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#I didn't find anything in that tag so
a2zillustration · 9 days
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tfw u come across someone else who can't remember certain things and it hits a little too close to home for a second
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shady-tavern · 1 year
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The Tailors on Baker Street
Warning for implied/referenced domestic abuse and murder. Please take care of yourselves, this is possibly a bit darker than my usual fare.
***
There was a tailoring shop at the end of Baker Street, a small but rather popular store, run by a married couple. They were ever polite and friendly, sharing gossip with mischievous winks and listening to the trouble of their customers. 
Their wares were of good quality and it was said they could fix every dress and coat, no matter the rip. Whatever one needed, they had it and they were said to finish orders swiftly and as desired. Their fine stitches and detailed embroidery were the envy of many.
There was another rumor about them, shared in soft whispers and away from prying ears. When you had fled to your friend, terrified, helpless and bruised, admitting you couldn't take it any longer, she had told you there was a solution to your problems.
Go to the tailors at the end of Baker Street and present them with a daisy, your friend had told you, briefly dipping into her yard to pluck one, shoving the small flower into your shaking hands. Give it to them, they'll know what to do.
And here you were, in front of a modest, well taken care of storefront. A carriage bustled past behind you and you fiddled with the daisy, doing your best not to wear it down with your gut-wrenching anxiety.
It took more courage than should be necessary to set foot into the store, your heart pounding hard enough you felt it beat in your throat. There were some customers, looking over ribbons and fabric, before examining shirts, breaches and skirts, along with coats and dresses on hangers. They barely paid you any mind, too focused on their tasks.
You nearly squished the poor flower in your grip as you lingered by the door, fighting the urge to leave before someone spotted you.
"Welcome and good day, how may I help you?" a woman's pleasant voice made you flinch in surprise and you turned to the lady who had approached you. She was beautiful and well dressed, if simply, for work. Her dark hair was neatly pinned up and pretty earrings reflected the light. 
She wore a brooch, made of three daisies and her eyes held a strange, golden shimmer. You quickly chalked that up to the light falling in through the window. Some people simply had unique eyes, after all, but these held you captive for just a moment despite your body nearly shivering with stress.
"Um." You gestured with your hands, mouth dry and heart pounding. Her gaze fell to the slightly worn looking daisy.
"Oh, how silly of me," she said, stepping back and gesturing for you to walk ahead of her. "You're here to pick up a custom order, aren't you? Forgive me for forgetting, it has been such a busy day."
You wobbled a small, unsure nod and scurried ahead, head kept down. The woman led you to the back of the store, where real custom orders were waiting on a rack, all finished and well made. The space was clean and neat and had two worktables below the windows, one abandoned with a half finished blouse lying neatly on top.
A tall man looked up from the second table, pausing in sewing a silver button onto a dark blue coat. "Has there been an issue with an order, Milly?" he asked, mild and pleasant, voice the nice kind of slightly-deep. He was handsome, his beard and hair neat and well groomed. He was just as well, if simply, dressed as the woman and he, too, wore a brooch made of three daisies.
His gaze fell to the by now somewhat mangled flower in your hands and he hummed in understanding, setting the coat aside. You felt your shoulders hitch up a bit at his undivided attention.
"Please, take a seat," the woman said, gesturing to an empty stool. "We'll be right with you."
As you nervously perched, rather than sat, you saw her set out a sign and close the door to the backroom.
"How can we help you?" the man asked, calm and steady, his hands folded in his lap. 
His face was kind, but there was a glint in his eyes, something as cool and sharp as the scissors lying near his elbow. You noticed a strangely golden shimmer in his eyes as well, but you were too anxious and worried to wonder about that.
"We would love to know who recommended us," the woman added and while she smiled, pretty and charming, she too had eyes of sharp, cold steel. "We love to see our business grow in the right direction, after all."
You glanced between them, wetting your lips. "My friend, Jane Martin, said I should come here." 
Should you leave? Sure, you were terrified to go back home, but could they really help? Would they even believe you? Was it right to get strangers involved, maybe even hurt? 
Lots of people were in your position, stuck with people who mistreated them. Just last week they had fished a dead woman out of the river, face and neck bruised.
At your words, subtle tension eased out of their faces and their eyes lost the sharp coldness. "Miss Martin is a very valued customer," the woman said with a smile that truly looked pleasant now, not just pretty. Something about it made your shoulders relax a little. "Forgive our caution, I am Milly and this is my husband Julius, what brings you to us?"
"You seem a bit haggard," Julius added, a soothing tone to his voice that unexpectedly helped you take a calming breath. "I'll go and make us all a cup of tea."
Milly took a seat by the free table, most likely hers, arranging her skirts in an elegant motion. Their manners were as prim and proper as those of the upper class, though their fingers were callused and you noticed a small scar on Julius' wrist as he prepared tea.
"Take your time," Milly said, voice gentle and patient and you felt your throat tighten all of a sudden, tears blurring your vision. "Speak with us whenever you're ready."
"What about your store?" you asked, an unwanted rough quality to your voice that gave away your emotional state.
"No need to worry." Julius offered you a reassuring smile.
You had no idea how they did it, but their presences felt...pleasant. You usually didn't trust strangers, but looking at them, you found the tight grip around your heart and stomach easing. They did not look at you with pity, and instead their calming steadiness felt reassuring.
Even the guilt and shame felt muted as a gentle floral scent filled the air, sunshine casting everything in soft warmth. Under other circumstances you might have left again, not wanting to bother these kind, unexpectedly pleasant people.
But the fear that had driven you out of your house still sat in your gut like a block of poisoned ice. Once again you wished you had found the courage to back out of the marriage after you had accepted the proposal in front of your family. 
Your parents however had been all-too happy that you had married into a rich family and they did not want to hear anything bad about your spouse. They especially had cut you off mid-sentence when you had suggested going public. They would not want to risk the wrath of a richer family upon themselves.
Your father had suggested that it was your fault that your spouse was...unpleasant. That you weren't sweet enough, kind enough, accommodating enough. That you didn't listen enough, that you talked back too much. You hadn't spoken with your parents since.
You had gone to the police exactly once and you knew better than to do that again. Your spouse was a valued member of higher society after all and had made sure you understood how far their influence reached.
"Here you go," Julius said, handing you the cup of tea, his fingers carefully not brushing yours, and sitting down. "Speak freely, we will believe you."
You met their gazes and they were so steady and earnest you felt breath flow into your lungs properly for the first time in days. You believed that they would believe you. It settled something within you, your withered courage taking root and growing enough to help you speak.
Haltingly you told them the story, clinging to the delicate porcelain cup Julius had handed you. You couldn't bring yourself to take a sip, but the floral fragrance and the heat warming your cold fingers helped.
"Are you safe at the moment?" Julius asked after you finished your story.
"I'm staying with my friend." For now. For as long as she could hide you at her place without your spouse causing trouble.
"If you ever find yourself unsure where to go, come to us," Milly said, gaze serious. "No matter the time. One of us will let you in and you will be safe here."
You inclined your head, hoping you were never forced to take them up on their offer. It was strange, however, that you believed that, too. A part of you, more instinct than rational thought, already felt safer. It shouldn't be possible, not when you knew how powerful your spouse was. That simple tailors couldn’t stand a chance against someone who could crush them in so many ways.
And yet...it felt like fear had no place here. Banished from this room by sunshine and the presence of these two, who had eyes tinged in gold. Who looked at you with so much truth nothing could have shaken it apart. You realized that your fingers had stopped shaking, that your skin no longer felt cold.
There was a thread of calm that had settled within you while you had spoken, easing your heart and soul.
"There is but one thing we need of you," Julius said, drawing your attention. "Would you mind leaving the key to your home with us? You can retrieve it again at the end of the week, at which point you can return home."
"Oh, of course." You pulled the key out of your pocket, handing it over. "What are you going to do?"
Milly's smile could have been reassuring and compassionate at first glance, but all it reminded you of was a razor sharp blade held against an unprotected throat. Not your throat, you still felt that sense of safety, but more like a weapon waiting to drink the blood of its enemy. "We'll take care of things, don't you worry."
You should keep asking. You should ask what they were going to do. If you were a good person, like the priest preached you were supposed to be, you would ask for the key back and request they forget your visit. You should return home, obedient and quiet and accept the place you had been given. The hand fate had dealt you.
But your mouth felt glued shut and the courage rooted within you stubbornly grew a tiny bloom of hope. Fuck fate. Fuck God if this was what He considered just and right. You deserved better, you deserved to live without fear and pain. You handed over the cup when Julius held out his hand for it.
"Let me show you out," Milly said and you found yourself secretly glad to not immediately lose her company. "There is a carriage that will take you back to your friend." When you tried to protest, she silenced you with a sweet, genuine smile. "Let us look after you as long as you're here."
While Julius cleaned up the cups, Milly accompanied you to the front step of the shop and waved over a waiting carriage. "Make sure she gets home safe, Leopold," she said, offering her hand to help you into the carriage. 
"Stay safe," she murmured at last and for just a moment, you swore the gold gleam in her eyes was brighter than ever. You nodded and she closed the door, her gaze holding yours until the carriage lurching into motion. Even then you looked back at her and saw her watching you leave until you rounded the corner.
You gripped the thoroughly mangled daisy tightly and closed your eyes. You didn't dare pray, worried that god might notice and put a stop to things. But deep down, you hoped you would be free soon, no matter how it happened.
*.*.*
You returned to the shop at the end of the week, feeling exhausted and frayed, like an old, worn piece of fabric. Your friend had done her best to distract you and keep you busy, but it hadn't helped against the tension that wouldn't leave you.
It was early when you showed up and Milly had only just opened the store, since both had just finished setting up the last of their wares.
"Ah, good day, my dear," Milly said with unexpected warmth, stepping toward you as though you were truly welcome company. 
You were surprised to see how happy and languid she appeared to be. Her husband moved with the same deep relaxation when he bowed his head respectfully to you, offering a charming smile. 
Strangely enough, they reminded you of well fed cats enjoying a spot of golden sunlight. An air of effortless confidence surrounded them, a quiet strand of power that wove into the sense of safety that lingered all around them.
"I'm not too early?" you asked, your nervously wringing hands claming. Whatever they had done, it had made them very and deeply happy.
Milly's smile morphed into a grin and the gold in her eyes was brighter than ever before. She seemed so radiant you couldn't look away. She was easily the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. "No, of course not. Are you ready to head back home?"
You didn't mention that the house of your spouse had never felt like home. The last time you would have called a place that, you had been a child of eight and had stayed with your aunt and grandmother during the summer months. After the falling-out your father had with his side of the family, you hadn't seen them again.
"I am," you answered anyway. You couldn't continue to live at your friend's place. Even if she didn't mind, she was currently seeing a particularly sweet gentleman and once they became serious about each other, you'd swiftly overstay your welcome.
Julius stepped forward, all fluid grace and pulled your key from his pocket. His eyes too seemed brighter than ever, making your eyes linger on his face. He really was so very handsome.
"All is well," he said, quiet and certain, when handing over the key, his fingertips ever so carefully brushing yours.
"Alright." Your voice was soft and you glanced between them. "Thank you. Do I owe you anything?"
"No, not at all, this was our pleasure," Milly answered, voice as sweet as honey and her smile felt like it was meant just for you. "Anything else we can do for you?"
"No, um, but really, thank you." You gave them a clumsy, heartfelt bow and they elegantly curtseyed back, an amused mischievousness to their smiles. "I'll get out of your hair now."
"Our hair hardly minds," Julius answered. "Please, feel free to come back whenever you like."
"We'll be glad to help in whatever way we can, or just to chat," Milly added, leaning against her husband, both of them looking right at home with each other and within their store. "Be sure to speak to Leopold if you like, he'll take you home."
You couldn't help but smile back a bit and after a last dip of your head, you stepped back outside. An elderly woman bustled past you with her grandson, grandly telling him to pick whatever he liked best for his wedding.
You took a deep breath, so deep it almost ached in your lungs and you clutched the key tight. Was...was it over? Just like that? All your worries and fears could cease to be? Rubbing a hand over your face, you approached Leopold, who was softly talking with the horses, massaging their foreheads.
The young man, just barely out of boyhood, was happy to bring you home, helping you into the carriage and whistling as he started driving. You clung tightly to the key, nerves making your stomach squirm and your heart was beating harder, the closer you came to home. 
And yet, fear didn't claw its way up your throat. You believed the tailors that it was done and dealt with. You...trusted them, as inexplicable as that might be. It was as if a small bit of safety had stayed with you after your visit to their store and it accompanied you even now.
At last, Leopold stopped and you took a deep breath before leaving the carriage. "Thank you," you said, tipping him some money and his face lit up.
"Have a nice day," he said with a cheerful bow of his head, then drove on.
The house looked just like you remembered it, flowers blooming and nothing was out of place. Swallowing and taking another deep breath, you walked up the path to the front door. You unlocked the door, cautiously peeking inside.
Nothing. The house smelled like fresh air and the maid must've been by yesterday, for new flowers filled the vase on a side-table. Stepping past the threshold, you carefully walked onward, your steps sounding too loud in the silent house.
You found your spouse sitting in the study, breathing calmly and not reacting to your presence. The sharp stab of bitter disappointment quickly faded to startled realization. Empty eyes stared ahead unseen, no emotion visible on your spouse's face.
"Um..." You managed to say after a long moment, but it brought you no reaction.
Your mind rebelled, hurrying towards the excuse of drugs and poison and other mixtures, but deep down you knew your spouse was gone. The thing that sat there was an empty shell, no soul remaining, and you had no idea what to do.
In the end, after puttering around nervously for a few minutes, you ended up sending for the family doctor. The older man who showed up usually came for you, making sure you'd heal fine. 
"Oh my, this does not look good," he muttered the moment he spotted your spouse, hurrying onward. "When did you notice something was wrong?"
"I was visiting a friend for a few days," you said and his gaze was knowing when he glanced at you. "I, um, came back this morning and noticed how quiet it was. I was glad at first, but when I went in here to check..." You gestured at the limp, unresponsive body.
The doctor hummed in understanding, already reaching out to find the issue. It didn't take long before they sent for a carriage to bring your partner to the hospital. You were allowed to come along and nurses hurriedly wheeled your spouse away the moment you arrived.
You sat and waited, time passing both too fast and too slow. At last, a doctor approached you, quiet and apologetic. It seemed your partner had suffered an aneurysm and there was nothing they could do. Your spouse would be dead soon.
The tears that rose sharply were seen as tears of grief, instead of the soul-deep relief that swept through you. The staff was very kind, comforting you and letting you sit with your spouse, who didn't even make it through the night. Finally, you were free.
Afterwards you went home, standing in the large, rich house and you realized that it all belonged to you now. The money of your spouse belonged to you. But most of all, you were finally, finally free.
You broke down crying, helpless laughter mixing into the tears and the gasping. Afterwards you took a carriage to your friend's place, forgetting the late hour. You didn't want to stay in that house any longer than you had to. Your friend was startled when she opened bleary eyed, then grimly happy when you told her the news.
"They solve problems like that," she said after holding you in her arms. "The tailors. No one asks how they do it or what exactly they do and we don't rat them out either. I'm so glad they helped."
You fell asleep in her arms and when you woke, the sun shining through the window made you smile. Your heart felt like a newly uncaged bird, almost too afraid to fly and taste that freedom fully.
Hope bloomed like a meadow of wild flowers and you breathed through a new wave of tears. Your future had turned from a grim, dark end into something bright and open. It was all yours, yours to finally do with as you pleased.
The house was soon sold, the art within donated, along with a portion of the money. You fended off your parents, who swept in to try and weasel out money and power for themselves. They deserved nothing after marrying you off to someone they suspected would mistreat you and then left you in the jaws of a metaphorical wolf.
The air was growing cold by the time everything was taken care of and you had moved into a new place, your friend supporting you all the way. 
You only rarely suffered from nightmares these days and you slowly unearthed all the pieces of you that you had buried. The pieces your spouse had not liked, had despised. There was damage done, undoubtedly, and some days it felt like too much, but you had so many reasons to keep going. To keep moving forward.
There were people, however, who did deserve a piece of your newfound fortune. Leaves were crunching beneath your shoes as you approached the store at the end of Baker Street, this time not afraid. No, you were anything but afraid.
Julius was taking care of some customers as you stepped inside, a pleasant scent greeting you. A smile was on your face and you breathed in that steadfast safety that lingered with both tailors present. It eased your heart as it had the last two times and this time you couldn't help but sink into it fully, shoulders relaxing.
Milly approached you after ringing up a lady at the counter, smiling in warm welcome. "How lovely to see you again," she said and there was a brief, hard glint in her eyes. "I hope all went well?"
"Yes." You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small box. "I know you said no gratitude was necessarry, but I still wish to give you this. I, um, picked it myself."
She looked charmed and chuckled softly. "How could I ever refuse such a sweet gesture?"
Her fingertips were warm as they brushed yours ever so gently, while she accepted the box. Your hands tingled and you only realized you had leaned slightly towards her, when you caught yourself.
She held your gaze a moment longer, before glancing down and curiously opening it. A happy smile broke out across her face and her gaze grew warm and soft and this time you could admit to yourself that there was nothing normal about the golden shimmer brightening in her eyes.
"You are truly beautiful, inside and out," she murmured, closing the box again and your breath caught a little at her words. "Thank you, for this sweet gift."
You couldn't help but smile back shyly. Julius joined you in this moment, a satisfied customer leaving with a happy spring in their step. "Oh? Did my lovely wife get something wonderful?"
"Indeed." She grinned up cheekily. "And I am not going to share."
"There, um, there is no need." You pulled another box from your other pocket and Julius' eye brightened, that golden shimmer growing. "If you'd like?"
"I would love anything you'll gift me," Julius said, voice dipping a bit to something private, just for you. 
He accepted the box, his fingertips brushing yours softly as well, warm and slightly calloused. You curled your hands in, as though you could somehow hold both their touch close this way. Your face started to ache a bit with how much you were smiling now.
Julius opened his box, eyes widening slightly, before he looked up, his smile sweet and charmed. "This is wonderful, thank you."
"I hope you like it, both of you. And that I chose well." You resisted the urge to rock a little on your feet, something your spouse had always hated. You paused. Well, now you had to do it, even if it was just to spite the dark memories in your mind. "You gave me back more than I can put into words."
"Seeing a smile on your face is reward enough," Julius said and for a moment you swore he was about to reach out, before catching himself. "Happiness is a lovely look on you."
"I am happy." And you were. For the first time in far too long, you were happy again.
Ever since you had gotten rid of that house, ever since you had gotten your life back, no matter the struggle and darkness that liked to creep through your mind like seeping tar, happiness and light found you. 
It wriggled in through the cracks, surprised you on calm, sunshine mornings and came in the shape of your new, soft little cat. Every time you ate something sweet that had been forbidden before, every time you picked up a book your spouse would have taken away, it felt like you were stitching yourself back together. Crooked maybe, and never like you were before, but...this was already so much more than you had dared to hope for half a year ago.
"We could take a break," Milly offered, gesturing at the currently empty store. "Would you like to join us for tea, darling?"
The question held a tinge of promise and you found you wanted to reach for it. You found you were ready for what might be offered. "I would love to, thank you."
Milly smiled and went to close the store for the afternoon, while Julius guided you to the backroom, his hand a warm, light and most of all, welcome weight at your back.
You didn't care what they were, if they were human or not. You didn't care what they did to people like your spouse. Not when being in their presence made you feel as though you were wrapped in a blanket spun out of gentle, warm sunshine.
*.*.*
Part Two!
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i went out the other day and ran across some nice dresses so ofc i had to draw @sunnyys-jarss's roommate au boys in them! (If you haven't checked out their au, do so, they've got a fun blog at @ask-the-atwr-au!) Forgive me for the poor form of dresses and poses; I'm not very used to drawing people in formal clothing, so this was good practice!
(without color under the cut)
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brightdeadthing · 8 months
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if you would like, a web weaving on changelings?
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jean-paul sartre / blue kid / holly black / clarice lispector / @a-story-of-atoms / andrés cerpa / natalie wee / silas denver melvin (x2) / the amazing devil / ada limón
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felixcatton · 2 months
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it's 1:30 am and i'm thinking about how logan and rory both grow up feeling like their lives aren't really theirs. how logan uses risk and impulse as a way to feel some semblance of control over his life in response to his father's control. how in contrast, rory spends her life with a tight grip on just about everything, clings to safety and a clear path forward, because she worries that her success is the thing holding her and her mom's life together.
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yayforocs · 2 months
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👉👈 so @silverskye13 i saw this and..............
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had to make an aron helsmet!!!!!! this was really hecking fun to think about actually like what she'd be like n design (which. is a poke at the rp server she was from actually) and also made me sit down and think more on my other minecraft ocs i have sittin around and why they ended up getting redesigns lkdsfh BUT YEAH i!!!!!!!! aron!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#what do i. tag this as. sdklfjslk#i mean ig since it's like??? she's a concept from it i should???#redstone and skulk#aron#a lotta the stuff aron goes through in her character arc in the rps has to do with like. she has her stuff that she's comfortable doing#and stuff that she's not#and after trying and trying and trying to go outside her comfort zone and help ppl around her in a Better Way#feels like she's just not good at it and should give up and go back to what she was doing before#-only to find out through A Lot Of Events that no she actually was learning even tho she didn't realize it and she was getting better#and she was actually helping#and also. it was. kind of impossible for her to go back anyway. jlsdf.#sO i thought her helsmet would be more of the 'stick with what i know and don't leave that' kinda thing!!!#leaning into her minecraft roots; she was originally a redstoner/demolitionist (i mean she's still a demo but)#so her helsmet would- if following that idea- be Really Hecking Good at redstone#but only stick to redstone bc No I'm Not Trying Anything Else#also aron had a lot of problems trusting people she shouldn't and it really bit her back so there's that aspect too!!!#...also is it just me or does this pic feel very Camish like i don't know what it is about the style bc i tried smth different#and when i finished i looked at it and went 'huh. this looks like camish drew it.'#I WILL ALSO!! make more!! of my other minecrafters!!! i just underestimated how much thought i would be putting into making helsmets sdlkfj#but they are bouncing around in my brain!!! and i will draw them once i can get them to stay still long enough to realize what they are!!!
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fic-ideas-for-you · 10 months
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Tons of Hobie fics revolving around piercings, but I raise you a reader that has more piercings than him.
I feel like he'd just be impressed if you had more piercings than him. Would also probably want to give you another one.
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seaweedstarshine · 3 months
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Sources: Nightmare in Silver (+ TV Tropes haha •ᴗ•), Night Terrors, Flesh and Stone, The Day of the Doctor Novelization, The Day of the Doctor, Amy's Choice, The Crimson Horror Novelization, The Doctor's Wife
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sciderman · 5 months
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i relate to peter parker because i’ve had six crushes this year alone
damn son save some for the rest of us!!
#sci speaks#i think i've only ever had one crush in my life. wilding. i wish i fell in love easier. it feels wonderful.#oh the people with hyperactive hearts...#i wish i had felt this way at some point when i was younger. it kind of felt like my heart wasn't fully developed yet.#holds my heart in my hands. why were you such a late bloomer. why didn't you feel more things earlier on.#i'm kind of sad that i didn't have teenage crushes or anything. i feel like i missed out.#is it because nobody around me was appealing. or is it because i was too busy on my own planet.#i think i wasn't really close with a lot of people when i was younger. i kind of never came out of my shell.#so nobody got close enough to me for me to like them.#not that it's necessarily how it works. but it takes a lot for me to get there with somebody i think.#i think a lot of the relationships i've been in i'm still To This Day not even sure if i actually liked them back in that way.#squeezes my heart in my hand. why are you so fussy.#i wish i had more experiences under my belt. i really do. but also i don't want to be in situations that are uncomfortable either.#and i don't want to just be there for the sake of it.#lies on the floor and stares at the ceiling. i don't know what i want.#is love the answer?#i don't know. sometimes i want it more than anything. but it's such a ball-ache to get. sometimes you think you're better off without it.#i wish i knew what i wanted. i think i just want to be brave enough to find out.#why do i ramble so much in my tags. it's like tumblr is my therapist or something.#i'm feeling weird about myself lately. just kind of a little tired. i don't feel bad. but kind of perpetually low-energy.#like i never have the time to do things that make me happy. and when i do get the time i don't have the energy.#is this what it's like to live in this world. i need like. a year's break from work. i think.#i need like a year-long vacation. i need a gap year. i need a year to live life.#i wonder if it's financially viable. i think i'd eat through everything i have if i did that. but.#you can get money back. you can't get your time back.
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goldkirk · 2 months
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as I'm going back over my past history and items and journals and years, I come across all sorts of things, like the pencil I saved from that so-precious memory from second grade, and a pair of flip flops I've been missing for two years, and (tw for murder/crime/killings) the modern-high-school-AU-kidnapped-by-a-serial-killer story I wrote in late high school jdfsjdfsjkjlksfd
#i can't wait to find out what red flags I didn't see in my own self back when I last read this thing in 2015 hfdhfdhjsfd#also. there's gonna be like a good sentence here and there and then CRINGE. the whole rest of everything is just me still trying to copy th#breathing pace (essentially) and ways-of-describing-things of mainstream authors like I thought I was supposed to#so this'll be somewhat painful but also god what a joy and a gift and an honor and a delight to get to hold this close to my heart#and witness it with understanding and empathy and slow reflection and care like my past younger self deserves#i'm so lucky i'm alive to be here and do this#i'm so grateful i'm headed towards welcoming back and embracing the last little girl i was that still felt a lot of things#so excited for her focus and precision and tenacity and constant curious joy and movement to be back someday#i'm afraid people won't like the me i was before rule after rule and then dangers#but my god it'll feel so good to be the fully-flowing energy machine and dance and conduit again how will I have enough bother to care?#people who are good to each others' nervous systems cumulatively feel better and better#if i'm not good for you and yours then you really truly SHOULD go elsewhere and find someone who makes YOUR self feel right and light + war#anyway now that i wrote an essay in the tags as usual [nervous laughter]#personal#add to journal#words n rhythm#WHY DID I FEEL CAPABLE OF UNDERTAKING A STORY LIKE THIS#cradling my past self gently but also BANGING my HEAD against the WALL lmao#i'm proud of myself for writing and sharing this and its creative ideas. even if i don't like it now or feel ashamed or see mistakes.#anything. it mattered that it came to me and it mattered that i explored it and it mattered that i poured myself through it to help shape i#and it mattered that I left it on the internet so that now it still exists. i'm going to honor this story no matter what current me would#objectively think about it if it was written by anyone else.#this is a gift i give myself now.#this is a lot of what I learn and learn to do#trauma evolution#mosswrites
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Ooooooohhhhhhh now I’m thinking of an Izzy with an Ella Enchanted style curse on him hhhhhhhhhh
Read-more cause this got away from me lmfao
He keeps it fairly under wraps for most of his life, sets out to sea at twelve, gets picked up by a press gang at seventeen. He manages, its  expected, for a sailor to follow orders on a navy ship, after all (of course ��no’ isn't an option available to him anyway).
They get boarded by pirates when he's about twenty one and he’s taken on as part of their crew, the captain is after crew more than loot, tells him he should join (saying ‘no’ would have just had him killed, and he's doing his very best to live).
Some time after, he's nearing twenty five, they’re raided by another ship, the Ranger. Benjamin Hornigold likes a ruthless sailor (a ruthless pirate) and Israel Hands has never allowed himself to be anything but. He decides he wants to keep this one. He offers, Izzy accepts. Ben tells him to kill his former captain (wouldn’t have said ‘no’ even if he could have, the man was a bastard).
He earns a reputation of being kind of a kiss-ass, he doesn’t really mind, it keeps most people from asking questions. But Ben’s got his pet projects Edward Teach and John ‘Jack’ Rackham and they’re both too sharp for their own good (though, Jack is better at playing dumb). They notice its not just Captain’s orders he follows to the letter, but everyone’s. They test him, subtly at first, but eventually they show their hand. Tell him that they know there’s more to Izzy’s obedience than he lets on.
He’s terrified for how they might use this against him (the usual ways, which most men abused without even knowing about his curse, easier, safer to let them think he wanted it) but they tell him they don’t want to take his agency from him like that. They offer to help him. He’s not sure whether to trust it (he knows, by rights, he shouldn’t) but he can’t say ‘no’ to ‘trust us, let us help’ (whether Edward is aware of the command, Izzy will never know, decades later Edward doesn’t even remember what he said to convince him).
So they stick by him, as best they can, if someone gives an order he doesn’t want to follow they’ll tell him, quietly as they can, not to. It works, for the most part. Though eventually, Ben notices Izzy’s not quite as obedient anymore (though he still never says ‘no’ to his captain’s orders). He doesn’t like that. He notices Izzy’s been spending more time around Teach and Rackham, decides they’re bad influences (he intends them to captain other ships in his fleet, they’re allowed to push back on orders, Izzy will never have a command of his own, he is not). He separates them. Puts Teach and Rackham on the Marianne with the flimsy excuse of ‘getting practice in’. (he sees them off with Izzy at his side, a claiming hand on his shoulder, Ed and Jack aren't sure how they manage it, but they don't try to kill him right then and there) They now only ever see each other when they all make port. Its a trying few months (for Ed and Jack, for Izzy. . .).
They meet at port one last time (apart, at least). Edward has a plan. They’re going to mutiny. They’ve been stirring the pot on the Marianne (whispers had already started before they got there, not too many of the crew were happy to miss out on loot just because Ol’ Ben had an apparent soft spot for the Crown). He presses his knife into Izzy's hands. Tells him, back on the ship, when everyone else is asleep, he’s to slip into the captain’s cabin and kill Ben, in his sleep, so he can’t order him to stop (Izzy is never sure if he would have said ‘no’ to that unintentional order, had he been able).
The mutiny goes off without a hitch (Ben wakes when the knife plunges into his throat, but he can’t give orders around the steel and the blood that choke him). Edward makes Izzy his first mate, gives Jack the Marianne. He and Izzy go on to create a legend.
Things are good, for a long while they're good. Edward is an inventive and charismatic captain, the crew love him and the loot he leads them to, and Izzy's position (and Edward's possessive protectiveness over him) means that anyone who dares order Israel Hands around, that doesn't have the title of 'his captain', meets a quick end.
Unfortunately, for Izzy, 'good' never tends to last. He'd hoped (and damn him for daring to hope) that he was free, as free as he could be, from his curse, sailing under Edward (Blackbeard), and he was. For a while. Its about a decade later when Edward starts to get bored. He never orders Izzy to do anything degrading or dangerous (more dangerous than he can handle at least) but it still hurts somewhere deep in his chest the first time Edward gives a casual order and doesn't look to see if Izzy wants to follow it.
They come across Jack every now and again. It always takes him a bit to readjust to Izzy, to remember he needs to phrase things as suggestions rather than orders, he always manages eventually. (that little pain in his chest digs a little deeper when he notices Edward avoids giving him orders when Jack is around, though he can't say why) Their crossing paths wind up fewer and farther between as the years go on. One notable visit involved Jack asking Edward to marry him and Anne Bonny ('why not just have your first mate do it?' 'Annie is my first mate, man, 'sides, I want my two best buds to be there for it!'). Izzy isn't sure what to make of Edward's renewed willingness to run into Jack afterwards (only knows that the pain in his chest grows all the sharper for it, and at seeing Jack, happy with Anne, he feels a bit monstrous about that). It doesn't matter much in the end, things go back to normal once Mary/Mark (depending on the day) Read enters the picture and (mostly) steals Annie away from Jack.
And suddenly Izzy finds himself at fifty five, on a beach, wondering ‘what kind of fucking idiot runs his ship aground‘. Edward is intrigued, Izzy can't tell him 'no'.
He hates the Revenge with every fiber of his being. None of the crew listen to him, Edward doesn't back him up (and neither do Fang or Ivan, following their captain's lead). The first time one of the crew gets it into their head to give him a mocking order he nearly passes out with the force it takes him to not jump to the task immediately. He retreats to his cabin later and vomits at the feeling of violation he hasn't felt in decades (he tells himself he hasn't felt it, Edward is his captain, above all else is loyalty to his captain, his own feelings don't matter).
He hates stupid fucking Stede Bonnet most of all. Hates him for putting a light back in Edward's eyes that hasn't been there for a long while. Hates his pompous attitude, his flippant disregard for the institution of piracy, how little he seems to actually care for the safety and well-being of his own men (leave alone the danger he poses to Edward). Most of all he hates that he calls him 'Iggy'.
So when he challenges him to a duel, and he accepts, its only for Edward's sake that he sets the terms at 'banishment' and not 'death'. When he loses he finds he rather wished it had been to the death. (he doesn't understand, Edward wanted this, he hadn't even told him to stop, hadn't ordered him to stop)
He retreats to Spanish Jackie'z to lick his wounds and to work out a plan to pull Edward out of the steady march towards his own demise that he faces aboard the Revenge. Jackie, Izzy is fairly certain, knows about his curse to some extent (he suspects she doesn't abuse the knowledge for the sake of having a bargaining chip, should she need it), she talks him out of any corners the navy bloke with a grudge against Stede Bonnet inadvertently walks him into. She also runs him into Jack Rackham (and Izzy realizes, at the sight of the silver starting to peek its way through his dirty blond, that its been nearly ten years since they've last seen each other, that pain in his chest not any duller for it) and the last piece of the plan falls into place. Jack tries to talk him out of it, says its not a good idea, even offers him a position on his own ship (not that its his ship to offer anymore, since Annie took over captaincy and made Mary/Mark her first mate, but they've both always had a soft spot for Izzy on account of Jack's soft spot for Izzy, they'd be more than willing), not once does he order though and Izzy can't let Edward keep doing this to himself. Jack will understand when he sees him, Izzy says. Jack goes.
(Izzy hears, when the navy gunners crow triumphantly about hitting the dinghy, the one that Jack and Edward were in, the one that Edward jumped out of, he tells himself not to let it show when that pain in his chest comes back twenty-fold at the thought)
Edward claims the Act of Grace. He and Stede Bonnet leave to lick the king’s boots. Izzy doesn't make it a single day as captain. Edward comes back just before he goes overboard with the anchor to follow. He comes back wrong. Izzy can't take it. Edward can't take it.
The Kraken wakes and Izzy is introduced to the concept of a living hell. (even the captive crew stop trying to give him orders, at the haunted look in his eye, when they see how the Kraken orders him around, when he discovers Spriggs alive, if a lot worse for the wear, he doesn't even need the order to keep it under wraps, he doesn't want to know what the Kraken would order him to do if the boy is found out, he shudders at the thought)
When stupid fucking Stede Bonnet (and his marooned crew) finds his way back to the Revenge Izzy allows himself a single moment to feel relieved. Until, at least, the Kraken orders him to kill the man. He can't. He fights. The crew are all shouting at him not to, it eases the strain. The Kraken levels his pistol at his head, the crew goes silent.
'Israel, I order you to kill Stede Bonnet'.
His sword is in his hand. Stede's gotten better with his own sword, is managing to hold his own against Izzy (in truth, its mostly due to Izzy straining to not follow the order, but there is a marked improvement). The Kraken growls 'Kill him Izzy, fucking- kill him!' Izzy loses his sword to the mast again (he's grateful this time), his knife is in his hand a second later. He's got less reach than Stede does but Stede is trying not to hurt him. Why is he trying not to hurt him?
'Bonnet. Bonnet, you have to stop me. I can't. I can't kill you. I can't let him do that to himself. You have to. Run me through. Right here-' he taps his chest with his free hand, the one that isn't swinging the knife around, the left side, right over his heart '-only way to stop this. He might even listen to you afterwards.'
'Izzy. Izzy no.' In his shock, Stede lowers his sword. Izzy swears as he knocks it out of his hand. Presses close, crowds him against the doors to the captain's cabin, knife against his throat.
'Just fucking kill him already!'
A bead of blood wells under the tip of the blade. Izzy meets his own eyes in the polished reflection of his knife.
'Izzy stop fucking around and do what I told you to!'
His hands shake with the weight of the order. There are tears in his eyes, he can see them in his reflection.
A memory comes, unbidden: He, Edward, and Jack hiking through dense jungle to find a witch that Jack thinks might be able to break his curse, or at least tell them how to break it themselves. Her words 'I cannot break this curse Israel, this is something you must do for yourself. I can tell you this, however, to do this you'll need to face yourself. Face yourself and free yourself. That is all I can say, I'm sorry, I'd tell you more if I could.' They'd left disappointed, Jack cursing about scams and 'you can't even trust witches these days, man', Edward contemplatively silent.
Face yourself and free yourself. Izzy's eyes flick upwards to Stede's concerned face, back down to the blade. He meets his own eyes again.
'Izzy-' The rest of the Kraken's words go unheard.
Izzy tells himself, voice scarcely more than a breath: 'You will not be obedient.'
He feels, more than sees, Stede's gasp. He ignores it. His hand still wants to press the knife upwards. He tries again.
'You will not be obedient.' A little louder this time.
'The fuck did you just say-' Again.
'You will not be obedient!'
The knife flies across the deck, lands with a clatter. Silence (but for the sound of Izzy's labored breaths).
He turns, ignores the shocked crew, meets Edward's wide eyes with his own watery ones (when had the tears started falling so freely?).
'. . . Iz. . . ?'
Everything goes black.
#the dork is being a dork#izzy hands#jack rackham#mmmm i feel safe enough tagging#edward teach#stede bonnet#am i ever going to be able to imagine a cj that isn't in love with izzy? all signs point to 'no' lmfao#izzy is also in love with jack if that wasn't obvious#problem is a bit two-fold in that he's also still in love with ed AND there was an unintentional order in 'above all else is loyalty to your#captain' so even if he was emotionally aware enough to realize they were mutually in love he wouldn't have done anything about it#cj is the world's number one izzy respecter he worked SO hard to make sure izzy never had to do anything he didn't want to do#also he 100% survived the navy guys saw him survive but they didn't like izzy cause he's a pirate so they wanted to fuck with him#he finds his way back to the revenge sometime later (maybe with anne and mary/mark with him) and BEGS izzy to come with him#they compromise and start a fleet (jack stays on the revenge more often than not cause izzy stays on the revenge more often than not)#this COULD turn into stackedhands but its mostly cjizzy#and izzy/people who actually care about him and his well-being#which does start to include the crew post kraken#anyway izzy wakes up later in the captain's cabin and there are several uncomfortable talks to be had#(also i don't necessarily think ed realized he wasn't ordering izzy when jack was around)#(it was kind of like falling into old habits)#(while also knowing subconsciously that jack WOULD rock his shit for doing that to izzy)#(same with avoiding him thru the years)#(he knew he was fucking up with izzy but wasn't ready to face it and let himself be held accountable the way jack would make him do)
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sugaroto · 9 months
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Ok so I've seen some polls that put different weird things from shows so people can guess which didn't happen
And bc I've lost most of my brain cells watching misfits I decided to make a poll about it
Making this poll I realize the show was very obsessed with sexual stuff
Also don't watch it. I watched it for Robert Sheehan and the first 3 seasons were fun with him but the show is fucking weird
Rip brain cells
*Also its been years since I watched the show and I don't remember most of it but I'm 95% sure these happened except one that I came up with right now
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freya-faust · 6 months
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freya freya freya hey hi hello!!!! i saw on your sideblog you were in mipha botw hell and as an older-game loz fan who's never played any of the newer games i would love to hear your thoughts on mipha and botw in general if you're willing to share!!!!! i hope you're doing well btw❤❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
KATE!!!!!!!!! hi hi hello ✨❤️💓💖💘❤️💓 Hi, Kate ❤️💘💖💘❤️♥️✨ I've actually gone on an unhinged rant about Mipha somewhere here before, but I didn't tag it so it's. Gone now. But yes, I will gladly do it again 💖
okay, so. First of all. I gotta be level with you, Kate: I've never played a single Zelda game in my life. I'm insane about Mipha in the way that I am standing outside BotW's house and staring into its windows. LoZ fans hate me because I break in occasionally and take pictures and say things and then leave (no fans have any idea I exist). THAT BEING SAID. I did watch a bunch of lore videos for all the Zelda games AND skim through a BotW playthrough several times, so I did research! This whole caveat is to say I know what I'm talking about, but also maybe perhaps I absolutely don't and you shouldn't listen to me maybe but also do. Anyway <3
I don't have many thoughts about BotW itself (I think about getting it every other day, but Nintendo will never put it on sale so it is but a pipe dream), except what is evident/always covered: it's so? Profoundly sad? Like, they put Link to sleep for several years in OoT, only to decide that that was too messed up and reverse it. AND THEN THEY DO IT AGAIN HERE? FOR 100 YEARS?? AND HE DOESN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING??? AND THEN WHEN HE DOES REMEMBER, EVERYTHING TELLS HIM HIS LIFE FROM BEFORE JUST KIND OF SUCKED???? MESSED UP. FREE HIM. What happens to Link is just SO MUCH, and I think BotW does a really good job of driving home that idea of how inescapable his, Zelda's, and Ganondorf's fates are. But everything I find sad about BotW as a whole gets amplified when I think about Mipha, so let's talk about her.
I'll be the first to admit that I have a type when it comes to female characters, and the reason I'm obsessed with Mipha is pretty much the same reason I'm obsessed with Iris and Susato: she's a profoundly kind and gentle woman with something deeply wrong/tragic about her way down inside. That might sound strange because, at first glance, Mipha's tragedy seems obvious. It's the same as the other Champions: she's dead. But I feel like the real tragedy lies in the preservation of her memory -- or lack thereof.
I'm not sure how familiar you are with BotW's lore and characters, but Mipha essentially occupies the same role Marin/Malon/Midna kind of did in the older games. She's the woman (with a name that starts with 'M' and has red hair/scales for some reason) who's known Link for a significant amount of time, and (for the others, may have been; for Mipha, definitely was) in love with him, though this love usually doesn't end well. To my understanding, it's never made clear in BotW how much the prev games and their lore is known/canon to the game, but there are references to them. Mipha in her diary, for example, makes reference to Ruto. I bring this up because I feel like, to an extent, Mipha knew of her place in Hyrule's history. I think she was ready to die.
There's this thing about Mipha's lines that sometimes comes across as almost... wilfully ignorant? to me? That's not to say that she's oblivious or naive about her position -- I'd argue it's the exact opposite. She sees the danger, she sees the near-futility of their cause, and she chooses to push through anyway. I'm not sure it's optimism, I don't even know if it's duty. She just seems... ready to die. To sacrifice herself for her people and, not insignificantly, Link. There's a cutscene that shows the point when she agreed to directly involve herself in the fight against Ganon, and I've always found it rather telling. For one, she only really seems to mentally commit herself to being a Champion after Zelda says Link is to be one himself, but also she says this line when she agrees to it:
"One day, Princess, I must leave him (referring to her little brother, Sidon). To face my fate with Ruta."
And it's so!!! It's so. Fatalistic, almost? To my memory, none of the other Champions really ever say anything to that final an effect. They all acknowledge the danger of the fight, of course, and the possibility of death lingers at the edges, but Mipha's is direct. She says, "I must leave him to face my fate". You could argue she just means to go to war, and that she doesn't mean she'll have to leave him until much later, but that doesn't add up with the "with Ruta" part. It very much comes across like she means she is going to die in the fight against the Calamity. Like she knows it. And she smiles afterwards. It's insane!!!! I think about that line all the time. Why I say 'wilfully ignorant' is because, despite the fact that she seems pretty sure she's going to die, she simultaneously talks about having a future with Link. She writes about telling him she loves him, and makes him engagement armour (BotW Zora thing. Functions like a ring would) and, in one of her final moments with him, talks about how "once things are over... perhaps (they) can spend some time together". It's this complicated state of double-think that appears to exist in her, and I don't know which she even truly believes!! Does she believe both somehow?? I don't know! And you know why I don't know? Because no one seems to remember she was even like that!!!!!
I am. Taking a breath. The thing about Mipha's character, story, and memory is that they exist nearly as foils to Link's own. Link was chosen by Fate to fight the Calamity, he survives, his memory exists in Hyrule as a vague, hazy compilation of stories, and he is defined by everything that comes after the Calamity. Mipha saw the end of her journey in a tomb and she lay in it of her own free will, she does not rise again, her memory is a fresh wound that her kingdom and family carry with them every day, and she is defined by her death. Arguably, all the Champions share this relationship with Link, but it's that point about living memory that I think makes her stick out.
None of the other Champions have people who knew them personally still alive by the time Link wakes (barring the Sheikah, but. They're not important right now). Mipha, however, does. Her father still reigns, her brother has grown, her teachers and friends walk the grounds of her kingdom. You would think that would make her the most defined Champion, but that's the thing. She isn't. Everyone in Zora's Domain talks about Mipha. They mention how kind she was, how gentle and dutiful and brave, but no one really talks about who she was. It isn't just the fact that they don't mention how strangely ready she was to be brave, either. In AoC, we see a lot more of her, and you can tell that she's quick to laugh, she gets flustered fairly easily, and she tends to wear her emotions on her sleeve. In BotW, no one tells you that. They only talk about her as the perfect, poised princess who sacrificed herself for the sake of her kingdom, and you kind of get the impression that the Mipha they knew and the Mipha who stands as a statue in the middle of their kingdom are one and the same. She's always going to be that flawless princess who gave her kingdom everything because that's who she was to them. Zora's Domain didn't make a martyr of her; Mipha did that to herself. She lived for other people, and then she died for them. The one person who should have known her for who she was, the one she knew from when he was a child, whom she loved to the point of dying for, doesn't even remember her. You know what makes it worse, though? It's that what causes Link to remember her is the statue. And then you realise oh. He never really knew her either, did he?
Link and Mipha's relationship is... painful. HAHAH It's the core of her character; it pushes her to become a Champion and it's what keeps her spirit hoping after she dies. He is a part of what makes her Mipha, that's just how it is. So when you think about how her memory has faded from him till all that's left is the image of the girl with the perfect smile whose last words to him included the oath, "I will always protect you" -- giving herself to other people, never asking anything for herself just as her kingdom remembers her -- it hurts! But... it was also kind of inevitable. How Mipha loves Link is tied, at least imo, again to her willful ignorance thing. Despite all of her plans, she never actually tells Link how she feels. Now, whether Link would have reciprocated or not is up for debate and irrelevant. What matters is that I think Mipha thought he wouldn't and that her love was doomed for failure (fun fact: she actually uses that phrasing in her diary. 'My heart is drawn to his. I am doomed.' Very dramatic, utterly adorable. I love her sm). In her diary, she implies she's worried about Link's closeness to Zelda when he first becomes her knight, despite the fact that Zelda clearly doesn't like him at that point. Tying that back to how I think she has some understanding of her role in the story, and you start to see why she might avoid that. It stops her from really understanding him, too. She never pushes enough to see past his armour. You know how Feenris is all about how they both saw each other at their truest despite everything that happened, and how they always knew each other at their core? MiphLink is like. The inverse of that to me. They both love each other dearly (in whatever form that is), but they've never quite understood who the other person is. It's two people who deeply want to be understood but don't know how to be. And then it just ends.
As usual, I don't know how to end this post. I think, just like, as a summary on why I'm obsessed with Mipha, it comes down to that idea that she was alive, yet everyone only seems to remember her like she was dead from the start. And it's so. Sad. And connected to that idea that you can't just be that perfect person all the time if you want to be loved, and known, and understood for who you really are. The game makes it a point of stating how independent of a person she was. Her final words to her father, as a spirit, are, "I want you to know I have always followed my heart", but when that heart is so attuned to other people, can you really say it's still yours? It's just so tied to that notion that love is inconvenience. It is being a burden, it is showing another person with the parts of you that aren't easy and trusting them to accept you anyway. You can't always be the ideal person and hope you are known regardless. It's just. The tragedy of her giving away so much of herself for all her life, and having so little to be remembered for at the end of it. It gets to me.
In essence, me when I think about Mipha:
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#everyone clap it's kate. kate is here. did you know every time kate turns up in my notifs i gain 5000+ joy. amazing.#this post is a MESS. every time i'm asked about a character i genuinely love i can't articulate anything about them.#no idea if anything here connects or means something. im just. i love her so much. im pointing at her and crying. on the floor. in shambles#mipha#this is still more coherent than the posts ive tried to write for susato. unreal. i hope you enjoyed the absolute nonsense i typed#getting tagged so i can find it in the future HAHA#anyway thank you so much for the ask kate 💖💘💕♥️💗♥️💓♥️💕💕💖 i hope it... made vague sense. and i hope you're well too!!!!!!#💕💗💕💗💗♥️♥️❤️♥️💞💕❤️💖💗💕💓💖💓💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💕💞❤️#to add on to the whole 'giving herself to other people thing' because i dont think i explained that well enough in the post#it's heavily implied that mipha kind of raised her brother since their mom died so young. she would have been fairly young herself then so#her whole life has basically been about looking after other people even beyond her duties as a ruler#ANOTHER thing i didn't put in which makes me insane is her line in the DLC where she asks link how much she remembers of her#and ends with 'If you can't recall those memories then I suppose it can't be helped. As for me I shall never forget.'#and it's so!!!!! grabbing her and shaking her!! why is nothing ever for you!!! you cant live like this!!!!#anyway im so normal. im so normal about her and everything haha wow. so so normal.#more superficial/obvious reasons i love mipha include: she's so pretty she has a voice like glass she moves so gracefully she is so strong#physically and mentally. she takes everything dealt to her with a smile even her death (love her 'we shall anihilate ganon together :)')#line. she's just everything#can you believe i joined a SERVER for her kate. i dont do or say anything but. i did it#i usually keep unhinged rants like this off my blog so sorry to anyone who clicked the read more and saw all that#kate's used to seeing me be batshit on my side blog 💓💖♥️💕♥️💕💖❤️ thank u kate ily ❤️💞💕💞💖💗💖💘💓💕💗❤️#asks#botw
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heksen-sabbat · 10 months
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‘Harry the Head’ by Brian Bolland for ‘The Residents: Freak Show’ (1992)
Full 10-page comic under Read More!
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fleshdyke · 25 days
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hchkvgjvfj
#csa warning for tags#goddd being raped at 6ish and brutally bullied is a hell of a combination#i was the one kid in not only my grade but multiple above and below me as well that the boys would dare each other to 'ask out'#absolutely CONSTANTLY. like jesus#by the time i was raped i'd already been bullied pretty badly for a while. including being constantly told i was ugly by all the boys#which is like. a huge reason i was raped in the first place. i still dont know who it was but i can only assume he took advantage of me#being constantly bullied to abuse me. as child rapists so often do#but like i was always the one that would be 'asked out' as a dare bc why would any of them want to talk to me#it was so inconceivable that any of them could want to be near me let alone 'go out' with me. they didn't even bother trying to hide the way#they laughed. like they didn't try to hide it bc they knew no one would do anything#and this happening to me fucking constantly for years on end throughout my ENTIRE childhood. that fucks with you man#like i dont think its even possible for anyone to like being around me at all. let alone find me attractive#there's still never been a single person who's had a crush on me or whatever#like all my friends have stories about annoying boys having crushes on them when they were younger. and what does it say about me that im#the complete opposite. and like it's so stupid because who fucking cares what 10 year old boys thought in 2016 but it really really fucks#you up bad man. like if anyone ever does come to be attracted to me for whatever reason i dont think im ever going to be able to believe it#i'm always going to be waiting for the joke to end and them to start laughing. i'll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop#and the worst part of it all is that i fucking want to be raped again#being raped as a little kid is the only time anyone has ever wanted me. it's the only time i've ever been desired. and i dont even like sex#but it's just the only time anyone has ever loved me in a non parental way#like i have one crush story to all my friends'. and it was a grown man that raped me when i was little#and i want to be raped again so fucking badly not because i would enjoy it but because it would prove that someone actually fucking wants me#i want to be sexually harassed and not in the way i usually am. i want to be catcalled and have to be scared walking around alone#i want men to grope me and say disgusting things and rape me because then i would finally be fucking wanted#it would prove that i'm actually likeable in some capacity. that i still am#im so scared that now that im grown im just a lost cause. because i was only desirable when i was little. now im just nothing#and i know i shouldnt even care but its so fucking hard to shake. i just want someone to love me#and i love my mom so much but i want them to love me because they want to and not because they have to#rambles#vent
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skullzy20 · 3 months
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Hi warframe community does anyone know if the warframes that have gotten prime variants since duviri came out (wisp, grendel, eventually gauss) are gonna be available in the circuit eventually orrr
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