#griefandpunishment

[youngrevolutionary]

[; ill give you $20 to rebrand as misplacedddramatics ]

... so basically $14.

No sale :v

[thejackalsden]

@griefandpunishment​

     All he could think of after all this time, was home. Was returning. Was finding the other and begging forgiveness. How far astray had the darkness taunted him? How long had it been since feet walked along all too familiar cobbled paths. Even as that ache in his chest blossomed once more, he couldn’t help but look about Radiant Garden, marveling at how it had been restored almost to the exact same; the Light’s doing, or perhaps someone else’s, with an eye for detail and an anal habit for perfection?

     It’s why he’s so hesitant to follow the directions he’d been given. Even if he’d lost the tattered clothes, even if he’d gone back to his roots, what would He think? That deep blue vest and the one sided duster - hiding scars and imperfections, the jagged scar like lightning down his arm, and that silver Fenrir head on his shoulder. The wolf he had been as a healer. He had returned to his roots, best he could. He never was one for bright colors, but the black he could work with.

     He just feared the reaction his Guard would have, did the lion even miss him? Cloud didn’t know if his heart - laughable as it was, did he even have it back? Is that what this sudden ache was in his chest? Or was it just memories and fear that gnawed its way up his spine? How could he even face Him without knowing the truth...

     He’d left them all behind. Tifa, Aerith, Leon, Cid...There was no telling what was going to happen should he run into the others first. He’d specifically asked for His whereabouts. He ached, pined even, and those gloved hands clenched at his sides. His sword had been set aside, left somewhere safe, he didn’t want to look like a threat, and idle hands were uncertain. He wasn’t as well known - sure, the particularly spiked blonde hair and blue eyes were unmistakable from old stories of the Healer, but he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, far too intent on the door he was staring at.

     A gloved hand raising, and how every single last nerve begged him to turn and bolt, to just go back to hiding, but no. He couldn’t. He had to know, and knuckles rapped on the door, loud, firm. No going back now. Instead, he steeled himself, and after a pause, he called through the door, unable to help how everything spun when lips parted to talk, “Leon?” There’s no mistaking his voice, the faintest of tremors in it as he tries to steady himself and prepare as best he can for the rejection he fears.

[wordsfromadiamondrose]

📖💫 Poetry to help with Grief 💫📖

Khalil Gibran, The Prophet: "On pain"

(.......It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.....)

2. Emily Dickinson, "Hope"

(.....“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops - at all........)

3. Maya Angelou, "Caged Bird"

(........But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and   

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing......)

4. Langston Hughes, "Life is fine"

(.....So since I'm still here livin',

I guess I will live on.

I could've died for love—

But for livin' I was born....)

5. Lucille Clifton, "won't you celebrate with me"

(......here on this bridge between

starshine and clay,

my one hand holding tight

my other hand; come celebrate

with me that everyday

something has tried to kill me

and has failed......)

Be in love with yourselves,

Rose 🌹

[sunny-explosions]

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your pity.”

Squall’s comment and the way he tries to turn away from her do absolutely nothing to faze her, and Selphie simply moves to his other side and kneels down, looking him over to try to see the extent of the damage - whether he wants her to or not.

“How did this even happen?” She asks, already holding her hand out to send a Curaga his way before he can protest. “You don’t have any broken bones, do you?”

[badassbarmaid]

I can offer an angsty manchild.

Tifa welcomes all angsty folks into her embrace for LUFF.

[livelyfellow]

griefandpunishment replied to your post: Anonymous // What kind of porn is Zell into? ...

(I shouldnt be laughing as hard as I am at the idea that glares are his kink)

Honestly, I have so many GLARE icons, I MIGHT AS WELL make it canon. 

[guidingkey]

sora voice: mY sHIP!! NOT MY SHIP!!!!!!!!!!

They can take your world. They can take your heart. Cut you loose from all you know. But if it’s your ship, then every crab forward will always be a crab closer to home.  

[savethequccn]

@griefandpunishment replied to your post:

sora vc: YOU HAVE FEATHERS its bot you were walking around -plucked-

  ❝ well it’s not like were were walking around without any clothes ! ❞  

[wayfiind-a-blog]

griefandpunishment replied to your post: trying to draw modern verse aqua and i can’t...

Turtle neck blouse with cold shoulder sleeves owo

you my friend are a genius !!

[thebluexorcist]

griefandpunishment replied to your post: thetxickster replied to your post: ...

I guess I should be hornoured that you chose me to bestow such a captainvating joke.

You really shoehorned that pun in— FUCK I DID IT TO MYSELF

[temperedbydarkness]

@griefandpunishment

Sora had told him about the restoration committee. He had nothing but praise for the individuals of Radiant Garden that were working hard at making the city a livable place again after the darkness had almost consumed it. Riku had heard good things. 

But it didn’t stop his guilt from freezing him when he got to the door itself. He had questions that they might be able to answer and thus he wanted to speak to them... but his former position with Maleficent and as puppet of Ansem put him in an awkward position. Did they know? Would they (rightly) throw accusations at him? Would he even be able to speak with them long enough to get anything, or would he be thrown back out? Riku wasn’t even sure if they would recognize who he was, or if they’d be simply confused as to why this silverette was standing at their door.

Nervously he reached up and rubbed around his eyes, fingers ghosting along scars that marked up his face around his eyes. Kairi might be here somewhere, and Lea also. This was supposedly where Merlin had his home? Why, why was he so afraid to even traverse that last step? Sora and Kairi had forgiven him before-   -But could they forgive him again for his compounded mistakes?

He had to try. So-- Arias had urged him to go see his friends, and some of them were here. With this committee. Finally, he shoved one hand into the long black leather coat he still sometimes wore and reached for the handle. Was anyone even home?

[youngrevolutionary]

@griefandpunishment​ // rough cheek dividing sounds very painful 0/10 .....   suddenly realising 3/4 limit breaks can be made into gay innuendo    Shut up.  

“Don’t you start else I’m gonna have to go full on No Mercy™ on your ass.”

Rethinks that last sentence--

“Squall, you’re ass is overdue for a whuppin’, let’s go.”

[thejackalsden]

@griefandpunishment

     It never failed, between jobs Cloud always ended up in the usual spot. Squall’s home had become just as much his as any other place, and it was easy for Cloud to slip inside. Shorter than the other, those ears finally relaxed from where they had been pinned against his skull. They swiveled forward, straining for any sign of his Knight that he could pick up.

     Even the tail had shifted, no longer jagging back and forth, irritated and snippy. It was content to flick behind him, a lazy drift back and forth as blue eyes lidded and he looked for that reckless Knight of his, “Squall,” a call into the basement, looking for where he was. Normally they weren’t far from each other, but perhaps he had been intent on stopping around town. Who knew, knowing Squall.

     Instead, he decided to stretch out on the couch - armor stripped away and down to just a pair of far thinner pants and that sleeveless compression shirt. He was content to stretch, on his stomach and arms folded under his head as that tail draped over the side of the couch. A hum let him, those ears flicking once before even they settled and Cloud drifted. He was safe here, he knew it.

     The question was just how long before Squall returned, and how long before he’d be able to harass the poor bastard because he was bored.

[inspectorboobzilla]

it’s time to bring back live east right

THAT WAS ONE TIME

[sunny-explosions]

griefandpunishment replied to your post “Let’s seeee… Less than two weeks to go until someone’s birthday!...”

No.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?? Don’t be a party pooper for your own party!”

[chknwuss]

griefandpunishment replied to your post: SQUALL JUST THREATENED TO CRUSH MY BALLS WITH HIS...

this is a dictatorship you little shit

too late. squall made it up to me. we’re back on good terms. but second off how dare you call me a little shit

I’ll throw you in a volcano.