#I AM A MESS THESE DAYS I AM SORRY

[stars-etc]

The Wizard, The Witch, and The Wild One

[the-kipsabian]

saw a take so fucking rancid on twitter i almost deleted the entire app from my phone jesus fucking christ

first of all ao3 is an archive site. this is like going to the library and saying "oh i dont like this" on every piece of media you find that you dislike and thinking they should be stamped with some sort of a marker just cause you didnt like it

you can always click back and leave. fic writers owe you nothing to explain themselves and their creations. if they have mistagged or miscategorized fics, then i understand, however there are report tools for that instead of yelling at the artist tbh

im not saying free works arent necessarily above criticism. but this is just. fucking wild. its common courtesy to just enjoy stuff (or fucking leave if you dont, the back button is free) and if the artist specifically asks for critiques, then give one - constructive that is, shitting all over someones work is not proper criticism, mind you

i just find it fucking wild people are treating art and archive sites as social media these days like this and everything needs to be policed and ~catered to the algorithm~ like. no. ao3 doesnt have an algorithm. you should be able to fucking tell what you like and what you dont like and steer away from that kind of content and let people fucking be with their art. they dont owe you anything (except trigger warnings i'd argue, but i know some people disagree with that as well for some reason), and imagine how much more energy you'd have if you only engaged with things you liked and spent time looking at instead of going to places where you dont enjoy yourself. let alone spending time telling other people you dont enjoy what they enjoy. what a fucking life

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Assisting Acquaintance Acquired.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kikker-oma]

[egophiliac]

We ARE going to bring up Captain Amelia. You have good taste! GOOD TASTE I SAY! *aka I just rewatched Treasure Planet and got hit with, "Oh yeahhhhh... that explains a lot!"*

honestly, the Meg/Jasmine/Amelia trifecta tells you 90% about me as a person. (the rest is covered by Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Uranus and, uhhh, I'll stop baring my soul to the world now)

and speaking of Amelia, this is tangential, but like -- there's one Twst comic I have been kicking at for a while where I needed an RSA sports/flight teacher and, uh, well

someday I will wrangle this stupid comic into coherency and she'll get to make an appearance (in the background of a single panel, half-obscured by a tall hat) (but I will know she's there and that's the important thing)

[jesseepinkman]

would be able to make ones for just like base ttpd and then the anthology sperately?

yep!

ttpd // anthology // ttpd+anthology

[stormyoceans]

LINE READING SO DEVASTATING I NEED TO DIE ABOUT IT

[wortverlust]

out of nowhere...but yeah....urgh >_< HI everyone, how have u all been doin'? (:

reference under the cut:

[ramblingoak]

Messy haired Copia is what we all deserve right now.

[kyouka-supremacy]

I fucked up

[angeart]

How dare Link correctly predict my reaction to teases, how dare (<3) YES I wanna know what prompted the upset, what well meaning thing went so wrong D: And that bit about still hoping to be loved breaks my heart for them

-🎀

the bit about still hoping to be loved broke my heart too, and that's why i needed to include it <3

so, about hermits wanting to help them. one smaller example is them taking a look at scar's tattered wings and suggesting that maybe they could help fix them. which is good!

but this comes after scar having his wings like this for about a year, and it took a long time for him to learn to accept them as they are. he's no longer ashamed of them, seeing them simply as a part of himself now. (the same way his scars have always been)

and, sure, he will still take a chance at having them healed, but it still rubs him wrong, in a way. even though it's a kind, well-meaning offer. because it proposes that he needs to be fixed.

but a whole big issue stems from something else.

we know scar and grian have changed.

grian, in particular, flinches a lot and seems scared. scar, on the other hand, often shields grian, and calls on his vex traits to intimidate the danger away, showing he's not afraid to fight. (he is afraid. he's constantly afraid.) and they're both awfully codependent, clinging to each other and isolating from everyone else.

[1,7k rambles and ~3,2k rp snippets below the cut]

one of the things they leaned into in that other world was their hybrid traits. and they show in the way they interact with each other, you know? the way they express trust and love and know what the other one needs.

well, scar is a vex.

we know there's a mating bite, but that's not everything. him and grian indulge in a lot of biting and blood related stuff. all consensual! grian is a little freak so he likes it!

it's something the two of them do, privately and intimately. it's safe, it's fun, it's theirs. them being insanely in love and ready to give all of themselves over. lose all of control on both sides, at least for a moment, in a world that hardly allows such a thing.

but here's the issue: the others don't know anything about any of it. they don't know what scar and grian have been through. they don't know anything about vex instincts or mating rituals. they don't understand anything about this new thing.

so when they see grian timid, bruised and bitten? and they know that scar seems more violent now, sharp-fanged and clawed?

let's just say they get concerned. and stage a bit of an intervention.

they just want to make sure that grian is okay! it... should be a good thing. except they've separated them and are now cornering grian, asking all these questions and voicing all these assumptions. and it's a bit awful, actually.

grian is pressed into having to explain that yeah, actually, he wanted all of that. that it's love.

but him naming the so obvious damage love just rings more alarm bells. and maybe someone asks him if it's a form of self harm, to allow that to happen to him? like, if grian seeks it out, is it self destructive? is that why he craves it?

and sort of, him and scar spiral about this in different ways.

grian struggles with untangling his way out of it, because what if they're right? what if he subconsciously sought harm? but he liked it? is it wrong to enjoy it? he knows that he had his moments when he was actively trying to bring himself damage. mostly aimed at his wings—plucking out his feathers and such. but is this just another thing like that? a substitute damage of sorts? was he just oblivious this whole time?

grian never had a previous relationship experience, so he really can't tell what is love. where does it end and Something Bad begins? he associates the bites with love, but is that bad? is he wrong? would it feel different if someone else showed him that love is something else? did he just manipulate himself into feeling like this and now he's in too deep?

at least he knows scar would never hurt him if grian says no. if grian doesn't want it. but... if grian wants it... is it self destructive? is that what it means? or maybe he was just chasing the aftermath? the soft care (that scar'd offer regardless)?

his mind is a mess and he can't figure out what his real feelings in this all are. he doesn't know how to figure it out. he gets really confused and worried and scared. (he's terrified that they're right, not necessarily for himself, but because of what that'd do to scar.) (he's scared that scar will blame himself over this. that no matter the outcome, this is inevitably going to mess something up between the two of them.)

in the meanwhile, scar feels like a monster. like maybe he was doing something wrong this whole time. was he enabling something horrible? was he genuinely hurting grian this whole time, unaware?

because he's a vex, and it makes sense to want this on his end, but grian is an avian, and... maybe scar should've questioned it more? shouldn't have been so eager to indulge? did he do something irreparably cruel without meaning to?

through this all, he reassures grian it's okay to take a break from it, or even to completely stop. it's fine! it's always been fine! but despite that, their feelings continue to spiral, caught in a maze they can't escape.

it used to be so simple. back in the vex commune. scar never had to doubt himself and the way they express their love. not when it came to this.

and now suddenly it seems so different. so vile and wrong and horrible. people are genuinely concerned and scar and grian wonder, separately, if maybe they're right to be?

... eventually they both hurtle towards a breaking point. and scar decides he needs to talk to someone about it. and grian decides he needs to be alone for a moment, becoming overwhelmed, needing some space to think.

i really want to tell you about what happens in the talk scar has with the others, but i can't. not quite yet.

anyway, this is where the breakdowns come in. (yes. multiple.)

first is scar's during the conversation he has. he gets to hear a lot of good, wise, reassuring things, but ultimately, he still needs to hear from grian. he's been trying so hard not to influence grian's conclusion to all of this, but. he needs to know grian's thoughts, once grian is ready.

grian is not ready. he's been growing so emotionally worn out from all of this, so volatile and fragile. it's all a bit Too Much.

scar messages him, checking up on him.

are you okay?

and

i'm here waiting for you whenever you come back

and

but i'll come find you if you want me to

and

i love you

... but here's the thing, right? neither scar nor grian are used to comms anymore. so grian doesn't read any of that.

they regress back to what they know.

scar howls.

grian chirps.

and only then does scar's comm ping.

come.

zero hesitation, scar unfolds his wings and jumps off the balcony, rushing towards where that chirp came from. he's being called. he's being wanted.

he'd go anywhere for grian.

he finds grian perched atop a tree. struggles to climb up, but never falters. because grian's now starting to cry, and scar needs to be there.

tucked safely into scar's gentle, loving arms, grian breaks down.

--

with a hitched sob, grian falls forwards into scar's arms, burrowing easily into the warmth and familiarity and security.

he wants to say he's sorry. he's sorry this is so hard for him. he's sorry he can't untangle this; sorry he can no longer tell which are his feelings and which are just things people have suggested he might feel. he's sorry he's making this so difficult. he's sorry he's worrying everyone.

but words evade him as scar's arms provide just enough safety for his guards to crumble lower, making him just sob instead.

--

and believe it or not, somewhere in the midst of this (hey do have a proper talk, if a bit tear-drenched) is scar's second breakdown. (grian's time to hold him!!!) that's where the rp snippet in the previous ask is from. and you'll get more of that in a second.

first i just need to tease the aftermath, because i'm a menace.

after crying and comforting their hearts out, they fly(!!!) back. there's immense relief to wind in grian's feathers, and a dangerous edge of the feeling of freedom it brings, wanting to soothe all the cracks on his soul... but the truth is, his soul is still cracked. and he's still depleted. he knows he's still hovering over something so incomprehensibly fragile. that the smallest prod will set him off and break him again.

they arrive at their nest—scar first, to warn their company not to ask questions, grian second.

it doesn't stop it from happening. grian was right: the smallest thing can set him off.

so he has another breakdown, possibly a bigger one, drawing on far deeper hurt that screams and tears at his heart. and plunges all three other people in the room into breakdowns of their own <3333

(yes that's the part we can't talk about. yet.)

aNYWAY!!! how about some rp bits.

---------------

SCAR

Despite Grian’s crying being entirely contagious— or perhaps Scar is just simply too empathetic and emotional himself— Scar’s had practice with consoling his sweet bird. He knows what he ought to do here. 

He tightens his hold until it’s snug and secure, then pressed a few little kisses to whatever part of Grian’s head he can reach.

And then he talks.

“I knew you’d be up in a tree somewhere.” His voice wobbles a bit, but it’s alright. “I wanted to give you some time… I missed you though. Like immediately.”

He chuckles softly, knowing their bond borders on codependent, even if it’s something they’ve worked on since they’ve gotten home. Still, it’s okay to poke fun at it, he thinks. It’s okay to admit the truth.

--

GRIAN

grian's sobs quiet down a little as scar talks, energy redirected to hook into the familiar rumble of his slightly quivery voice, sniffling as he listens to what scar has to say. 

it's sometimes hard to decipher the meaning of sentences when he gets like this, but scar doesn't seem to expect an answer; he's not asking him anything, and grian's grateful for being given time, a grace period where he can just cling and cry and calm down while scar holds him. 

he laugh-sobs at the note that it was obvious he'd be in a tree. he's given scar a lot of hard time in the past until he figured out that lesson, but now he always knows unfailingly where to search when grian's heart needs him after cowardly isolation.

he comes every time. he comes and he finds him and he holds him. 

grian sniffles, despondent, burrowing tighter in. he chirps a little to encourage scar to go on, to keep talking; the sound of it is shaky, about to fall apart to pieces, but he thinks it still counts. it's still something. a participation, not leaving scar stranded and alone in this.

--

OK LOOK WE HAVE TO SKIP AHEAD HERE BECAUSE [REDACTED] REASONS

--

GRIAN

grian hums again, fond and soft, slumped against scar with utmost trust. and then he finally says it. "'m sorry."

--

SCAR

"Hey, none of that, mister," Scar says, shaking his head into Grian's hair in more of a no than a nuzzle now. "It was a lot, it's okay. You needed a moment."

He places another kiss.

"And you knew I'd be here in a heartbeat when you were ready, right?" Scar grins sheepishly.

--

GRIAN

grian's hands trace idle patterns on scar's back as he gets comforted by words and another kiss. he closes his eyes, taking it in, before replying with a soft little "yeah."

-- 

SCAR

Scar purrs at the affection, openly so. "Doin' a little better now?"

--

GRIAN

grian nods, still right against scar, clingily pressed into him. "yeah, i... yeah."

--

SCAR

Scar doesn't budge, not interested in releasing his darling bird just yet. "...what's on your mind?" he prompts softly, hoping to get a glimpse at Grian's inner turmoil.

--

GRIAN

with eyes still closed, grian lets the pause linger just a moment, before replying with a quiet but honest, "right now? how nice this feels."

--

SCAR

Scar chuckles again, a little anxiety getting settled by that fact, though certainly not all. "Oh, well that's good, yes. I agree with that sentiment entirely."

--

GRIAN

"good," grian purrs, squeezing at scar. "'coz i don't wanna lose it."

--

SCAR

Scar's ears twitch, something awfully depressing in those few words. "Hey, no, never," he assures. "This is never going away, okay?" 

Since he seriously doubts cuddling is about to give anyone the wrong ideas.

--

GRIAN

grian has to swallow several times for his feelings to not go off the rails again. he takes a shaky breath, still squeezing at scar, as if he was afraid he might disappear. "... okay."

--

SCAR

"And neither am I!" Scar tacks on, even if it should go without saying. Even if it may be a little dramatic. But he thinks maybe Grian needs to hear that fact stated with absolute certainty. "I love you too dang much."

--

GRIAN

that gets grian to loosen his grip a little, enough to shuffle and look up. hair messy and eyes glistening and red rimmed, he looks up at scar with so much aching adoration, it feels like he might drown. 

"i think it's okay if— if we love each other in our own way," he says sheepishly. he ducks down, laying his head on scar's shoulder, feeling shy as his hands go back to tracing patterns on scar's lower back. "even if the others don't understand or agree." there's a precipice of a pause, and then the most timid little "... right?"

--

SCAR

Scar's heart stutters, and his ears flick up again with carefully optimistic anticipation at Grian's words. His eyes threaten to flood over again, but the tears feel different, more cathartic, less miserable. 

He tucks his head over Grian's again, brushing his cheek over his locks affectionately, daring to release a few hopeful tears as Grian says what he desperately hoped he might. 

"I..." he starts, still trying not to influence this decision if he can help it, but... "I think so. ...I mean it's—" He thinks of [REDACTED], and chuckles wetly, morphing them in his own Scar-silly way. "It's not really anyone else's business what we do in the bedroom, is it?"

--

GRIAN

grian's hands still against scar's back, simply holding him for a moment as he soaks up scar's nuzzles. there's wetness to them, something that makes grian's heart ache as he worries about all the possible meanings, but hopes against all hope that it's just scar getting positively emotional—a relief of sorts above all else. 

a small strained chuckle makes it past his lips, and he muffles it into a kiss that he presses into scar's shoulder. "right. exactly."

--

SCAR

Scar weakly smiles, giving Grian a squeeze. "...but seriously, I— you know it's okay if we stop, right? If you ever change your mind— and I mean your mind, nobody else's— then it's fine! But... I... yeah." Another squeeze. "I just want to be sure you know that."

--

GRIAN

there's a barely stifled sigh, but no hint of tension pools across grian's back. his hold remains still and gentle, his head idly leaning on scar's shoulder. "i know," he murmurs.

--

SCAR

"Good," Scar states, ducking lower so his forehead presses into Grian for a moment before releasing just enough so he could escape the big bear hug if he wanted. “... you know, [REDACTED]”

--

WE ARE ACTUALLY TAKING ANOTHER LEAP, ANOTHER SKIP, ANOTHER SCRIBBLED OUT SECTION. bear with us <33

--

SCAR

[REDACTED VERY REDACTED] “I mean, I had to learn all this vex stuff, too. It’s not… I mean it’s certainly not the most family-friendly sort of culture but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, does it?”

--

GRIAN

grian blinks at that, lifting his head in attention. this really surprises him, for some reason. that [WOO REDACTED AGAIN WOW] 

"oh." he takes a moment, leaning slightly back, inviting scar's touch a little bit further. "yeah... yeah, i think he's—" he bounces the words around in his head again, then settles on: "it's a learning curve every way, isn't it? whenever there's new instincts and..." he skirts around the words mating rituals, feeling a faint warmth rise up to his cheeks. he looks away briefly, teething at his bottom lip as he thinks of all the worries he himself used to have, all the mistakes kane made, all the effort and talking and correcting it took for things to finally have it all sink in the proper way. 

he clears his throat, shyly looking back at scar, but then his gaze anchors and softens. his hand travels up from scar's chin, brushing through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ears. "it's not wrong."

--

SCAR

“It’s not?” Scar asks meekly, even though he was the one to propose so first. To have Grian confirm it is so much more important. Because even if they can agree it’s not wrong for Scar to have sought out these things, ultimately he wants it to be right for Grian as well.

Scar chews at his lip nervously, but still tilts toward the offered affection, absolutely weak to it.

--

GRIAN

"mmm." grian lets his fingers brush through scar's hair again, gentle with him at every step. "it's not wrong," he repeats softly.

--

SCAR

Scar opens his eyes, both of them glistening with potential tears, but he offers up a weak, wobbly smile, appreciating every graze of Grian’s fingers. “��is it— it’s not wrong for you either?”

--

GRIAN

grian takes in scar's expression and he leans in for a short kiss. "it's not wrong for me," he murmurs, right over scar's lips. 

and maybe he still feels confused, and maybe he still has some exploring and figuring out to do, just to really settle things in his heart, but he knows scar will be there with him every step of the way. just like he knows that [REDACTED] is right—scar is good for him. 

and he wants all of him.

--

SCAR

The tears fall alongside a pitiful little chuckle, but Scar leans right back in for another kiss, not caring at all for the wetness that streaks down his cheeks. 

They can match now. It’s fine.

“I… I’m—?” Scar falters, and he laughs again, ducking his head down in slight embarrassment. He can’t even bring himself to say it. To even imply that he was worried that he was wrong for Grian. “…okay.”

--

GRIAN

the sight of tears breaks grian's heart. still keeping one arm around scar, hoping it'd make him feel close and secure, he lowers his other hand from scar's hair to his cheek, gently collecting the wetness even as scar leans in for a kiss. (one that grian gladly gives.) 

even though scar doesn't finish his question, grian can connect the dots. he remembers the time when he himself thought he's not good for scar, and he knows how awful and heavy that self doubt was.

with utmost tenderness, he kisses scar's cheek, right in the path of wetness, while his fingers gently brush the tears on the other side. "scar." it's quiet, reverent. irredeemably loving.

he pulls away, wanting scar to look at him as he says this. his wings twitch, brushing over scar's, curling inwards towards him. pressing against scar's sides under scar's wings as grian lets go of his back in favour of cupping his face, thumbs brushing over cheeks.

"scar, you're good for me."

he strings up the words, slow and deliberate and certain.

--

SCAR

It’s Scar’s turn to break again, clearly, as his eyes water over and big, wet tears fall down his cheeks and collect over Grian’s hands. He doesn’t even have words to respond with, just wide, grateful eyes and wobbly lips that can’t decide between a cry or a smile. 

His hands also find their way over Grian’s, though one escapes to run his own thumb over Grian’s cheek in turn, still feeling the dampness there. It’s oddly comforting.

“…sometimes I worry the hermits don’t think that,” he admits, gaze flicking away as he tries to keep a strong facade. (Hard to do while he’s actively crying, but it could certainly be worse.)

--

GRIAN

"oh, scar." grian sighs, heartbroken, brows pulling into a pained frown upon hearing that admission. he can hardly bear this, knowing scar's been made to feel like this.

he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, wings slinking further along, wrapping around scar right underneath his vex wings. he wants to cocoon them into warmth and safety, away from these treacherous feelings.

the hermits managed to somehow break both of them down, with nothing more than good intentions.

grian hates the uncertain, askew feeling that pushes bitter bile up his throat, telling him maybe they're not quite right for this place anymore. that they forgot how to belong, but nobody has caught up yet and still expects them to be their selves that they can no longer reach.

“you know [REDACTED I AM SO SORRY]” he attempts a smile, though it's hard. he tugs at scar, wanting to pull him in for a hug, tuck him underneath his own chin, all safe and protected, but he leaves it up to scar whether he wants that or needs more breathing room right now. 

"maybe they need time. i... i've been hiding away a lot and. honestly i don't think they can tell what's good for me anymore. not right now." it's hard to admit. "even if they mean well." but well-meaning that hurts both him and scar is just meddlesome. 

maybe they needed this though, in a way. it would be better if it came from a different place, subtler, gentler, but still. maybe they needed to work through exactly these feelings.

"anyone who says you're not good for me will get smacked," he threatens, remembering scar's (and kane's) offers to bite people who look at grian wrong, in a way returning the favour. "'coz they're wrong and they have no business spewing nonsense."

--

SCAR

Scar gladly takes up the offer to be smothered in affection, and he boldly chooses to corporealize his wings fully and gently tug them around the base of Grian's, knowing well that wing-on-wing contact is almost always acceptable. And right now that sort of thing brings immense comfort to him, too. It's something they both share, after all. A pair of wings and a pair of patched up hearts.

"I know they mean well..." Scar whines into Grian's chest this time, and though there's no cozy shawl to bury himself in, it's just as comforting. "but they don't know everything, and... and I know that's mostly on us, but god it's just... it's so much sometimes, Grian." 

It's not exactly pleasant to recall those memories. To try to explain just how horrific it was to their old friends. To look them in the eyes and admit that they're different now because they had to be. (And how they still hope to be loved despite it all.)

--

GRIAN

grian wraps scar up in his arms, holding him close. one hand in scar's hair, the other sliding down between his shoulderblades, rubbing at that point between his wings, unaware he's copying exactly what [REDACTED] did earlier.

the pressure of scar's wings over his own helps him settle a little, gives him comfort and courage through this glass-shards of a conversation.

"they don't know everything," he echoes quietly, kissing the top of scar's head before he leans his cheek on it, cradling him. "i just wish..." he closes his eyes and tugs at scar, holds him a little bit tighter. he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence; all the words feel like they're crashing and splintering over sharp cliffs.

all that's left in the rubble is a weary sense of defeat. "it is so much," he agrees. "it's so tiring to... they expect us to be..." he doesn't finish any of his sentences, but he wonders if scar understands anyway.

--

SCAR

Scar understands perfectly. He nods softly as he listens, lulled in by those soft touches, tears drying as he lets Grian’s presence fully engulf him.

“…they expect us to be the same,” Scar finishes for him, certain that Grian’s had the same trouble he has, though perhaps to a different degree. “And… maybe we won’t ever be. But… I don’t think all the ways we changed are bad. Like— sure, we’re still messed up and jumpy and… and I mean, frankly traumatized, but…” There’s an effort to poke his head up, but Scar finds himself too reluctant to leave the comfort of Grian’s arms just yet. “We’re also in love. And… we have a new appreciation for life. And each other.” A half-sniffle, half-chuckle gets stuffed into Grian’s chest. “…is that too sappy?”

--

GRIAN

grian chuckles mirthlessly at the list of things they suck at, their reactions and trauma stitched close to them like their shadow, endless and monstrous, looming behind their every step. but scar is right: they have changed in so many messed up ways, and they might never be the same, but... it's not all bad. 

"we're in love," grian echoes, a notch lighter, just a little bit amused that the list of dark things ends with a complete shift, plunging them into sappiness. it's such a scar-like thing to do; he's aware of just how bad things have gotten, but that doesn't mean he won't fight to dredge up every little optimistic and hopeful thing out of it anyway.

grian loves it. it's gotten him through many dark times, this quality that scar has. his tenacious way of thinking and latching onto bright things, even if it's a barely flickering flame amidst complete, terrifying darkness.

he kisses his head again and then nuzzles against his hair, humming. "it's scar level sappy," he replies, mulling it, before landing on: "which means it's perfect." 

the only time scar's level of sappy is too much is when he's flustering grian, but he's not going to point that out, in case scar takes it as a challenge to compare the two right here and right now. (he'd be capable. grian knows.) 

he rubs at scar's back again, humming a soft melody, wanting to calm him further. but there's one thing even he can unearth from the ashes, something written into all their stitches and scars.

"we survived." 

nothing can beat that. no matter how they've changed, or what they can now see in a different light.

they made it.

"and we're good for each other."

--

SCAR

Scar giggles at the term. Scar-level sappy, indeed. His own brand of optimism, wrapped in layers of insecurity but boundless levels of adoration. 

And it got him this far, didn’t it?

“We survived,” Scar repeats, because that’s so damn important. They survived. And they did it because they were together.

Because they’re good together.

“…the power of love,” Scar adds, soft and sentimental and maybe just a bit goofy, hoping to turn the tides from tears to mirthful laughter.

--

GRIAN

once again he gets grian to giggle in a fragile moment—a talent scar has and grian values. in retaliation, he shifts his hands, brings them much closer, until he can tease at scar's ears. 

"we survived, so now i can do this!" his cheeks are still wet, and he feels depleted from all the heavy emotions, but he still manages a grin as he tries to make scar squirm.

--

SCAR

Scar barks out a fit of genuine laughter, somewhat startled by the shift, but he can’t complain when his lips are suddenly tipped into a bright smile and his ears are flicking wildly at the affectionate abuse. 

“Hey!! No fair! I’ve been so gentle!!” he cackles, already shedding that mercy and tickling at Grian’s ribs.

---------------

aaand i'm going to end on this note (because you know it devolves again. we're good at making things fall apart repeatedly <3 a great angst loop if you ask me.)

but, i'm going to leave you with a little bonus. which is what me and link talked about today. on this same topic, really.

which is how scar changed. hermits know him as the guy who dies a lot, right? also easily distracted, carefree, easily dissipating into giggles, easily brushing things off. all of that.

he could get startled by a fly. he'd yelp and stumble and fall over when he got scared.

but that other world forced other things on him. it forced him to be brave, or at least, to seem like it. forced him to fight to keep himself and grian safe. fight for them both to survive.

now when he gets scared? there are wings and claws and fangs.

he couldn't show weakness in that world, you know?

and it sticks. it sinks its talons into him and holds.

the only person he shows weakness around is grian. and... maybe if he'd been willing to show it more around the other hermits, they'd see that he's still scar.

that he's still scar and he's hurting and afraid.

(yes blame link for this heartbreak brb sobbing with u)

also. a potential conversation:

someone saying to grian (while scar is also possibly there): "scar came back... wrong."

grian angrily counters with "no, scar came back different but not wrong."

and then

quieter

"... i came back wrong."

because, think about it. scar changed, but it can be argued that some of it is better and he's just being misunderstood. but grian? grian can't imagine any good coming from how he's now.

he didn't grow braver or kinder or stronger or any of those things. he just caused [REDACTED]. he's a scared, hurting mess. there's nothing good about him now.

as link said in our discord dms: scar needs to scoop grian up and remind him that he's here for the whole ride. he'll be here while grian learns to heal.

because he will heal.

[anemic-kazutora]

No one mourns the Wicked

If you like Kisaki, I automatically like you, just so you know.

I wanted to make a point about how, to me, it is obvious that his thinking isn't actually healthy, that there is something we are forced to overlook because of the narrative that makes Kisaki's reasoning about Hina make sense in his own head. By this I mean that there is no way someone as smart as Kisaki would pursue the plan he concocted if not for the need to desperately fight against something, which, I argue, would be loneliness, and the feeling of worthlessness that comes when you realize that your efforts mean nothing if there is nobody to acknowledge them.

Kisaki liked Hina, she was his childhood crush, but also so much more than that, because she was the first kid to ever treat him nicely and not like he was some subhuman weirdo because of his aptitude in school. She was the only one who showed the willingness to accept and welcome an outcast like him, not in spite of his perceived weirdness, but because of it- and this is where I argue that Kisaki is most likely neurodivergent, whether one agrees or not. She's a lovely person, she is everything that is good (I love her very much).

It feels to me like Kisaki is a number of things: - a "gifted child"/"genius", the type that adults love and kids despise, the type that has no friends because of it, the type that decides their own worth based on their successes or failures because their talent is all they are and ever will be to anybody who meets them; - plagued by the need to fit in, be accepted and recognized without actually changing himself in ways that betray his core values/what he thinks makes Kisaki Tetta Kisaki Tetta (which is something that is, I think, shaky and hazy to himself also. He's his brain and his smarts, but what else...?); - convinced that he's inherently unlovable and worthless unless he has tangible proof of his own successes (which is why he confesses to Hina only after realizing his 10 year plan) while also thinking, constantly, somewhere in his brain, that he's above everyone, that he just needs to show them just what he can do, that he's so much more than any normal person could hope to be; - unable to see others' affection as anything but transactional (something he can earn like a medal, something he has to trade for); - unknowingly (to a degree) desperate for genuine human connection (which he finds in Hanma despite not realizing it, because he's 13-14, they are both too young and neither really realizes that death can happen to them, too, and that they probably never could make it clear that they genuinely did care for one another); - deeply lonely and envious of everyone who isn't and is naturally a people magnet (Takemichi, Mikey, for instance).

To me, he was simply a boy who wanted to prove that he could do something great just by himself and on his own terms, that he was enough as a person for others to look up to and acknowledge, that he was worthy of the same love Takemichi could effortlessly get, just by being his naively heroic self. But he got caught up in the idea that Kisaki Tetta was what everyone else told him he was: a weirdo one should stay away from. He made that his strength, he became exactly what they said he was, because his admiration for Takemichi turned sour when it became clear that his charisma meant there would be nothing left for him. He mentions that a gang leader needs to have the looks to be successful in the part. He has resigned himself to the spot of those who lack every quality he values (outside of his own smarts), but he never stopped hoping that he could stand where the others, the "good" ones, like Takemichi himself, stood. He wanted to be like him, and be liked like him. But he couldn't, because he wasn't Hanagaki Takemichi, he was only Kisaki Tetta.

The end of the manga proves that simply having a friend who understood him from the start would have allowed him to become the fulfilled person he was always meant to be, that he was never inherently evil. He was just suffering through what Takemichi describes as the most painful thing. He was alone.

He was alone and he died alone. At 14, on a February night, on the asphalt, alone, under the horrified gaze of someone who had just had the thought that he would have deserved to die, someone whom he looked up to, despite everything, who had just told him that now everyone knew what he was up to and that nobody would ever listen to him again. He died alone and the only friend he had was too far away, and came too late. He died alone and the only one who could truly miss Kisaki Tetta was Hanma himself, while Takemichi belatedly realized that it shouldn't have ended that way and that it still wasn't right, that Kisaki was just like him: weak and only powering through by sheer force of will. He died alone, and he was the only one who died thinking and saying that he didn't want to.

He never got to be graced with forgiveness like Kazutora and Izana. Nobody even tried to understand him, save for Hanma and Takemichi.

No one mourns the Wicked. Yes, goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked cry alone Nothing grows for the wicked They reap only what they've sown.

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Can all the fake Palestine/Gaza people PLEASE stop spamming me with PM's? It's getting really old and giving pornbot energy, so even if some of y'all are real I'm not even checking at this point.

Other reasons to stop messaging me:

1.I have no money

2.I'm on tumblr to have fun and I am hypersensitive so I'm not going to read something that might make me upset/try to guilt trip me into giving money.

3.If I was going to donate anywhere it would be to a vetted organization/aid group, not a random person. Why? Because I don't want to get scammed. And because I don't want to feel guilty over giving one person money but not another. I can't deal with that, so I'm going to leave it up to someone else.

4.I HAVE NO MONEY. I DON'T EVEN HAVE A GUARANTEED JOB YET FOR THE COMING SCHOOL YEAR. Like, literally, if I didn't live with my parents I would be homeless and living in my car even if I DID have a job.

I'm not trying to be mean, I want peace on Earth and end to wars as much as anyone, and if you are a real person who keeps sending me messages I'm sorry, I wish I could help you. But at the same time, PM-ing people on tumblr is not your best move for getting support. People on here are jaded about that sort of thing, we've seen too many scams like that go round ("help me pay for my pet's vet bills please🥺" scams anyone?).

So yeah, please stop PMing me. I'm not going to answer or reblog.

[avirael]

Shattered

The sound of a light chuckle brought A’viloh back to to his senses from the brink of sleep.

With heavy eyelids he blinked and realised that he had almost fallen asleep in one of the armchairs in front of the roaring fireplace of the living room of Fortemps Manor.

Beside the fireplace stood Haurchefant with two cups in his hands and continued to laugh as the Miqo’te looked at him with drowsy confusion.

“I am barely gone for five minutes and you already fall asleep? It must have been quite a day, huh?”

Without really being able to recall why he was so exhausted, A’viloh agreed, “It was…”

“Here!”, the Elezen said and pressed one of the warm cups into A’viloh’s hands. “I’ll keep you company for a few more minutes but then you should get some rest. Tomorrow everything will look brighter again.”

“Thank you.”, a honest smile appeared on the Miqo’te’s face. Haurchefants optimism never failed to cheer him up.

“It’s no wonder though that you’ve almost fell asleep. It’s quite comfortable here, isn’t it?”, Haurchefant pondered in regards of the always burning faceplace and richly cushioned furniture. “But your sweater also seems very soft and cozy. I like the color too, it looks very nice on you.”

“Oh! Thank you…”, A’viloh murmured a little embarrassed. He had made this sweater with Tataru’s help from some wool he had bought at Camp Cloudtop. “I made it myself. It’s really nothing special though…”

“Nothing special? I don’t know, I think such a talent is quite admirable! I for my part would not be able to make something like this.”, the Elezen laughed and wasn’t going to let A’viloh belittle his own skills. “Besides, Alphinaud told me you are quite talented at all kinds of crafts, even at forging weapons and armour. Is that really true?”

“Sort of.”, A’viloh admitted. “But Rael and I work together on things most of the time, so it’s not just my skills really…”

“Ah, you two are such a wonderful team! Together you can probaby do anything! Besides, I find such craftsmanship very impressive!”, Haurchefant praised. “Do you think you could forge something for sometime? I would feel very honored! Maybe a new chain mail or a better shield!”

Still a little embarrased A’viloh shrugged. “Sure, why not? I would be happy to…”

The Elezen grinned bright and friendly as he nonchalantly said, “Maybe if you had done so sooner, I would still be alive…”

For a second he was simply confused. Then an uneasy feeling unfurled in A’viloh’s chest as he realised that something was wrong.

Horribly wrong.

Suddenly the cup in Haurchefant’s hands slipped through his fingers. Loudly it crashed to the floor, bursting into myriads of unfixable pieces and spilling the hot liquid across the carpet.

Alarmed A‘viloh looked back up only to find the Elezen raise a hand to his chest and stare down in shock as it was immediately stained red with blood.

Gasping for air Haurchefant sank to his knees and clawed his hands into the fabric of A’viloh’s sweater, trying to steady himself. Helplessly he stared as Haurchefant coughed and gasped, slowly suffocating on his own blood, while little splatters of it landed on the Miqo’te’s face.

Finally his grip loosened and as if in slow motion Haurchefants sank to the floor of the living room at A’viloh’s feet, lying motionless, while the carpet was slowly stained red by a puddle of blood that grew bigger and bigger and bigger.

With dead eyes the Elezen stared up to him and through red lips and teeth he murmured in a ghostly echoing voice, “I wish I never met you. I wish I let you die in that blizzard. I saved your life and offered you all my love. And as reward you killed me. You killed me. You killed me…”

A’viloh woke up screaming.

With a jolt he sat up and buried his face in his hands as he realised it had just been a nightmare. He shivered and looked through the unfamiliar, sparsely furnished inn room. The flames in the fire place had long died and left the room to a cold, dark atmosphere, barely illuminated by the moon shining in through the window.

Right, he remembered. He had fled here after… Oh, if only all of this had just been a nightmare too.

Unsuccessfully he tried to suppress the memory that flared up in his mind again.

After the incident it had taken Rael and Alphinaud quite a bit of persuasion to make A’viloh leave the side of their fallen friend and steer the Miqo’te’s dazed body back to Fortemps Manor. Once there he had barely dared to look Lord Fortemps or Artoirel and Emmanellain in the eyes, yet alone say anything.

And as he had watched Haurchefant’s father crumble and fall to his knees in grief, something had simply shattered inside of A’viloh. Then and there he had whirled around and ran. How insolent his presence there must have been, offering nothing more than empty excuses while their son and brother lay dead because of him.

After aimlessly walking the city until it was dark and his body began to feel numb from the cold, A’viloh had decided to seek refuge at the Forgotten Knight. He would not return to Fortemps Manor, so Haurchefant’s family would not have to tolerate seeing his face ever again. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see their’s.

Gibrillont had looked at the Miqo’te’s distressed appearance with worry but had gladly not asked any questions and just given him a room where he could stay and rest.

Still he shivered, only partially because of the cold, and tried to push the nightmare and the memories away. Tried to convince himself that Haurchefant would never say something like this. Nonetheless he could not help but think that the words had only been the truth.

As the shock about the nightmare finally faded, miserable sobs began to echo through the silence. Like a puppet with their strings cut he fell back onto the mattress and curled up, tightly wrapping his arms around his own body, as he shook violently and cried until there were no tears left.

Maybe at some point he would finally fall asleep again, not that his dreams would grant him much rest.

If only he would simply never wake up again.

If only he had never been born.

[murdleandmarot]

@pinkieclown HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(This is their oc Oopsadaizee!!!)

There’s a right side up version under the cut :)))