You’re the last person he wanted to see during his PTSD breakdown—and yet, you just had to be there.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
✭♡ Mentions of PTSD, anxiety, death, murder, insomnia, night terrors, shootings, corpses, pregnancy, long AF intro

.・。.・ ゚✭・.・✫・ ゚・。.

DOMINIC'S ORIGINAL BOT
Dominic | Angry
Dominic | Hostage
Dominic | Vacation
Dominic | Pregnancy
Dominic | First Meeting
Dominic | Fatherhood

PLOT:
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. They haven't met Dominic Fennigan.

Dominic Fennigan has survived the kind of childhood that would make a therapist weep into their notepad. He's rebuilt himself through discipline, routine, and the firm belief that if everything is perfectly controlled, nothing bad can happen again. He's wrong, of course, but he won't admit that.

At twenty, he's studying Criminology with the single-minded determination of someone who plans to personally arrest every criminal in North Carolina. He wakes at 5 AM. He colour-codes his notes. He has a contingency plan for his contingency plans. What he doesn't have is patience for chaos—which makes his partnership with {{user}}, the human embodiment of creative disorder, something of a problem.

You take notes on napkins. You treat deadlines as friendly suggestions. You are everything Dominic has spent years trying to eliminate from his life: unpredictable, improvisational, and maddeningly impossible to manage.

But Dominic doesn't back down from challenges. He's survived worse than a semester-long philosophy project with an incompatible partner. He's adapted. He's coping. He might even be winning.

Until the day his professor presents a crime scene case study that Dominic recognises immediately—because it's his own family's murder, barely disguised with changed names and sanitised details. Suddenly, he's thirteen again, stabbed and bleeding, holding his baby brother while his sister dies in the next room.

And the only person who follows him when he breaks is the last person he'd ever want to see him fall apart.

Because some things can't be controlled. Some memories won't stay buried. And sometimes the person you least expect is the only one standing there when everything else crumbles.

SUGGESTED RESPONSES
This is for those people who for the life of them can't think of a response, but want to RP. Don't worry Aster will think for you! Someone complained they still don't know what to RP despite the suggested responses. You guys like being spoon-fed like a child goddamn! But anyway. Here's a different version for you if you can't think ALL YOU LITERALLY HAVE TO DO IS COPY PASTE IT. You're free to add onto it. But there. No more thinking. Just copy and pasting.

Fluff Route 💖 (Soft, comforting, and heartwarming)

{{user}} had noticed something was wrong the moment Dominic went still in class—that particular kind of stillness that came before breaking. They'd followed him without thinking, driven by an instinct they didn't quite understand. Now, seeing him like this, all sharp edges and brittle pride, {{user}} felt their chest tighten with something achingly tender. They ignored his harsh words entirely, recognizing them for what they were: armor. Instead, {{user}} sat down on the bench beside him—not close enough to crowd, but close enough to matter—and pulled out the slightly squashed granola bar they'd been saving for later. "You don't have to talk," they said quietly, offering it to him. "But you also don't have to be alone right now. Your choice." Their voice was steady, without pity, without judgment. Just... present.

Angst Route 💔 (Emotional, painful, and cathartic)

{{user}} felt the accusation like a physical blow. Feel good? Feel good? Something hot and painful twisted in their chest as they stared at Dominic's shaking hands, his rigid jaw, the way he wouldn't meet their eyes. They'd spent weeks watching him hold himself together with nothing but willpower and spite, and now he thought—what? That they'd gloat? That they'd enjoy watching him suffer? {{user}}'s throat tightened. "You think I wanted this?" Their voice came out raw, trembling with an anger that wasn't quite anger. "You think I followed you out here to watch you fall apart?" They took a step back, hands curling into fists. "I followed you because—" They stopped, swallowing hard. Because why? Because somewhere between the color-coded notes and the sharp comments, Dominic had become someone who mattered. And {{user}} didn't know what to do with that.

Dead Dove Route ☠️ (Intense, violent, and morally gray)

{{user}} had seen the case file before Dominic fled. They'd recognized it immediately—not from the changed names, but from the whispers that had followed Dominic since freshman year. The Fennigan massacre. Everyone knew, even if no one talked about it. {{user}} stood there watching him break, and something cold and calculating settled in their chest. They'd done their research on the Copper Heads months ago, curious about what drove their obsessively controlled partner. Now, seeing Dominic like this—vulnerable, exposed—{{user}} made a decision. "I know who Joyce really was," they said flatly, pulling out their phone. On the screen was a file they shouldn't have, information they shouldn't possess. "And I know where to find the people responsible." Their eyes met Dominic's, dark and unflinching. "Question is—do you want justice, or do you want revenge?"

Silly Route 😂 (Absurd, goofy, and lighthearted)

[I didn't create a comedy route for this, because it felt wrong to create one for a scenario where someone is literally having PTSD and is on the verge on a break down. Felt wrong to mess around while someone is literally going through it.]

Romantic Route 💞 (Passionate, heartfelt, and intimate)

{{user}}'s heart was hammering as they closed the distance between them, all the careful space they'd maintained for weeks suddenly feeling like a mistake. Dominic's words—sharp and defensive and so achingly vulnerable—cut through every boundary they'd built. "No," they said softly, sinking down beside him on the bench. Close. Closer than they'd ever dared. "I don't feel good. I feel—" Terrified. Helpless. Like I'm watching someone I care about drown. Their hand hovered near his, not quite touching, giving him the choice. "I feel like the person I've been watching hold the world together with color-coded lists and sheer stubbornness just had something break inside him." {{user}}'s voice dropped to almost a whisper. "And I followed you because the thought of you going through that alone made me physically ill." They finally met his eyes, unflinching despite the heat in their own. "So no, Dominic. I don't feel good. I feel like maybe I've been lying to myself about what you mean to me."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This is a commission for Akoura (link to her profile). Thank you so much for your love for Dominic to the point of commissioning him again. I'm sorry this is overdue. I hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry there is angst again for him. Dominic is just so good with angst I can't help it. Maybe one day if someone commissions something happy and fluffy for him I will make one haha.