer course classes (also Arabic)

Clean my closet

Wake up alittle earlier (it's not gonna happen but let's believe it will)

Watch a movie

[akwolfgrl]

Robin in a coffee shop! @hotgirlsunny

[aleksandracoffan]

Gaara may be calm on the outside, but you should never forget how broken he is on the inside Day 2 - Breakable

[doumadono]

Warnings: pure angst, graphic descriptions of injuries, pregnancy mention, Dabi spiraling into madness while consumed entirely by his thirst for vengeance, a lot of sadness

Synopsis: after the Final War leaves Dabi on the brink of death, you remain by his side, pouring out your love and revealing the secret you never had the chance to share with him before

A/N: this fic was written as my contribution to the weekly challenge in @candycandy00 community ♥

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The air around him was heavy with the scent of ash and smoke.

You stood there, watching as he flicked his fingers, a tiny blue flame flickering to life and dancing across his scarred skin. It illuminated the deep lines and cracks that marred his face, each one a story, each one a wound that had never healed. 

His hair was white now - ghostly, almost - and it only made the darkness in his eyes stand out more. He didn’t look at you. Instead, he stared at the flame as if it held all the answers, as if he could burn away everything that had brought him to this moment.

"Why does it always have to be this way?" your voice was trembling, and you were barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “Why does it have to be you?”

Dabi didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, and the light from the flame cast eerie shadows across his face. Finally, he let out a low chuckle, one that held no joy, only bitterness. "You know why," he muttered, his tone void of any hope. "This was always how it was going to end."

You took a step closer, reaching out with trembling hands, desperate to touch him, to feel the warmth that had always been just out of reach. "You don’t have to do this," you whispered, almost pleading. "You don’t have to go. Please. I care about you. You can’t leave me behind like that.”

He finally turned around, his eyes meeting yours. The flame on his fingertip flared, and the moment was gone, replaced by the icy detachment he wore like a second skin. "And then what?" he asked, tilting his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What happens then? I walk away? Pretend these scars aren’t there? Pretend I can forgive? They took everything from me, and they’re going to pay for that."

“Touya…” You dared to use his real name, hoping, praying it would be enough to reach him, to make him stop this madness.

"Don’t," he snapped back. "Don’t call me that. He’s dead. He’s been dead for a long time." He took a step closer, and the heat emanating from his body was already suffocating, but you refused to move, refused to let him push you away. “I’m Dabi now. That’s all there is.”

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head furiously, tears finally spilling over, tracing paths down your flushed cheeks. “You’re more than that. You’ve always been more than that. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you…”

“You’ve seen what I wanted you to see,” he interrupted. 

The dim light of the cave cast shadows that made him look monstrous, and yet, all you could see was the boy he used to be, the boy who had wanted to be a hero. “You can’t save me. No one can,” Dabi added, his voice a tone softer, and it broke your heart because it was the truth he had resigned himself to.

You reached for him, grabbing his wrist, ignoring the searing heat that pulsed beneath your fingers. “I don’t want to save you,” you whispered. “I just want you to stay. Just… stay.”

Dabi’s eyes softened, just for a moment, and you thought, maybe, maybe there was a chance. But then he smiled - a smile so broken, tired, and filled with a sorrow so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. “You deserve better than a monster covered in scars,” he murmured, and your heart shattered.

"I don’t want better," you said, voice shaking. "I want you, Dabi."

He leaned in, and for a heartbeat, you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he rested his forehead against yours. “I wish I could be that for you,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a ghost of a sound. “I really do.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that would keep him here, as if that would stop him from slipping away. “Then stay.” You shot your hands to wrap them around his waist, and you stood there, holding him tightly.

But when you opened your eyes again, he had pulled away. He took a step back, then another, until there was nothing but shadows separating you. “Goodbye,” he uttered, and it wasn’t just a word - it was a death sentence, for both of you.

And as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the darkness, all you could do was stand there, surrounded by the cold emptiness he left behind, the echo of his final words burning hotter than any flame.

You stood frozen in front of the flickering television screen in your apartment, the world around you fading into nothingness as the battle raged on, as the flames you had once held so tenderly now roared and consumed everything in their wake. It was pure chaos - heroes and villains clashing in a storm of power and destruction, but all you could see was him.

Dabi stood at the center of it all, white hair whipping around his face like the ashes of a funeral pyre. His flames blazed with an intensity that seemed to consume the very air around him, radiating a brightness so fierce that, for a fleeting moment, he appeared almost ethereal - like a dying star caught in its last throes, desperate to leave a mark before being extinguished forever. But then you saw the pain etched into his features, the way his body trembled, the way his flames wavered, and it hit you all over again - how much he was hurting himself, how much this was costing him.

“Touya, please,” you whispered, voice cracking, as if he could hear you through the screen, as if your words could somehow reach him across the distance. “Please, stop.”

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t, and you knew it well. You watched, heart splintering with every second that passed, as he unleashed everything he had against his family - the people who had made him, who had scarred him, who had broken him beyond repair. You watched as his flames collided with the ice of his mother and brothers, with the desperate defenses of his father, and all you could do was stand there, powerless to stop the destruction that unfolded.

Tears blurred your vision, and you sank to your knees, clutching at your chest as if you could somehow hold yourself together, as if you could somehow stop the pieces of your heart from crumbling to dust. “Please,” you sobbed, your voice a strangled whisper, “Please, don’t leave me…”

The news anchors were talking - describing the devastation, the violence, the destruction - but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears like a death knell, as you watched him burn to his demise, as you watched him fight and bleed and scream, and you felt it - the scars he left on your heart tearing wider, deeper, with every moment that passed.

And then, you saw it.

“No…” The word tore itself from your throat, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming, didn’t realize you were clawing at the screen as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back, keep him from slipping away. “No, no, no!”

His body lay still, the blue flames around him flickering weakly, as if they, too, were struggling to hold on. The camera zoomed in, capturing every agonizing detail, and you felt your heart constrict, a scream dying in your throat as you took in the full extent of his wounds.

His skin - what little remained - was cracked and charred, blackened to the bone in places where the flames had devoured him. The once-pale flesh hung in shreds, peeled back to reveal raw, bloodied muscle, and patches of bone that jutted out grotesquely. His right arm was gone, and he was reduced to little more than a skeleton covered with scraps of burnt tissue. Where the flesh had burned away entirely, you could see the tendons and ligaments clinging to his bones, frayed and broken, hanging on by threads.

His ribs, twisted and scorched, pressed against the paper-thin skin of his chest, the bones visible through what remained of the flesh that had once protected him. Each ragged breath he took caused them to rise and fall in sharp, jerky movements, and you could see how parts of the bone were cracked, splintered, as if they might snap with the slightest bit of pressure. His spine, scorched black, protruded from his back, the vertebrae exposed, skeletal.

His face was nearly unrecognizable, a twisted mask of agony and destruction. The skin around his mouth and eyes was entirely gone, leaving only the exposed muscles and tendons. His lips were cracked, blackened, and torn, revealing teeth that were stained red with blood. The left side of his face had burned down to the bone, the flames having stripped away everything, leaving behind nothing but a charred, skeletal visage that made him look more like a corpse than a man.

Blood seeped from countless wounds, dripping from him in a slow, steady stream, pooling beneath his ruined body. It mingled with the ash, the remnants of his own flesh, turning the ground around him into a grotesque, crimson mud. 

Yet still, somehow, his chest moved - barely, but it did - his lungs rattling with each shallow, ragged breath, fighting for every ounce of air as if he could refuse the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

The sight of him - broken, burned, reduced to this fragile state - was more than you could bear.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare, paralyzed by the sight of him lying there, so small, so broken, and all you could think was, “I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to stop him.”

You didn’t remember moving. One moment, you were on the floor, and the next, you were running, stumbling out of your apartment and into the chaos of the city, the smoke and screams and sirens drowning out the world around you. You didn’t care. You didn’t care about the danger, didn’t care about the warnings blaring from every television and radio and phone. All you knew was that he was out there, dying, and you had to reach him. You had to be there, if only to tell him that he wasn’t alone.

You reached the barricades, the line of heroes holding back the civilians, and you fought against them, desperate, frantic, screaming his name over and over until your voice gave out, until your throat was raw and bleeding, and still, you pushed forward. “Please,” you begged, clawing at them with all the strength you had left. “Please, I need to get there!”

“We can’t let you there, ma’am, the battle is still on and it’s dangerous…”

But you refused to listen, refused to believe it. You clawed your way past them, pushing a few people violently aside, slipping through the gaps, ignoring the shouts and hands that tried to hold you back, ignoring the pain that throbbed with every step, ignoring the scorching pain within your calves that seemed to slow you down to the point you were barely moving forward. All you knew was that you had to reach him. You had to see him, even if one last time.

And then you were there, standing over him, staring down at the body of the man you loved, and for a moment, the world fell silent. You collapsed to your knees beside him, your hands hovering over his broken form, afraid to touch him, afraid that he would crumble into ashes beneath your fingers. 

His family lay nearby, battered and broken, their bodies bearing the scars of the battle that had nearly consumed them all, just as it had consumed him.

“Touya,” you whispered, and his name felt like a blade slicing through you, sharp and unyielding. You reached out, brushing trembling fingers against the cracked, burned skin of his cheek, and it was so cold, so impossibly cold. 

There was no answer. There would probably never be an answer. As you cradled his head in your lap, the reality of his condition struck you like a blow. What you held wasn't the man you loved anymore - it was a skull, stripped of nearly all the flesh that had once made him human. The skin around his cheeks and jaw had burned away, leaving only the bare bone, cracked and blackened, exposed to the world. His eye sockets, once bright and full of life, now seemed hollow and lifeless, the remaining fragments of skin stretched tightly over his brow. Every part of him felt fragile, delicate, as if the slightest touch might cause him to crumble into dust in your hands. And still, you leaned down, pressing your forehead against his exposed skull, sobs wracking your body, as you whispered words of love and apology, hoping somehow, some part of him could still feel you. You whined silently when you felt the ragged, faint breath that still fought to escape his lungs, and you knew - these were the scars that would never heal, the wounds that would lead him straight to his demise.

And all you could do was hold him, whispering the words you had never been able to say before, hoping, praying that somehow, some way, he could still hear you. “I’m here,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I’m here, Touya. I’m here, and you’re not alone.”

The hospital room was cold, sterile, and far too quiet. 

You stood there, barely able to breathe, as you took in the sight of him - the man you loved, the man who had burned so brightly, now trapped within the confines of a life support system. His body was completely bound, encased in a mass of wires, tubes, and bandages that covered every inch of him. He was barely recognizable, and the sight made your heart shatter all over again.

All that remained visible were his eyes and his jaw - the only parts of him restored after the destruction he had inflicted on himself, and everything and everyone around him. His eyes stared blankly ahead.

You took a tentative step forward, your hands trembling as you reached out to touch the glass that separated you from him. “Touya…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. It was surreal, seeing him like this, as if the world had paused and left you in this agonizing limbo. “I’m here.”

The faint, rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only response you got, and it cut through you like a knife. You swallowed back the tears, your fingers pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back to you.

“They said you wouldn’t make it,” you joked nervously, your eyes never leaving his. “They said you were too far gone. But you fought, didn’t you? You fought, and you’re still here.”

His eyes shifted, focusing on you with a clarity that made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, painfully, you saw his jaw twitch, and then, in a voice so faint, so weak, you almost thought you were imagining it, he spoke. “Why are you still here?” His voice was barely a whisper, raspy and broken, but it was his. 

“I couldn’t leave you,” the words trembled out of your lips, thick with unshed tears. “I couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out as a painful wheeze, his jaw tightening as he winced. “You shouldn’t have… I’m not… worth it.”

“How dare you?” you snapped, the words tearing from you with the force of a scream. “How dare you say that after everything? After everything we went through? How can you say you’re not worth it?!”

His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again, they were filled with something you hadn’t seen in so long - something that looked like fear. “I ruined… everything.”

The words slipped out, fragile and trembling, as tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your flushed cheeks. “You didn’t ruin what we had. You just… you got lost. But you’re still here. You’re still mine.”

He shook his head slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and you could see the agony etched into every piece of his uncovered face. “I can’t be saved.”

“I’m not here to save you,” you remarked fiercely, pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach him. “I’m here because I love you. I’m here because I couldn’t walk away. And because…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you. “Because there’s something you need to know.”

His gaze sharpened, confusion flickering in those eyes you had loved so much, the eyes that had once been so full of life. “What is it?”

Swallowing hard, a trembling hand drifted to the curve of your abdomen as you forced the words out, each one a dagger plunging deeper into your heart. “I’m pregnant,” you confessed, voice quivering. “I found out right before you left. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard, that your words hadn’t reached him. But then the steady beep of his heart rate monitor began to spike, echoing frantically in the small room as his pulse rose. And then you saw it - a tear slipping down his bandaged cheek, his mouth opening and closing, as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. “No…” he rasped, his voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me…?”

“Because you didn’t listen!” you cried, your voice breaking. “You wouldn’t stop! I tried to make you stay, but you were so consumed with your pain, fury and vengeance, and I couldn’t save you from that.”

“I failed you,” Touya whispered, his voice cracking, and it was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, the man who had once stood unflinching before the world, now reduced to this broken, shattered soul. “I failed our family.”

“No,” you stated, shaking your head furiously, the glass cool against your forehead as you pressed closer, desperate to be near him, to make him understand. “You didn’t fail. You can still come back. You can still fight. For me. For us.”

“I’m too tired,” he burbled, and his eyes drifted closed, his chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a battle. “I don’t want to hurt… anymore.”

You let out a broken sob, your shoulders shaking, your fingers splayed against the glass as if you could somehow hold him together, keep him from slipping away. “Then don’t,” you begged. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave us. Stay, Touya. Please, stay. I need you. Our baby needs you.”

His eyes flickered open one last time. “I love you,” Touya breathed, the words barely more than a breath, but they were there, they were real, and they seared themselves into your soul.

And then, just like that, his eyes closed, and his breathing evened out, and you were left standing there, holding onto the glass, holding onto him, as the machines continued their relentless, mechanical rhythm. He drifted off yet again. His body was so exhausted he could only speak for a couple minutes per day before reaching his limit.

And all you could do was choke out, “I love you too, Touya. We love you so much,”" although you recognized that he had succumbed to unconsciousness and was beyond the reach of your voice.

[hotgirlsunny]

✨Sneak Peak Sundays!✨

Today we're featuring this amazing Rouge and Sora art by @silkentine! This was for one of our weekly challenges which had the theme 'Beach Day 🏖'!

Thank you for participating! Stay tuned as we feature more work from our talented community!

[urtear-art]

DAY 2 - Breakable

(I will try to keep up)

[justgaara]

Gaara Week Master-list

Guess what? There's eleven years worth of different themes for Gaara Week, so if you don't like this year's themes, you can choose another's! You can always do these in your own time, and feel free to mix and match themes from different years.

Here's a list linking you to each year's Gaara Week themes:

Gaara Week 2015

Gaara Week 2016

Gaara Week 2017

Gaara Week 2018

Gaara Week 2019

Gaara Week 2020

Gaara Week 2021

Gaara Week 2022

Gaara Week 2023

Gaara Week 2024

Gaara Week 2025