#tender ramblings

[tenderhungering]

i do love how Late Night With The Devil explores the supernatural and occult, but there is something fascinating about tearing away at the layers and finding that the entire movie just revolves around loss and trauma.

whether it be the loss of fame, of lover, of a child, of drive and passion, of the drive to continue living, of a childhood, of morals, or even of respect for yourself and others; all the characters seem to have lost something as soon as they stepped fully into the industry. as soon as they decided to stand in front of the camera. there is something to be said about how much trauma is mentioned and used as something to exploit, to turn into spectacle.

you need to make something out of the tragedy that you and others have faced that can be packaged and sold or else it was all for naught. you need to benefit from your hurt or else you have suffered for nothing. your own personal hell was created for you long before you had ever made a deal with the system that acts as though money can be placed over an open wound to stop the bleeding.

money is the drive here because money means power, and if this means having to put a price in exchange for the comfort that it brings to pretend to have any power over what has happened to you then so be it. look at how much hurt i carry, can you offer me comfort? no, but we can throw in some bucks for playing the game! we can televise it. we can make your hurt real by placing a camera in front of it.

[buttsonthebeach]

The way Solas puts his hand on the Inquisitor's back while they are on the balcony after Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts is everything

[ratpoizonz]

sorry this is mostly dexter and jack n john i'm biased

[gojoest]

pregnancy freak satoru holding your belly in his palms while he fucks you softly in missionary …………

[shiloriin]

And when you kiss my wounds,

I don’t feel as unworthy

of you.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Lights out! Poppy: Ahh I had such a refreshing na- Why is Sally glowing?

LMFAO YEAH. pretty much how it goes...

[momentomori24]

Surprisingly, hearing Vox and Val technically (I love how technically needed to be added) aren't dating didn't upset me as much as I thought it would. It did... for like a minute until I thought about how painfully much it fits them.

Val throws tantrums and is ready go out and kill people to let off steam, but decides to stay put in his room and sulk instead while he waits for his flat-faced prince to come and comfort him before he does anything drastic. He's killed and abused people for the slightest hint of non-compliance, which he sees as giving him an attitude or questioning his authority, but he doesn't so much as flinch when Vox raises his voice and starts shaking him in frustration more than once. He doesn't lash out or get angry when Vox tries to talk him out of marching towards the hotel, but instead listens to his points and takes his words to heart even when they weren't what he wanted to hear. He's not interested in Alastor, but is willing to sit through watching the extermination broadcast because Vox is a passionate football dad about his one-sided rival getting dunked on. He doesn't even act jealous towards Vox's obsession, just weirdly amused and supportive even tho he hates not being the center of attention any other times. And then there's Vox, who acts like he's annoyed to have to put up with Valentino but still does it anyway. He acts disinterested about Val's ranting over Angel until he hears that Angel might've quit because he's an jealous, insecure loser that wants that mf's attention to himself. He lights his cigarette and decides to call up their lowest earners for him to terrorize without being asked just to lighten his mood a little (unrelated but i feel for their employees). He keeps his eyes on him both in his room and when he's at the pub through the cameras he's got everywhere. He takes his hand like one would with a princess and smiles fondly at him before disappearing when noticing they're being watched. He's the only person that Val trusts enough to calm him down when his temper gets the better of him. And Val-- despite his volatile temper and obnoxious quirks-- is someone he respects and cares about, both as his business associate and romantic partner.

And they aren't dating. Val and Vox clearly have a connection and understanding and attraction yet are unable to confront those feelings in fear of being vulnerable. So they aren't dating. Val obsesses over Angel and Vox obsesses over Alastor to distract themselves of the other only to fall back into each other's arms at the end of the day. Even tho they aren't dating. They celebrate, dance, sing, support and shamelessly make out with each other. They're the only ones that would put up with each other's bullshit no matter what-- but for some reason, they're still not dating. They are two of the worst Overlords in Hell, capable of committing so many despicable acts and jumping to immoral tactics for their own gain without any regrets, but opening that door into genuine emotional vulnerability? Acknowledging their softness for each other? That's where they draw the line. They're clearly made for each other, but neither of them dare to step over that line to commit to something more.

Which means that we could get to actually see these changes take place. We could get to see more sides to these two we still haven't seen before. We could get to see them actually start dating and the complicated journey it took to get there. We could get to scream and kick and seeth as these two morons continue to dance around admitting their very much requited romantic feelings for every stupid reason under the sun episode after episode. We could get to see these two fix each other and make each other worse simultaneously. Mostly make each other worse. We could get to see them have a romantic duet. We could get to see them be happy together-- officially together-- while they make life worse for everyone around them.

All this mumbo-jumbo, sleep-deprived ranting will likely not happen, but the potential character growth, the dynamic development, the resolved romantic tension, the SONGS we could get??? I'm clinging onto this hope for dear life until it's ripped from my cold, dead hands.

[stressfulsloth]

Thinking about Harry and all the animal parallels that follow him through the narrative. It's true that these animal parallels reflect the way that the brutality of individualist moralism strips him of humanity as someone who has fallen through the safety nets, and his agonised shout of 'I don't want to be this kind of animal anymore' can be interpreted as a direct admission of the RCM's dehumanisation of him as a disabled addict who is no longer as 'useful' as he once was. Gottlieb even directly tells him '[he] lost [his] human visage a while back.' Jean calls him 'the most dangerous animal of them all'. The rabid dog that needs to be put down, the black dog (also a common metaphor for chronic mental illness!) that Mollins shoots as it licks its wounds; the scared, hurt, frightened animal lashing out, chewing off it's own leg to escape the trap that it's caught in. The wild dog is all they can see.

But then there is a flipside to these parallels too; a kindness, a gentleness, almost a freedom in Harry’s animal parallels. He's strong like a 'goddamn ox,' like a bear ('I had to kill the bear to become the bear'). He's a harrier hawk, a name given to ensure his safety, raised up to the level of the aerostatics looking down over Revachol, 'soar[ing] on the wings of [his] spirit hawk.' He's a leopard ('its impossible to know where you end and the leopard begins'), discovering or rediscovering a love of softness and sensuality that he'd not known before via the leopard print leotard that 'speaks to the animal inside [him]' and touches on his relationship with his gender ('Yes, this is the type of animal I want to be.').

He's a 'seagull', a bird that will do 'whatever it takes to survive,' a 'bird of paradise' that tells a story of 'endurance- and adaptation' ('You! You and the seagull are just alike!'). He survives, despite everything, despite the grimness of the world around him. He endures. Even the sea monster comparison is oddly kind ('You've become a sea monster -- giant, hidden and... strangely tender at heart'). Even as a monster, he's still gentle; he still has so much love for this world that has wrung every last bit out of him. As if his tenderness is such an inherent part of him that no matter what monstrous face he wears, no matter what creature is there in his shadow, he cannot help but have some trace of it at his core. His tender soul 'quivering like jello.' The pain he feels is raw and animal but so is the love he feels. So is the hope and the fear and the wonder.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Ghost sees himself as a terrible person so he lies to convince himself that his actions were necessary/makes him less of a bad person (he doesn't need to tho). No no he had to do that or his team would have been in danger.

Vs

Soap sees himself as a terrible person, but instead of trying to rationalize his actions to make himself seem better, he lies to make himself seem even worse than he is. He wasn't even thinking about his team then, it was just lucky that he didn't kill them all.

They know eachother inside and out. They know exactly how the other thinks.

Soap knows just how to remind ghost that he's good. That he's not this terrible unforgivable /thing/. That sure maybe some of the things he's done are, objectively, terrible, but that that does not make him a bad person.

Ghost knows how to refute soap perfectly without invalidating his feelings. Knows that soap doesn't actually want people to think he's a bad person, but thinks he deserves it. He knows how to explain from an objective but gentle standpoint how what he did/didn't do may not have been good persay, but it's nowhere near as bad as he twists it to be

[shisasan]

Tracing love letters on the palm of their hand.

[tetraharmonic]

Imagine a fic where Romeo guides someone through skincare. They don't really know how to take care of themselves, or they neglected to do it, so now they look at the shelves in the convenience store, confused out their mind. For a moment, they think about giving up, returning to their depression slump. Or, to what would be Romeo's horror later if he found out, they'd just go back to using a generic soap bar on their face. Romeo can't let that happen. So he sits them down, seeing how much they're genuinely trying, and can't help but feel a bit sympathetic. He walks them through toners and moisturizers and serums, sharing lavish face masks and perfumes, before gifting them all sorts of nice hot oil treatments, clays, and a jade roller. Of course, seeing the pile, they have no idea what to do, and get overwhelmed. Not to worry, Romeo has decided they're now his latest LOL. He applies it all himself, suprised to find so much patience in him, pulling their head back into his knees as they sit on the floor, and him in his nice seat, massaging hair treatments in and working out knots. He knows the ache, the post depression everything shower, the gender panic when giving yourself the proper care you deserve is seen as overly feminine, but also the struggle of not quite wanting to he feminine either. Wanting to just be. If they ask him to teach them how to do makeup, he'll teach them. Whether it's to present as feminine, or sharpen their features to present as masculine, all while reminding them that this isn't exclusive to one or the other. He teaches them to draw hearts in the smears of moisturizer with their thumbs in the mirror, so they never question whether or not they have the right to care for themself the way they should. That Romeo insists they deserve, but swear he doesn't give a damn. They feel so much better too. Sometimes they pretend to be lost to talk more. It's been a while since they've been heard. They ask "why the abbreviation?" Doesn't he know that LOL stands for laughing out loud?

He shakes his head. His tone isn't romantic, merely to the point, like stating a truth. An observation. "Nonono, belli*. Labor of Love."

* probably improper use of Italian. Someone help, what's the gender neutral way to say beautiful, I'm dying here.

[tinycowboybro]

i know that it’s literally his job, but something about mork subtly walking forward to block day from the sharp corner is just 😭😭

he is just so attentive and good at caring for day without having been a caretaker before im dying

[linktoo]

the bill folding down and frowning after spending it on that fucking shirt

[gojoest]

more papa satoru from satoai instagram feed

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part III

>> part I here // part II here // hhau masterpost here <<

3,3k words. cw for this one - violence, injuries, maybe mild gore?

-- The hunters come, drawn by the loud noises of panic Grian was making, unerringly making their way towards them. They yell and holler at each other and cheer, feeling triumph from cornering their prey. It’s going to be them who get the wanted poster reward money. Them who will get their hands on those rare, special, bright feathers. 

They do not hesitate to approach and attack.

Scar is tightly holding onto Grian, unwilling to let go. He’s going to protect him with everything he has, and if right now that’s just his body? If it means being a shield? He’ll do it.

He’s in his vex form, which allows the wounds to heal, but they still hurt. It still feels desperate. It still feels like there’s a limit, and the enemies are approaching, cautious around the clearly feral vex. 

Scar’s going to have to let go of Grian if they have any chance to fight them off here.

He pleads and begs, asking for Grian’s attention and trust, hoping for some coherency. Hoping, to all hells and back, that Grian can do this last thing. That he won’t run, that he won’t give up, that he won’t give himself over in some misguided attempt to protect Scar. (There’s no protecting Scar here. He’s on that wanted poster as well, after all. He’s already caught in this skirmish.)

There’s only one thing for them to do.

Fight.

So he looks at Grian, trying to anchor his panicked gaze, and begs him to fight with him. 

Please, fight with me. Please, Grian. It can be the last time.

And Grian nods. He rubs the tears out of his eyes. There’s nothing else to do here. He’s going to stand by Scar’s side and do his part in their survival, like always. Even if it might be the last time. (Grian definitely thinks the last time means something else here, but he’s willing to take as many hunters down with them as possible.) (He also thinks this just proves his point that he’s a beacon and he’ll draw danger to Scar, constantly, always, until they die.)

They slip into something learned, feral and fierce. A flash of steel and claws, blue magic and violet feathers. The panic and exhaustion take second place, pushed away entirely by a haze of a fight, blood gathering on their hands as they cover each other’s back.

It’s violent. It’s vicious.

This is how the hermit rescue party finds them. 

They’ve never seen Grian and Scar like this. They’ve never seen a scene quite like this one. But the fight is far from over, and more hunters are coming, and— The hermits don’t really get time to process what they’re seeing—what any of it means, a reflection of a year of horrors—they simply rush in to help.

Scar is relieved to see them. They can now see that Grian is alive! (And they can help keep it that way!) And Grian can see that there really is hope!

Except Grian isn’t really processing that this is their friends. His mind is completely haywire, adrenaline loud in his ears. This makes no sense to him, and he doesn’t have the space to stop and pause and take it in. It’s staticky and numb and far away, nonsensical to his frightened heart. The coherency evades him. 

There’s nothing here for Grian but blood and death and Scar Scar Scar Scar.

He barely dodges an arrow aimed at him and pounces at a hunter who was approaching Scar from the side. There’s no hesitation in his motions. No pause or remorse about fighting to death on a permadeath server. About killing, ruthlessly and brutally. It’s long since past the time when thoughts like that felt like they hold any weight.

The hermits quickly assess that this isn’t going to go well. The fight won’t easily be turned in their favour if they’re overwhelmed by numbers. They need to go. Now.

They don’t get to tell their plan to Scar and Grian. There’s no time. There’s no real way to explain anything in this chaos of a fight. They simply act.

It’s Cub who manages to get close enough to vex-mode Scar, snapping a bracelet on his wrist.

Scar barely registers that there’s something against his skin before he feels a sharp yank as he’s teleported away, without warning or consent. 

Disorientedly, he finds himself on a ship, the surroundings quiet where before everything was loud. Cub is there with him, and so is Doc and Ren and Impulse. Xisuma hurries into the room, eyes wide, asking if Scar’s okay.

Scar isn’t okay, because he is here and Grian isn’t.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian was ready to give up and sacrifice himself before Scar found him, and now he's alone again.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian is terrified and Scar isn’t there to help. He isn’t there to keep him grounded. He isn’t there to keep him alive through this. He—

 It doesn’t matter that Cub promises they’re coming. So very sure the others will join them very soon. Any second, really! Aaaaany second.

Scar’s going ballistic on the ship. Gone full vex brain, and they can’t snap him out of it. Doc tries to restrain him with his bionic arm, since it can resist Scar’s claws. (Scar does not like seeing a creeper right now, either. He’s not thinking straight.) Scar’s hair is still white, eyes shining blue, vex magic rampant in his veins as feral panic floods him, leaving him thrashing and yelling at them, demanding to see Grian. (They took him away, he can’t be taken away, no nononono—)

Cub keeps repeating they’re coming. They’re coming.

Scar keeps trying to fight back, get free, get them to listen to him. Insisting, urgent and panicky: Send me back send me back send me back.

A minute passes, then another.

The others aren’t showing up.

Scar’s agitation only grows. He told them. He told them that Grian needs him! They aren’t listening to him. Nobody is listening.

Impulse tells him to trust them.

Scar shouts back that he doesn’t trust anybody.

It’s bewildering and startling and wild. On top of that, Cub is freaking out, because Scar’s still in his vex form, and Cub knows all too well that it’s actively dangerous to Scar to keep holding onto that much vex magic at once for too long. That Scar needs to stop.

Scar won’t stop. Not until Grian is safe.

--

Grian isn’t safe.

The fight is messy and the hermits showed up in the middle of it and Grian isn’t processing any of it. He just knows someone’s trying to grab him, and then Scar is gone, and Grian’s left in an even worse state, everything a cacophony of danger and panic. 

Amidst the chaos of the fight, he does what he knows best: he avoids being touched. He avoids capture, which is what his brain perceives as the hermit rescue party trying to do. They need to get close to him, within touching distance, and put the bracelet on him, and— He isn’t letting them. He isn’t letting anyone near him. (Anyone but Scar.) (But Scar isn’t here anymore.)

Alarms blare through Grian’s head at the loss of Scar—his only source of safety irreparably gone in a way he can’t comprehend—hurtling him deeper into confusion and despair. Everything’s a blur of blood and adrenaline, and he’s terrified.

But Scar asked him to fight, one last time. So Grian does.

--

Scar, too, fights. 

He fights to get free, to get sent back to Grian, somehow, he doesn’t care how just send him back. He’s distressed in a way they’ve never seen, and the more time passes without the rest of the rescue party coming back, the more grim it all becomes. 

Doc is still on Scar-restraining duty. Impulse and Ren are trying to help but are lowkey pressing themselves against the walls, trying to avoid the lash out. Cub’s still trying to get to Scar, urging him to calm down before the vex magic burns him out completely (and literally). Xisuma is anxiously counting every second that the rest of the rescue crew isn’t coming, trying to process the severity of the implications without having all the informations to do so. 

And then, finally, Pearl comes through.

Only Pearl. 

She’s dazed. She’s bleeding.

Scar doesn’t care. He tries to tackle her and demand answers, Doc’s hold slipping, managing to reel him back just in time. 

Everyone’s now on high alert. They don’t know what’s going on down there and they also need to take care of Pearl’s injuries. 

Turns out, Gem triggered Pearl’s teleport to get her out of there when she got severely injured. It’s now only Grian and Gem against a whole bunch of hunters in a world that doesn’t play nice. 

Scar swivels, yanking himself free of Doc’s hold. He grabs Xisuma. “Send me back.”

Pearl’s pleading the same now. She was so close to Grian! She doesn’t know what’s going to happen now that she isn’t there. Now that she doesn’t have a chance to reach him anymore. There was so much blood everywhere. Her injuries throb in a way she’s never felt, dread thick on her tongue like blood. 

She can’t bear the possibility of this going wrong. 

Nobody can.

Impulse snaps to action (as the Unhurt Sane Person™). “Alright, that’s it. I’m going in.”

X, worried for Gem and Grian, lets him.

Which makes Scar more feral, because he also wants to go, and now he knows Xisuma is capable of sending him back. He starts straight up threatening them all, tries to snatch at the controls himself, tries to grab Xisuma by the throat, all the bad things. He yells at them that Grian’s going to die. Can’t they understand??? His words are jumbled and desperate and hard to comprehend, but he needs them to understand. He needs to go back.

His claws are still smeared by blood of the hunters. He’s still in vex form, hair white and eyes blue, fangs sharp. Breath hitching, tears dripping down his chin, heart beating wildly in his chest. He needs to go they need to let him they have to. Grian’s going to die.

Cub decides he has to make compromises. He says they have to send Scar back in. (Scar isn’t going to let go of his vex form here like this.) He makes the call to trust Scar despite all the damage he’s causing here. He approaches him, even though Scar is scary and has been lashing out, grabs his hand and presses a bracelet into it.

He tells Scar, “Save him.”

--

The second Scar spawns back down, he is welcomed by Grian’s visceral scream of pain.

His first instant thought is a harrowing not again, vividly remembering how he found Grian that very first time in this world. How close to death that ended up. How awful it was. 

He wanted to never hear that kind of sound again. And yet he keeps hearing them. Screams of pain he’ll never be able to forget.

The scene that greets him is dismal. 

Grian’s on the ground, his wing tangled into a trap that keeps dragging and ripping at it. There’s a lot of hunters trying to approach the trap—they want to kill Grian so he’d stop thrashing and tearing his wing apart, because they don’t want their precious money-making wings destroyed. Gem and Impulse are slightly off to the side, getting overwhelmed as they’re desperately trying to keep the hunters on them and away from Grian.  

It’s a blur. Scar rushes through the hunters, drawing blood as he goes, mindless and with only a singular goal in mind: get to Grian. He doesn’t care if he’s getting stabbed or sliced in the process. (It’ll heal. It’ll heal. Grian might not.) A growl rips from him, low and deep and feral. A handful of hunters startles away from Grian, stumbling out of the mad vex’s path, but it doesn’t save them from their fate.

Scar’s claws are drenched in scarlet, leaving behind an absolute carnage by the time he collapses to his knees by Grian’s side, unable to relax until he can gather Grian in his bloodied arms. 

Impulse and Gem keep fending off hunters, but they also watch this scene unfold in stolen, fragmented little moments, keeping an eye on the two of them. And it’s destabilising to witness, for very different reasons than everything else that’s happened so far.

Because it’s only when Scar has a hold on Grian does some of the white bleed out of his hair, his hands softening from claws into blunt nails and harmless fingertips. 

Because where there were only growls and snarls and seemingly no control, there’s suddenly gentleness and soft murmured words.

Because Scar kisses Grian’s hair as he soothes him, and Grian finally grows quieter and calmer, even though he’s still shivering and sobbing and clearly in immense pain.

Because Grian lets Scar put that bracelet on him so easily, so willingly, clutching onto him, Scar’s name on a desperate, hoarse, endless loop on Grian’s lips. 

It all suddenly makes a lot more sense. (They messed up taking Scar away.)

--

They all get teleported out of there, this time Grian included. 

It isn’t pretty. The trap that tears at his wing and leaves him hopelessly ground-bound is so firmly attached to him that it gets teleported with him, its sharp edges buried deep into the flesh of Grian’s wing.

He keeps freaking out whenever someone tries to approach, making it impossible for them to help.

It’d be best if Peal could come and take a look. She’s a moth hybrid, not an avian, but she still knows more about wings than any of them. (She should know a lot about Grian’s wings, their relationship once almost sibling-like, but she looks at the tangled, bloodied mess that Grian is, flinching away from her, and she is terrified, finding no traces of that bond in Grian’s frightened gaze.)

 Scar keeps holding onto Grian, blindly eager to keep everyone away as well, attuned to Grian’s panic. But his worry wins over, his adrenaline-muddied mind unable to figure out the trap without assistance.

So he eventually allows Pearl to approach.

Grian has different ideas. He’s having none of this. He doesn’t want anyone near his wings.

Determined and not seeing much of a choice here, Pearl crouches as close as Grian allows. Scar’s blocking Grian’s view, trying to redirect his attention and keep him calm through the waves of frantic, leftover but still very real panic. (He’s using his wings to block the view.) (Cub cringes at the state of them. They all do, actually, momentarily stunned but determining that this isn’t the time to ask.) 

Pearl is just close enough to inspect the tangle, and just far enough for it all to be out of reach.

It’s hard to see, through the blood and the feathers and various other bits that she really doesn’t want to think too much about.

Trying to take control over her trembling voice, she does her best to navigate Scar through it. It would’ve been so much simpler if she could do it herself—it’d probably avoid some mistakes and more damage, and it’d be faster. (Verbal navigation with frenzy-muddled thinking is difficult.)

But Grian can’t can’t can’t

Scar’s hands tremble almost the entire time. He’s still on an adrenaline rush. He’s exhausted from his magic usage—even having his wings out is a struggle.

At one point, Pearl tries to lay a soothing hand on Scar and he jumps.

And it just really settles then—that, wow, they’re both really messed up, aren’t they?

--

Scar ends up being the one to bargain with hermits. Bargaining is a strong word, it’s more of a list of demands, really. Safety lines, kind of. Grian’s still not processing quite right that this is happening—it’s a numb, almost dissociative feeling; he knows these are his friends, but he doesn’t understand how this is real, and his feelings are nonsensical and haywire. He feels very far from normal. (He doesn’t remember what normal is.) He doesn’t want anyone near.

They’re given lots of potions in lieu of a more proper medical examination, and a private shared room. Scar’s always the one to answer the door, on guard, tense even as he slips on an easygoing smile most of the times. 

They’re given new comms, which they tuck away and promptly forget about, completely unused to such a thing. 

Once things settle a bit, all the startling differences come into focus. Cub points out that Scar’s got new scars, and everyone notices his stark white streak in his hair. (Not to mention his tattered wings.) On top of that, Grian is scarred now too. And they hold themselves differently, twitching and flinching, curled up and quiet. Guarded and unapproachable. 

Everything feels horribly precarious. The hermit crew skirts the topic of what that world was like, what happened to them, never quite managing to ask in any meaningful way, even as the questions burn on their tongue. 

They’re not going to get any answers. Not now. Not for a long time.

Nothing but hints and flashes of fear in eyes and marks written deeply into skin, to stay forever, carry across respawns (which will now be a real possibility again, but it’s a concept Scar and Grian don’t know how to grasp anymore.)

The rescue crew sends a message home, to warn the others. Telling them to be careful and maybe not approach too fast. It’s vague, devoid of details. They themselves don’t really understand the triggers, after all, feeling confused. The journey home isn’t long enough for any of it to properly settle, a mere two days worth of travel until they’re within reach of Hermitcraft.

So of course the messages don’t make much sense to anyone waiting home on Hermitcraft. Everyone’s simply hyped and excited that this’s been a success, that Scar and Grian are going home!

They organise a welcome party.

It doesn’t go well.

Grian and Scar spawn in, not expecting to be instantly surrounded by people friends. It’s chaotic and loud, everyone cheerful and celebratory, ready to throw themselves at the two of them—

Except Grian’s backing away now, lowkey having a panic attack, and Scar’s protectively standing in front of him, shielding him, used to block the view of Grian’s wings on sheer instinct. Everything’s too much all at once, an onslaught of noises and people crossing lines before either of them are ready for it, and—

Well, Grian runs.

Scar, who has a slightly more solid understanding of how they’re meant to be safe now, falters. (His emotions aren’t settled at all, but he can somewhat rationalise it to himself.) (Grian can’t grasp it just yet at all.) He mumbles an anxious and slightly startled “Sorry— This— No.” Before he bolts after Grian.

The rescue crew sighs, telling the others they shouldn’t have done this. The welcome party was a bad idea. But nobody really understands. They can see now that, clearly, it was a bad idea, but they’re left reeling, trying to catch up to it. (Scar’s white streak. Grian’s scars. The panic in their eyes. Scar’s protectiveness. Grian’s fear.)

They’ve been looking forward to this reunion. They’ve spent weeks, months, feeling despair and hopelessness, an empty space left on the server where two beloved, pesky members of their family should be. And now they’re left standing here, in the wake of what should’ve been a happy occasion, all kinds of confused and concerned and confused.

Everything is far from ideal. 

They’re going to take a breath, have an (unproductive) meeting about this, and do their best to figure out what to do about this situation.

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are going to dig a hidden bunker. (The others had a house prepared for them, near the shopping district, lively and easy to visit.) (They didn’t even get to tell them.) 

Well.

This is going to take some time.

But they’re home now. They’re home, and one day, that revelation is going to properly sink in.

Until then, they have each other. (And everyone else, waiting and ready for them. <3)

[secriden]

"it's okay": how Prapai makes this true for Sky

in the early parts of Love Sky, we see several instances of Sky trying to comfort himself with this phrase; either after a nightmare/flashback or after something difficult/stressful happens.

Sky is attempting to cheer himself up, but each attempt is largely ineffective because he has no real basis for hope. there's a helplessness and disbelief in the way he says the phrase, like on some level Sky knows that things aren't going to magically get better because he's still being haunted by his past.

but this is one example of how Prapai is genuinely perfect for Sky. Prapai offers Sky the same words in comfort, but he accompanies it with very specific and immediately evidenced reasons why those words are true.

when he tells Sky "it's okay," Prapai isn't offering empty words, but accompanying actions that prove the claim he's making.

it's okay: i'm here - whoever is chasing you in your nightmares, they can't get to you because i'm here. you can rest, because i'm here to defend you.

it's okay: you've finally said it to me - it's out now, there's no more lies and no more misunderstandings. i love you and you love me and we both know this to be the truth. you're not alone in this and your love isn't unrequited. we can be together and you can love me, because i'm already in love with you.

it's okay: you don't need to be with someone else - i will never ask you to give yourself away to someone else. your love is precious; you are precious; and i won't ask you to break off pieces of yourself to give away. it's safe to give yourself fully to me because i will never ask you to give yourself to anyone else.

Prapai actively takes steps to ensure that Sky can begin to trust in these words again because his presence, actions and devotion is what proves them true.