#hurt and comfort!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cxffexngel]

[ @aaetherius ] A small starter just because.

It isn't exactly an easy thing. To re-tell long lost tales and woes of the dephs of his memory that Sandalphon simply cannot rid of even in those days where he tries pushing those memories down with the strongest hand he can. No. It still somehow comes back one way or another.

And yet, even as millennia have passed both so slow and also in the blink of an eye; after going through hell and back, catastrophe after catastrophe and still somehow coming back with his body more battered than the last, he still continues to live. Amidst grief and pain and sadness and much deeper feelings he can now mame but still can feel like deeply sunk thorns that are there to stay forever, he still lives on, and for once in his life he has a way to deal with it. For better or worse. He doesn’t know, but such uncertainty doesn’t scare him anymore as it used to. Not when surrounded by many bonds, some that forced their way through flames and thick ice that covered his withered heart that only now has let itself try and accept this new warmth that the current supreme primarch has been given the chance to taste.

Honestly, he still has days where seeing Lucifer feels like a sick joke from the depths of his mind, a long dream of things he doesn't deserve dangling infront him and believing every single of said miracles while also waiting for the knife to rip him apart from this paradise in the most painful way anytime. Yet it still never happens, and its been years, or more - Sometimes telling time apart even when living within the intricate thing that makes up for the fresh, old wood of the Grancypher’s walls is both easy and also difficult. Easy when needing to tend the cafe or clean and stock supplies, help in some missions Gran asks him for or he is the one to voluntarily step in. Even then, there's still times he loses track of time - holidays pass, enjoying them with Lucifer or the crew before crashing back in his shared room with the other and almost hibernating like those creatures from islands that exist in thick winters and spend many moons in slumber. It’s only because Lucifer and the others that he hasn’t been locked in his room unlike in the past when he had first arrived.

Not that he minds. It’s been a rather hard, but pleasant existence that he is determined to keep. Still too good to be true in his tattered heart but stubborn enough to fight for it, should it come down to even claw his way out the deepest pits of pandemonium once more. ( But at this point this being impossible with it’s existence having been destroyed a while ago. )

“ I…. I think I can tell you. “ His voice is solemn, a bit detatched even. But theres a small, timid and tired smile that Sandalphon still manages to manifest as he sits by the now much more comfortable bed that the angel shares with the other. A much needed upgrade ever since sharing rooms and having to make up for the rather hilarious mess of limbs sometimes it means to have multiple wings fitting and tangling between one another into a mass of feathers. Devoid of his armor and even heels, only comfortable pajama pants with fluffy fabric that the other had got for the other, and his signature skin tight black suit with exposed arms and shoulders. A bit relaxed despise how his voice lets out things he had never spoken nor even let himself try and actually think about for so, so very ling. “ About the scars. The ones on my back specifically. “

A part of him still doesn't want to. Not because he doesn't want lucifer to know. Oh he wants him to know entirely because the other had once, and just once said how he wanted to share the burden, to know and truly see the truth as what it was and have Sandalphon's side of what happened in the past, after many of their meetings slowly becoming strained on Sandalphon’s side along Lucifer’s less frequent visits because it was foolish to pretend that nothing happened. Or that at least the air had shifted in some way - that the light in Sandalphon eyes at some point had faded almost completely if not for the fact Lucifer would grace his existence finally after long, gruesome time he really wishes he could forget how long they took. No - a part of him still hesitates because he can feel the other will hurt. Feel maybe powerless when it’s obvious the former primarch obviously didn’t have any power in what was done in the labs. No one really had but the astrals and researchers themselves honestly. But still. Especially because he knows, those heavy ‘what if I had done this’ are hard to ignore as he’s also weighted by many of those, but at the end, Lucifer deserves to know, however it takes him to unravel this tight knot that firmly presses at his core like a parasite that wont be gone even if miraculously someone finds the cure to millennia long of inhumane experiences that not even primal beasts with the curse and blessing of sentience should have ever been subjected to. “ I hope it’s… Not too sudden, honestly. It can wait. “ It was his way to let Lucifer have a choice as well. His gaze is on his hands that rest on his lap, kneading lightly in the fluffy fabric of the pants he dons while fair, wild locks of brown lick at his temple and nose as Sandalphon doesn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes, his back exposed through the window of his suit where it’d let otherwise twelve brilliant wings sprout any other day, or simply his own two aurburn ones in more casual days.

[futuristic-koala]

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

I will remove anyone from my life to protect the peace that I've worked so hard for. Nobody took me out of the dark. I did it on my own.

Unknown

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[aphel1on]

nothinggg better than torturing an emotionally repressed character until every single trauma they've ever refused to process starts spilling uncontrollably out of the cracks. like a matryoshka doll situation of repressed trauma and baby you better believe i'm going in there with a hammer

[candaru]

no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.

I'm doing this for their own good.

[chappellrroan]

which ao3 tag are you?

[filmythingss]

"you cant heal if you pretend you're not hurt"

-filmythings

[cronchy-baguette]

When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

[portalmonsterrr]

Memento Vivere

Some additional notes:

[kyri45]

[mistbix]

kataang hurt/comfort fluff head pats running hand over buzzcut cafuné naps tired fic ao3 search

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

People who wound us get no say in how we clean up the blood.

Harriet Selina

[valtsv]

this is entirely petty and personal but i cannot stand the word "whump" it's like unalive to me. just say you enjoy torturing your favourite character so that you can nurse them back to health again like a sickly baby bird they're not real it's okay.

[abisalli]

There was always a certain shift that happened in Batman whenever he talked to kids that were hurt or scared. He would speak more softly, maybe even kneel down in front of them to personally assure them that they were safe now.

My first piece for this year's @batfam-big-bang! This is a scene from the incredible fic by @fullmetalninjabunny called 'Soft Words Left Unspoken' which you can find here <- 🦇 I had a blast working on this! Thank you so much for having me and also thank you to the mods for a great event <3

Image ID:

An image of Tim Drake as Robin and Bruce Wayne as Batman inside the Batcave. Both characters have their masks off. Tim is sitting on top of a medical bed and is looking to the side with tears streaming down his face. Bruce kneels down in front of him, looking troubled. He is holding Tim’s Mask in his right hand. In the foreground are four boxed captions with the following text, “It wasn’t Batman who was there anymore, but Bruce Wayne. Not the vigilante that had lost a protégé, but the man who has lost his son.”

[vavoom-sorted-art]

he's never been held before

tagging @goodomensafterdark