“My mom doesn’t believe in love. I think she stopped after my dad painted her soft skin with the harsh colors of blue and purple one too many times. Or maybe it was after the nights he came home smelling of cheap perfume she’d never wear. Or no, I bet she stopped when he picked their son as the canvas for his unwarranted anger. Growing up, she’d tell me that she’d pray God would make her heart like stone, like the rocks that the sea beats against over and over; she craved their inability to feel. She claims her prayers were answered, but sometimes, when she sees old couples walking hand in hand still very much in love, she turns to me with a sad smile and reveals that she always thought that’d be her and him and I have to look away. That smile, it’s her achilles heel; it tells of her shattered dreams and whispers softly of her broken heart.
My mom doesn’t believe in love. As soon as I could understand the concept she drilled it into my head that there was no such thing. She thought it was a waste of time, sneered at those who tried to say it was one of the things worth living for. Unnecessary, dangerous was how she described it. She said she’d be damned if I fell into its trap and ruined my life for a boy that would leave me broken.
Now I don’t know how to tell her that I feel the things she warned against. I dont know how to tell her that my heart jumps when I look into his eyes or press my lips to his. I don’t know how to tell her that I fell for a boy with plain brown eyes and a smile that reminds me of the sun. I don’t know how to tell her that I gave him my heart and now he has the power to ruin me.
This was supposed to be a cute Sokai comic where Sora gets jealous when Seifer was talking to Kairi
And it was inspired by this comic.
But it became a Post-Norted Sora and Kairi comic and a dash of angst.
When the Mistress
made me she was full of angry things, that’s why so am I.
red threads over skin too tight and she couldn’t turn me, so all the ugliness I
was supposed to hide was out for all to see. Like little crisscrossing scars.
But that’s alright.
up my head a little bit, stitch, stitch stitching. She fixed it as much as she
could, and in the process she found pause.
at me, me, for the first time. And
her eyes and let go of me almost completely, and I thought she would forget
more gentle things in me this time. Not for the sake of the enemies of our Kingdom,
but for mine. So I wouldn’t feel so alone.
Instead of nails
she gave me a hawthorn berry for a heart, and soft, soft cotton.
she brushed her thumb across my cheek and clothed me.
feels no cold.”
she gave me a sword, the only sword,
and I felt special.
send a soldier to war unarmed.”
her lips against my forehead and her warm air filled my head.
“A witch’s kiss
is a blessed thing,” they said.
on the seams of my pepper filled legs and the rosemary in my chest swelled.
Maybe the mint in my cheeks blushed, but just a little bit.
She gave me
hematite so my will would be strong and shiny, and then she whispered it was my
duty to look after the Junglegreen.
all, my brave little soldier.” And before she left she turned and over her
shoulder blew me a final kiss.
This is my
no other soldiers. I’m the one and only. I protect the Junglegreen and the Mistress
day and night. I march between the Pottedplants and am a diplomat with the Faepeople,
I see who can visit the kingdom or not, depending if they’re good at heart.
When the Mistress
made me she didn’t have to love me, but she did.