#inner pain

[taylortruther]

i do be thinking ttpd is gonna be about her owning her right to be brutally honest in her art, no matter the subject

[seance]

the power is on, the guillotine hums / my back's to the wall - go on, let it fall

[bettdraws]

I want sassy Lucien back. I want him at ease, whistling, strolling into in Velaris with his long hair and perfect attire with no fucks to give like…

“Rhysand, always a pleasure” Sarcasm thick as he pats the High Lord of Night on the back forcefully before diverting his attention to Az and Cassian.

“The charming and broody Illyrians! have you won any snowball fights while I was gone?” A grumble from Azriel. “Damn, that’s a shame”

“Have the humans finally tire of you?” Cassian the only one entertaining his sass and complementing his teasing.

Lucien clicks his tongue. “Oh they did long ago” He places his hands on both Illyrian’s shoulders. “I told them you all miss me and I couldn’t keep you waiting before you died of boredom, so here you got me, at your service gentlemales”

Az and Rhys just roll their eyes, Cassian just shakes his head.

[probablyhuntersmom]

If Hunter found himself in the kind of dream which Eda had

(These aren't leaks, they're a combo of tracing over screenshots and airbrushing :3)

[moonlightdancer26]

I woke up in pure agony but then I realised it’s Snape’s birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MOST BADASS WIZARD OF ALL TIME

[flammenherzblog]

Alles geht weiter, nur ich komm nicht hinterher.

[spyruce]

“i probably spent as much time hating you as you did”

This line drives me balls to the wall insane. Curt’s mind is either racing or unable to comprehend a single thought the whole reason he decided to do this was for nothing he spent all of those years in nothing but grief and guilt and despair for fucking NOTHING. And Owen knows this he knows Curt has repented and suffered and grieved but he doesn’t CARE because it was all his fault. He feels that every second of that suffering and more was deserved. That deep utter loathing and loss.

And it makes me wonder if Owen knew of Curt’s state of mind for the past four years because he was watching him, or if he just knew Curt that well. That Owen just knew Curt so deeply that he was aware he would blame himself and throw himself into isolation and misery and relished in the thought.

It’s lines like this that make me wish that these characters were from a book trilogy or just anything where we could spend more time sitting in these intricacies then a comedy musical (as much as I do love the show) allows for

[mandiemegatron]

ʟᴏꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀ

ᴱᵘˢᵗᵃˢˢ ᴷⁱᵈ ˣ ᶜᶦˢ!ᶠᵉᵐ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ: ꜱᴀᴅ. ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐀 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥!! 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 🤭🤭💖💖💖💖 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 - 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐋𝐌𝐅𝐀𝐎𝐎 😭😭😭😂😂😂 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒! 𝐀 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞!!

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞! 🤭💖

Header by ; @buggyandthebartoclub ♡

One year, three months and fourteen days.

Shaking, furious hands pushed clothing and important items into a duffle bag, heart broken tears streaming down your face as you bit back sobs of anger.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

You could feel Killers eyes staring into your barely contained, rage filled form, smartly staying silent as he watched you pack. After a few moments though, he gently sighed out,

“... I won't make excuses for him.”

You almost snarled at him as you whipped around, the expression on your face causing the long haired man to take a step back in caution. He held his hands up as a white flag, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your wrath.

“Then don't.”

One year, three months and fourteen days.

You tried to block out everything as you walked past Killer, slinging the large bag over your shoulder easily. You broke into silent, angry tears again as you walked past the Captains door, unable to unhear the sounds of pleasure that rang out from inside.

Your heart shattered just a little more as another woman's voice called out his name, causing you to kick his door in a rush of rage before you stomped upstairs and out onto the deck of the Victoria.

Walking past a confused Wire and Heat, the two men sharing a joint and a look with each other as they watched you hop off the ship and onto dry land, surprised you wouldn't even look back when they called your name.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

The first tavern you came across, you walked in with your head down and sat at the bar. You grabbed a couple beris from your pocket and sighed a thanks as the bartender slid you a beer, an almost pitied look on his face.

“You alright, girlie?”

You frowned and sighed for a moment before giving him a slow nod, taking a long glup from the glass before asking,

“You know if any place near here has any rooms for overnight stays? I'm lookin’ to stay on dry land for a while.”

He hummed to himself before calling out a name. A soft, older woman came around from the back, a confused look on her face as the man repeated your question to her in another language. She then nodded and spoke softly to him, throwing you a gentle look before motioning for you to follow her.

“She'll getcha set up. You'll be alright here.”

You gave the man a grateful nod, chugging back the rest of your beer before tossing a few extra beri on the counter for him, and enough for a few nights stay in the room.

“I'm truly thankful.”

You slid off the stool and went to follow the woman, only stopping for a moment to throw over your shoulder,

“If anyone asks, you never saw me.”

The man laughed and replied, “Saw who?” before going back to wiping down the counter. You nodded to yourself with a small smile before following the woman up a set of stairs hidden behind a barely noticeable wooden door.

You must have looked confused because a soft voice came from the woman as she explained,

“You not the first. You not the last.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as tears stung your eyes. You didn't like how she read you a little too well.

Opening the last door on the left, she led you into a cozy but warm room, fitted with a single bed, a fireplace, a table and chair and a small bathtub in the far corner.

“You be safe here.”

She sat you down on the bed, letting your bag drop to the floor with a dull thud. Lifting your face in her aged palms, she gently moved your face from left to right before giving a soft nod. Reaching into one of her apron pockets, she placed a small vial into your hand with a gentle smile.

“Put in bath. You sleep.”

You sniffled and nodded as you replied softly,

“Thank you so much.”

She nodded again and patted your head with a chuckle before moving away from you, humming to herself and she shut the door behind her. The second the door shut, you broke down, your heart shattering into tiny pieces in your chest.

You lifted the pillow to your face and screamed into it, sobbing and wailing into the fabric, thankful for the muffled music and chatter going on downstairs. You hoped no one could hear how loud your heart was breaking.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

That was how long you were worth something to Eustass Kid.

It felt like hours had passed, spent sobbing into the warm pillow until your eyes burned and your throat was sore. The chatter had gotten louder but at this point, you didn't care. You were sure no sleep would come to you tonight.

“Y/N!”

You frowned as the muffled sound of your name met your ears, Eustass’ furious voice shattering through the night like a gun brought to a knife fight. You curled into yourself, pressing your form into the corner of the bed as your name rattled off the small window.

“Damn it, Y/N! Answer me!”

You pressed your palms to your ears with eyes squeezed shut, fighting back the urge to call for him; for him to collect you into his arms, for him to apologize and tell you that you're the only one he needed-

Only silence.

You sobbed tearlessly, ignoring the way your heart lurched into your throat, the feeling of nausea washing over you like a rogue wave.

You hated this.

You hated him.

You waited for what, again, felt like hours. Your name never hit your ears again after that, even as the sun rose above the buildings and trees and filled your room with a gentle warmth. You didn't dare move from your spot, almost frozen in despair, even as night fell once again.

For three days, you only moved to use the washroom across the hall, almost sprinting back into your room, worried someone would spot you. Anxiety crept over you like a sticky blanket, stinking to your skin and making you feel like you were stuck in mud. You slowly munched on whatever food you'd grabbed from the Victoria on your way out, your meager meal lasting you longer than you thought.

“I hope this works,” you moan to yourself as you filled the bath, a lazy hand creating ripples over the top of the water. Your other hand tipped the small vial into the bath, the scent of rosemary, lavender and peaches filling your senses. You sighed softly, a small smile washing over your face for the first time in ages.

You quickly stripped and settled in, throwing a quick glance at the door to make sure the chair was stuck under the knob. No one was getting in without you knowing.

Taking a deep breath, you sunk under the steaming water and stayed under, letting the fragrant water cover you entirely. Your mind was blank, empty as you counted in your head until your lungs began to burn.

You resurfaced with a gasp, a shaky hand pushing back soaked hair from your face and you groaned softly to yourself as a warmth flooded over your insides. You rested in the tub until the water got cold, only removing your depressed and exhausted form from the tub once night fell once more.

Dressed in simple pajamas, you sat in front of the fireplace with your blanket wrapped around you. A half eaten apple sat beside you with a glass of water, the last of your food from the ship filling you with sadness more than satiating your hunger.

You huffed to yourself and wrapped your arms around your legs, your chin resting on your knees as you watched the fire crackle and pop. Strangely, your mind was empty, no raging thoughts running rampant or suffocating you into tears. While the change was welcome, you were almost terrified of falling asleep only to wake up back on the ship.

Slowly, you removed your covered body from the floor to glance out the window towards the port from the side, the blanket covering your head to obscure most of your face just in case anyone from the ship was looking for you.

Your heart dropped through the floor when you saw the empty port, the Victoria Punk gone from sight.

You let the blanket fell from your grasp as bitter tears filled your eyes, your mouth falling open in a silent wail as you fell to the ground, your cold palms pressing into your face as you sobbed. The sound of patrons partying downstairs overtook the sound of your heart shattering.

Your exhausted body fell to the side, your eyes rolling back as the shock took over, knocking you out cold. Your head bounced off the wooden floor as you hit it, your form sprawled out almost carelessly.

It was four days before you woke up again.

Bright lights pierced through your eyelids to the point it pulled you from the darkness. You breathed out a low groan, a tired hand moving up to rub at your face as your eyes slowly blinked open. Your gaze met metal, then hospital equipment. It moved over the slate metal room with confusion, taking in the room slowly.

You slowly sat up with a grunt, wincing as you gently grasped the left side of your head with a slightly shaky hand. Your fingertips met soft bandages and you couldn't stop the confused “Huh?” that escaped your lips.

“I wouldn't move too much.”

You jumped at the low voice, turning your head too quickly and giving yourself whiplash. You groaned again and held your head in both hands, breathing through your nose softly to fight back the nausea that rose in the back of your throat.

“Tsk,”

Two soft but firm hands gripped your shoulders and gently began to push you back down into the bed. You pulled your hands away and your brows furrowed as your eyes met two bright amber eyes, soft, sun-kissed skin and a spotted hat.

“Are you deaf? I just said-”

“Who are you?”

The man paused at your question, taking your face in before resuming in moving you to lay back down. You allowed him to move you, your eyes still confused and wary even as he moved back a little.

“I'm … a doctor.”

When you rose a suspicious eyebrow, he stood a little straighter with a thin-lipped frown, almost glaring down at you as he continued,

“I saved your life. The least you could do is say ‘thank you’.”

You sighed through your nose and gave him a slight nod, barely getting out,

“Thank you.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, running a tattooed hand over his scruff before he asked,

“Are you a pirate? Your belongings tell me you belong to a crew, but I'd like to make sure.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you looked away, glaring up at the metal ceiling as you bit out,

“I thought I was, once.”

The tattooed man shifted on his feet, his gaze never leaving you as he questioned,

“What's that supposed to mean?”

You scoffed with a bitter laugh before you retorted with a snark,

“Let's just say Eustass Kid is a fucking twat.”

The man paused again before a wide grin cracked his face, the expression almost unfitting on his face as he suddenly began to laugh. You whipped your head to the side to stare at him, your teary eyes wide and confused as you barked out,

“What's so goddamn funny?!”

The man cackled to himself, a hand covering his face as he chuckled into his palm. It took a moment, but once he composed himself, he snarked back in a mocking tone,

“I could have told you that.”

You flinched at his words, blinking back angry tears as you glared back up at the ceiling. The man then sighed heavily, moving closer to the bed before leaning over you so you were face to face.

“Seems to me that I have a perfect way for you to repay your debt.”

An almost cocky, thrilled look washed over the man's face as he leaned back with a comment of,

“My name is Trafalgar Law, and you are on my ship.”

Your blood turned to ice.

You'd heard Eustass talk shit about this guy many times, how he was psycho and would rip up his opponents in a flash and without remorse.

The Surgeon of Death.

You steeled your expression and bit back in a returning mocking tone,

“I'm not scared of you, Captain.”

Law grinned devilishly down at you as he nearly purred out,

“Oh darling, you should be.”

“Are you sure-”

“Stop fucking asking me that goddamn question, Kil.”

Killer bristled at Kid's tone, glaring at his captain from behind his mask. Large arms crossed over an even larger chest, an air of worry and anger danced around the First Mate, unable to stop thinking about if you were safe or not.

“... She made her fucking choice.”

Killer frowned, sighing to himself as he shook his head slightly.

“I think you made it for her.”

The blonde man knew he hit a nerve when his best friend didn't respond. Killer turned his head to glance at Kid and he sighed again when the red head didn't move.

Eustass Kid simply glared forward, his gaze dark and heart heavy as he locked it back up, feeling like a goddamn fool for thinking you'd stick around. Kid knew he made some stupid mistakes but this one cost him dearly.

It was a long while before Eustass spoke again, the only words the man could mutter out fell on deaf ears on the silent and empty deck.

“... I think I fucked up, Y/N.”

Eustass leaned back in his chair with a deep-set frown, flesh and metal arm crossed over each other as he stared out at the glassy sea.

It was a few days before he spoke again, demanding everyone on board forget your name. Anything you left behind was thrown overboard, sinking to the bottom of the sea without a second thought.

After that, it was like you had never lived on the Victoria in the first place.

Though, some nights, if anyone crept into Kid's room quietly enough, they'd find him tossing and turning, one of your shirts tightly gripped in his large hand. It stopped smelling like you ages ago, but Kid couldn't find it in him to part with it.

There was more than one war going on within Eustass Kid's life, though this one, he'd have to fight on his own.

And everytime he woke up to an empty bed, he knew…

He had lost.

[lostmf]

[canisalbus]

What?? Why on Earth would they bloodlet Machete when he's already anemic?

Anemia wasn't discovered until 1852, so his physicians have no idea. He's just moody and achy and visibly unwell and bloodletting happens to be the cure-for-all fix at the time.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say it was one of the most used treatments in western medicine from ancient Greece to 19th century (and even earlier than that in Egypt, for example). There weren't many ailments that a little bit of breathing a vein wouldn't alleviate, supposedly. This whole concept is based on humoral theory which is a fascinating cornerstone of medical history and also completely unfounded nonsense, look it up if you haven't, it's interesting. People believed that blood didn't circulate through the body, it was created, used up and then the bad blood would stagnate in the extremities. Having too much blood would disturb your humoral balance and create illnesses so removing it was beneficial to your wellbeing. Even completely healthy people would sometimes go get themselves bled a bit just to be sure.

You kind of need blood for your body to function so this treatment was completely pointless at best and life threatening at worst. If you were sick to begin with it would only weaken you further (and expose you to potential infections, which in the absence of antibiotics, wasn't great). The only viable use for it would have to be rare blood disorders where your body produces too many red blood cells, like polycythemia vera, essentially the polar opposite of anemia.

[reksink]

Some Pebbles

[thoughtsthatstayedwithme]

I was 13, too immature, people said, to love. It was just the naivete of blossoming youth they said. Still, why?! Every single day at the mature age of 24, I still think of her every day? The only person I ever loved, doesn’t even know how true my love was. I still love her, she doesn’t even realize it. Oh what beautiful pain, loving someone and not being able to tell them.

- Ramblings of my mind

[meinspiegelich]

Was die Menschen nie verstehen werden ist, dass es bei Depressionen nicht um das Äußere geht, sondern um das Innere.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 - 𝔐𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔵

[trunklewunjle]

I did some twists and turns to the Dreamtale I included in the server me an my friends rp in, and I’ve been kinda hyper fixated so I did a little thing

I don’t like perspective but im going to have to eventually learn, soul shattering I will never be the same once i dominate it

Yea the fucking tree told him to shoot night because everyone is so mean to him so I just yknow she might as well also be mean to a fucking seven year old who knew no better 

Dreamtale (Dream and Nightmare) Belong to Jokublog

[flammenherzblog]

Ich kann nichts mehr sagen, weil nichts ansatzweise beschreiben könnte wie schlimm alles ist.