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livalinite · 3 months

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Temporary

One must remember Storms aren't forever The dark skies that flood With tears and unwashed blood Those are only temporary Bits of pain to carry For a soul must feel As that's what it means to be real

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amateurconfessions · 1 year

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march 15, 2023

This temporary pain is but a controlled burn

To remove the brush that will only destroy you

Fertilizer for the new life soon to push through the soil

This is not the end

#controlled burn #nature #photography #nature photography #poetry #poem #march 15 #woods #florida wilderness #florida #temporary pain #growth #inner healing #personal growth

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thedisablednaturalist · 8 months

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Kinda sucks that a lot of people are treating people with long covid as an entirely separate community from the chronic illness community at large. I've also seen people with long covid separate themselves from us as well. They are acting like they're the first ones who've been denied care or ignored, and refuse to accept that they are now "like us". So many people who were perfectly abled are suddenly becoming disabled, and it's only now society is freaking out and pushing for treatments for this chronic illness (on the bright side its sort of causing interest in POTS, fibromyalgia, CFS, etc). Where was all this research when people were coming down with other chronic illnesses? (I'm not saying it isn't good that there's research happening, and it's obviously not enough, especially because long covid primarily happens to women. It's just a lot more mainstream to talk about long covid vs other illnesses)

I want to accept people with long covid with open arms, give them advice and comfort. But I've found many don't want it from me. There's a big community of us that are here for you, cast aside your internalized ableism and join us in the fight for a more accessible world.

#long covid #chronic disability #chronic pain #chronic illness #is it because a lot of cases of long covid are temporary so people dont think of themselves as chronically ill?#idk if this makes sense #its all leaving a bad taste in my mouth

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stil-lindigo · 3 months

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rare non-palestine post real quick because my finger joints have been hurting really bad for the past three days and drawing is my life so i'd really appreciate any pointers to make them stop hurting

#my fingers arent swollen or inflamed #anti inflammation gel does nothing #a heatpack is soothing but only goes so far #ive held ice cubes for a while and it numbs the pain mostly but thats also a temporary measure #pls help #ill delete this later

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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 3 months

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*randomly spawned a sassy cat in their castle.*

Cross's shirt: bone hurting juice (image depicting text)

Cross: i can make it to the kitchen i can make it to the kitchen i can make it to the kitchen i can make it to the kitchen i can-

sassy cat: (poof)

Cross: .

Cross: pspspspspspsps

#cross sans #sassy cat #disabled character #injury #wound #bandages #cat #Cross saw the cat and fr went 'pain is temporary cats are forever'#Cross's ribs hurt in case anyone's wondering why he's clutching at his shirt in the first image #also i can't draw cats oh my fucking jod help #queue

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dokupine · 3 months

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I hope I didn’t bother u going thru and reblogging a bunch of your stuff 😅 💖

I wanted to say I absolutely LOVE your speculative biology mario work and all the effort you put into it!! I haven’t seen anything about Luigi from you yet, how’s he doing in this world?

he’s doing great!

#YOURE NOT BOTHERING ME BY REBLOGGING I APPRECIATE IT A LOT #I don’t know if I explained it well in the goomba post #but goomba eyebrows are dense patches of stingers #I like taking some details in smb literally: like how you die instantly if you run into things #speculative goomba stingers cant kill you but they are very painful #and being stung enough causes temporary paralysis #luigi will be fine though #asks #smb luigi #super speculative bros #speculative biology #kips art #art #smb goomba #goomba #aliens

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adrift-in-thyme · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 6: "I Love You" (Time/Malon)

Ao3

This takes place pre-lu

CW for blood and injury, multiple threats of death, and temporary character death

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The worst dreams are always the ones where she can do nothing but watch. The ones where her body is paralyzed, the ground as uncooperative as quicksand. The ones where something terrible occurs. Something so horribly, vibrantly, gory that the only escape she has is to awaken from it, choking on hot, wet tears.

Never before had she realized how lucky she was to have that escape. To be able to curl into her husband’s waiting arms and let the images drift away, carried on the tide of his steadily beating heart.

Malon wishes she could do the same now.

This, however, is anything but a dream. The blood splotched across the ground, the sword lying useless amongst the green grass, the limp form crumpled beside it – it is all too real. As is the tall, lizard-like figure who stalks forward Link’s fallen body.

The Shadow grins and it sends shivers down her spine.

She thrashes again, straining helplessly against her bonds. Coarse ropes dig into her wrists, a tightly tied rag bites her cheeks until they ache. Somewhere behind her, a monster looms, claws slicing into her shoulder. Shards of pain travel down her arms, following the thin trails of blood.

But she has to get away, she has to. Link is right there, only a few feet away, broken and bleeding and helpless. She must reach him.

The Shadow extends talon-tipped fingers and drags Link up by his hair. He slumps in the monster’s grip, eye half-lidded and dazed. Blood dribbles from his mouth and nose and mars his clothing. He coughs and more splatters onto the lawn.

“So, this is the famed Hero of Time.” The Shadow shifts and his very being seems immaterial. Malon can see now how he got his name. “I’ll admit I’m disappointed. You went down so quickly.”

Blood-red eyes flick to Malon. A forked tongue zips out of scaly lips, quick as lightning.

“Love has made you soft.”

His grip tightens and Link lets out a sharp hiss.

“Let her go,” he croaks, “l-let her go or I’ll make you wish you were n-never born.”

The Shadow’s laughter rings out across the lawn, making the horses rear and dart further into the paddock. All except for Epona, who bucks and whinnies, trying desperately to reach her master. But the chain the Shadow had conjured around her ankle remains unmoving as ever.

“Make me wish that I was never born?” He jeers, tightening his grip on his captive. Link falls backward, bumping against his side. “Oh, my dear, dear hero! Are you unaware of your current situation? I recall you being smarter when we last met. Perhaps, you hit your head a tad too hard. That was quite the noise your skull made against my sword.”

The air flickers and suddenly, his ebony sword is back in his hand as though it had never disappeared. He fits it snuggly against Link’s neck, right over his jugular. Malon’s breath hitches.

“No!” She screams, kicking out, blindly. A clawed hand slaps her smartly across the cheek and her head snaps back. Before she can even recover, cool metal nips at her throat. She swallows, tasting icy fear.

“Malon!”

Link jerks in his captor’s hold, terror and fury battling in his gaze. The Shadow yanks him back, tilting his head in calm contemplation.

“Now, let me see. Which one of you should I kill first? I came here to slay the Hero of Time, but to find him with a wife…well, that was a pleasant surprise.” He pauses, that cursed gaze fixing itself firmly onto Malon. “Yes, I believe that is the answer. The wife goes first.”

“No!” The scream tears itself from Link, hoarse and desperate and agonizing, even as the words wash over Malon like spring rain, slowly seeping into her thoughts. With them comes a distant sort of terror, so close it turns her palms clammy, yet so far she hardly knows it is there.

Another monster grabs a hold of Link, claws digging into the wounds already marring his body. And the Shadow stalks towards her.

“Hello, dear,” he croons.

With a taloned finger, he removes the gag, allowing it to flop limply into the dirt. Malon fixes him with a glare.

“What makes you think killing us will help with anything?” She spits, straining to keep the fear from her voice.

He chuckles as he straightens, looking over her like an obsidian statue.

“Your husband is a hero, a blessed one of the gods. And as such, he has only furthered the relentless cycle that grips Hyrule. Without his demise, it will continue, unceasingly.

“As for your death, well — ” He shrugs — “that is merely for my own enjoyment. I wish to see your precious Link’s anguish before I slit his throat.”

“No!” Link screams again, fighting desperately against the monster who holds him fast. Chains have appeared around his wrists now, though Malon cannot remember seeing them before. They sing with every panicked movement.

“Don’t you dare touch her! It’s me you want, not her!”

A tear skitters down his cheek, glittering in the noonday sun. The sight of it breaks Malon’s heart.

Oh, fairy boy.

“I’m the hero,” he chokes, quieter now, defeated before his fate has even been set in stone. He raises his eye to the Shadow, a plea behind the fury in his gaze. “I’m the one who killed Ganondorf. Your vendetta is against me and me only. So, let her go…please, just let…let her go.”

The Shadow grins, all sharp teeth and shifting shapes.

“The Hero of Time groveling. It does me good to see a sight like that. I doubt anyone has seen it before, now, have they? Such a display of weakness is not to be taken lightly.” He gestures to the monster who holds the sword over her neck. “She is every bit as important to him as I hoped. So, go on. Do the deed.”

Something leaden and sickening and absurdly calm settles in Malon’s chest.

This is the end, her mind mourns. This is the end and there is nothing to be done now. Nothing to be done but to accept it.

“Link,” she calls and there is something hopeless in the way she does it. He looks at her, blood draining down his face, chest heaving with every panicked breath, pain and fear bright in his eye. But for a moment, she can see him as he was only this morning, gazing at her as though she is the most precious thing in the world, calloused hands cupping her face as he whispers that he loves her.

She smiles through her tears. His expression shatters.

“I love you.”

The Shadow grins, the monster begins to move its sword…

And the world comes to a screeching halt.

Malon remains still for a beat, waiting for the pain of metal slicing skin, waiting for the sensation of choking on her own blood. It doesn’t come.

The claws holding her are motionless. The weapon held against her neck doesn’t budge. The Shadow stays where he had come to stand, lips parted, fangs glinting, hand outstretched towards her. Off to the side, Epona remains reared up, hooves kicking at the sky, mane flying out in frozen strands of silken white.

The only person that moves in this strange place of living statues is Link.

He stumbles towards her, half-dragging his left leg. Chains still encircle his wrists, but now he holds his gilded sword in one hand. Behind him, a monster stands, a spurt of blood frozen in the space between his neck and chest.

“Link…what?”

She gazes around again, mind stuttering as it tries to catch up. She is no stranger to the oddities of her husband’s powers and adventures but this…this is something she has never seen before, nor heard of. As far as she knows, he has no power over time except by his ocarina. And that currently lies in a locked bedroom drawer.

He looks over her, fast and calculating and bitter. Then, with one swift movement, he drives his sword into the monster behind her. Malon cringes, awaiting a stream of gore that never comes. In fact, the monster doesn’t even budge. Like its companion, it merely remains where it is, gripped by the fate that does not yet have full reign.

Link kneels before her, now, knocking away the weapon that threatens her life, slicing at the ropes that bind her. He pulls and they fall away.

She raises her hands, rubbing dazedly at her aching wrists.

“What is this, fairy boy?” She murmurs, awed and terrified all at once.

“I’ll explain later,” he replies, quickly, shaking his head. And she knows that he will. “But we have time. Only…only a little, but we do.”

He reaches out, knuckles ghosting her cheek. She leans into his touch and draws a shaky breath. To feel him here warm and real is more than she could have hoped for after today’s events. In that terrible moment, she had believed that their only reunion would be in the icy embrace of death.

“They hurt you…again.” His voice cracks, shattering like a piece of pottery. “Malon, I’m…I’m so, so sorry.”

Lifting a hand, Malon rests it over Link’s, fingers intertwining with his.

“Oh, fairy boy, it’s not your fault.”

He gazes at her, broken and vulnerable. Then, slowly, he pulls away and gets to his feet. Holding out a hand, he helps her rise.

“I’ll fix this,” he says, voice growing tight and determined. “I promise you.”

And she has the strangest feeling that she has heard it before, that they have done this before.

What had he said earlier? That they had hurt her again?

“Link.” She steps after him, worry taking hold of her heart once more. Something is strange here. Something is wrong. “You’re keeping something from me. What’s going on? What’re you gonna do?”

He looks back at her, danger and grief in his eye.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and time jolts back into normality.

No sooner has it done so, than the Shadow rushes forward and slits his neck.

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uncanny-tranny · 8 months

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The frustrating thing about having good days with pain or bodily irritation or mobility or whatever else isn't that it's a "good day." It's the feeling that you are either greatly exaggerating your suffering or worse, that you're secretly wanting attention/admiration for your suffering. I think people sometimes are confused as to why good days in terms of disability can be distressing to some, but it is precisely that you almost... overthink the Implications of good days.

It isn't that you want to be suffering, it is that you are taught you will only be "worthy" of help if you are suffering in the Right way (and having any good days are often seen as a sign that you aren't "truly worthy").

#disability #internalized ableism #internalized ableism tw #ableism #ableism tw #it's also for me like... 'are my aids helping me because i am disabled or am i just an Attention Seeker'#i just don't want people to get the wrong idea of people who aren't... happy about having 'good days'#because sometimes you are almost expected to be Grateful to Not Be Disabled Today when you have a good day #but it's like... you're still disabled but your body (for whatever reason) isn't suffering as much as it might other days #i was really weirded out these past couple days because my back pain is almost nonexistent...#...and it makes me worry because: 1. this is temporary 2. is it because my aids are helping to prevent pain or is it something else?#3. again it's temporary and i am really really scared that these non-pain days are going to fucking bite me in the ass #you tend to get caught in this cycle where good things make you scared because it feels temporary and reversible at any second

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donut-entendre · 1 year

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I say a lot that Wash isn't empathetic when talking about people giving him Carolina's personality, but I don't think that really explains my thinking. Empathy is too vague of a concept in discussion of character.

Wash cares a lot about people. Wash cares so much it hurts. He trains the Chorusans without being asked, on his own initiative. He doesn't leave the reds and blues at the first sign of trouble. He's traumatized by violence by his own hand that he still agrees with the logic of, he remembers what he's done to people and while he doesn't regret it, it still haunts him. He doesn't want to care so bad but he does, he cares so much that violence against relative strangers hurts. Even if it was his best choice. Even if it was his only choice.

Carolina doesn't want people to know violence like she does. Carolina wants to tackle the whole world to keep it away from the ones she loves. Carolina wants to be the one to handle everything, to keep war off the doorstep.

Washington knows violence, and well. He thinks it is something that sometimes is the best option. He knows how to make the people he loves capable of protecting themselves. So he does.

Carolina is someone who wants to protect. Washington is someone who wants to teach people to protect themselves. Carolina wants to be the one to offer shelter in the rain. Washington wants to burn the fire so hot and so bright the rain evaporates before it can ever touch them, so hot it never even comes down, so bright no one could ever get lost. And he wants to teach everyone he cares for just how to do it, too.

Just in case it ever rains.

#it may seem like i went off topic immediately. but trust me. it's a hard concept to communicate.#logical 'empathy' where you care but you don't understand. you don't share it. it's hard to articulate.#it feels stupid. why do people care so much about this temporary problem? it's so obvious to you how trivial it is.#but they still care. even if you can't understand. and you care about them. so you show them how to approach it.#maybe your answer is callous. maybe it doesn't quite grasp the complexity of the situation #but it's what you know. it's what you can offer. maybe it's just inevitable that you will cause pain no matter what you do.#very autistic of him!#rvb #rvb washington #rvb carolina #nonsense thoughts

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lousydrawingsforgoodpeople · 1 year

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