i think the demanding lines hit the hardest, usually they're more mean or assertive, like Whitney's is "You can't just fuck me whenever you want, Whitney!" Or for Alex its: "Alex, you idiot! Control yourself." but Robin's feel desperate and like you know they won't listen
To me, it's the "not you too".
"N-no... not you, too..."
That phase straight-up broke my heart. Why? The sheer amount of disbelief and desperation contained in that one single unfinished sentence. To could only manage to utter out so much, what kind of pain must lie beneath?
They grew up together knowing no one than each other. PC also realized they're Robin's only friend when they re-visited the youthward. They're basically "family".
Romantically or platonically, they TRUST each other. In that hell of a town, if there is only ONE good person who would never, ever, harm them, they will no doubt know it's the other. They only have each other to lean on and keep hope alive.
Now imagine that only one good person, their only sparkle of light in the dark, their only "family", one day, betray them, violate them in the way every other demon in that hell would and did.
How would that feel?
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I've been having a severe PTSD episode for over five hours and it never registered because spending half the day in helpless fits of obsessive, murderous, paralysing rage is the nothing out of the ordinary for me. "Oh, I'm just an angry person like that" yes because I'm constantly triggered, retriggered and retraumatized by living disabled and dependent on Satan, who happens to be my egg donor.
It doesn't seem like I'll ever really internalise that these rages are PTSD episodes, especially since I'm a woman and therefore socially conditioned not to harm anyone except myself (that's a privilege reserved for six foot cis het men in charge of families who do the traumatizing). But in case it does anyone else good to hear: you aren't an "angry person". You have Complex PTSD. The rage outs are the exact equivalent of panic attacks and disassociation that Hollywood likes to show. The need to FIGHT is as a visceral, animal, instinctive and uncontrollable as the need for flight, to fawn, or to freeze. You aren't angry. You're fucking terrified and trapped and very, very ill.
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I'm thinkin abt Anno rn and like
Imagine loving a Masked (romantically, platonically, or otherwise)
Wether you're an employee or a monster or whatever, you have a lovely little masked by your side all the time, and you collect scrap or hunt or just exist until eventually their body starts to deteriorate
And as a person, an organic thingy, you think it's dying and you mourn and spend your last days together, until eventually, one day, they stop moving
And then a few days later you notice the mask has fallen off, and you bring it with you as a keepsake, holding it with you for days, or weeks, or months, or maybe even years. Before eventually you just can't help it, you need to feel them, to see them, to hear them, to smell them, and you just need to be close to them again, and you bring the mask up to your face, it potentially fitting around your features perfectly, and it's like you feel them and see them and smell them again.
And then you feel their consciousness, and from her either can go two ways
Drunk on love and the grief of potentially reconnecting, you can't bring yourself to move the mask away, it feels like they're right there with you, you need to stay like this, because they feel so close. And eventually, the mask connects. And you can hear them and feel them and smell them again, but they're not there, they are but it's because they're within you. You share the same skin, you look with the same eyes and touch with the same hands, and you're perfectly together, whole once again, but in a new way that can never separate you two ever again. (*)
Or, the other option, you manage to pull the mask away, connecting the dots on what's happening, and you realize if you can just find a host you can have your lovely Masked back. So you spend time, maybe you hunt down a different Masked to use their body, maybe you go for the first humanoid thing you see like an employee or a Bracken, or maybe you are an employee and you send out a request for a new employee, recognizing you're dooming some newbie to death but coming to terms with that fate of theirs in order to have your loved one once again
And, there's a third option that's quite a but angsty beneath the cut
(*) Or, depending on your interpretation or wishes for how the masks work in this scenario, maybe once the make takes hold YOU die. And your poor Masked returns, recognizing this smell, these hands, this voice, and it's yours, but you're gone. And you've left them there, in your body, your decaying body. You had their mask, and their mask was basically immortal. But now? For them? You're gone, and the only physical remnant of you is theirs now, and because of the way their life works, that remnant is decaying, rotting, and eventually turning to dust. And once again they'll just be a mask, slowly falling off a body, waiting for someone to put it on.
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Just watched the last episode of Fionna and cake, and man were these 2 last episodes such a great reminder of like, your life mattering. While I hated Jerry for the existential dread, the last episode made me cry of happiness. It's kinda like nihilism, where you could suddently die and no one but a killing machine would care, and existentialism, you can find your way even though your life isn't magical or really that special.
These were the best 5 weeks of the year by far, watching our old man come to his senses, and fionna come to terms that you can just be ok without needing to change everything in the world. It is kinda cathartic you know?
These last two episodes were so conforting idk, go watch it if you didn't yet, go cry.
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IMAGES OF CHIYOKO HISAKAWA : 1 of ???
once gaining steady income as a mangaka, chiyoko seriously contemplates a more elaborate tattoo; rather than the cute little images she's imagined here and there, she wants something truly stunning to look at. the idea strikes her one morning after managing to spill paint all over her favorite pair of shorts, a deep green running over the blue material and down her calves.
wouldn't it be pretty to paint her skin much like a canvas?
chiyo eventually settled on a design that looks similar to watercolor, and though the visuals above lack much color, chiyo's tattoos are deep blues, purples, and reds that fade into each other, similar to what you see in these images here ( nudity warning, though nothing explicit ). the shading would most resemble the bottom right image, filling empty space with shadow or colored gradient.
her tattoo curls along her right arm, across her chest, and down the left side of her waist, hip, and leg ( as depicted in the bottom left image ). getting to this point has, of course, taken quite a bit of time, especially as chiyo had to grow comfortable enough with her tattoo artist to allow them near parts of her body that are typically concealed. the whole thing has cost her a lot of money and tears, but she's pretty proud of the art she and her tattooist created.
she plans to keep adding to it in the future.
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