#miss posts

[amatteroffaes]

Why

Miss flutters around the room, arranging, cleaning, and rearranging trinkets on a shelf. The light reflecting off her wings occasionally causing iridescent flickers of light as the sunlight from the window lands on them. The Doll watches it's miss. Feeling as if it wasn't worth such a creature.

Doll: Why does Miss keep this one?

The thought had been lingering for the doll more and more, ever since it first had a home with Miss. The doll didn't feel as capable as combat dolls, or as magnificently crafted as some of the magically enchanted dolls with their beautiful and intricate designs. Miss could have had her choice of any of the dolls.

Miss simply responds with a glance and a smile.

That did not answer the doll's question.

Doll: Awawawa….

Miss pauses, looking over to the doll.

Miss: That's really troubling you? Why wouldn't I keep you?

Doll: This one is not special… It isn't strong like combat dolls. It doesn't use magic like some dolls do. It is just a simple comfort doll.

Miss flutters over to the doll and waits, expectantly, for the doll to hold out it's hand for to land on. When it does she lands, kneeling in the doll's hand.

Miss: You are special. You are mine. You are exactly what I need.

Doll: Miss could have a stronger doll, one that could protect her more; or a Doll that would help in other ways.

Miss: I don't need either of those. I need you. You make the world quieter. You hold me when the static gets too loud. You ground me when I start to lose myself. I keep you because there is no other doll that could do that for me.

Doll blinks slowly, processing the words that Miss is saying.

Miss: I need you because of what you are. Not for what you can do.

Doll: This one is glad Miss thinks so.

Miss: I know so.

Miss's wings flutter as she takes flight and resumes her tasks. Leaving the doll to think. The doll begins to feel lighter, the question fading for now. It is enough knowing Miss choses it. Knowing it has a place. A home.

[sorrowful-prince-pelleas]

Medea by Euripides

I for one stan our local girlboss

[crimson-orange-sky]

Diving down, down, down~

[rainyday-dreamaway]

I absolutely love how Polnareff’s arc comes full circle in Vento Aureo, and how that just. Illuminates how Giorno isn’t just Dio’s son - he’s also Jonathan’s.

And if Jonathan had a noble heart, which his son inherited, then why wouldn’t a loyal Knight serve him?

[amatteroffaes]

Mine

I found you where others had left you. Discarded, forgotten, like you were trash. A thing they had no use for.

Your edges were worn, cracks along your skin, your hands still reaching, for someone who wasn’t coming back.

I came. When I looked at you, I didn’t see a broken thing, I saw something waiting, something that still had so much love left to give.

Maybe that’s why they left you because they didn’t understand that kind of love.

In the end, I don't care why. You’re not trash, you’re not forgotten. You belong to me now.

Those cracks don’t scare me. Those worn edges don’t make me turn away. You’ll never be discarded again. Not while I’m here. Not while you’re mine.

[amatteroffaes]

Miss stands over dollie, some arcane symbols etched into the ground surrounding the doll. Her eyes brimming with tears.

Miss: I had hoped never to need to do this.

Miss looks up, speaking to no one in particular.

Miss: Summon the council of witches. Time to mobilize the combat dolls.

Miss looks back down drawing a few more sigils onto the doll. They flare with an ominous glow and then she lowers herself down and lays against the doll sobbing.

[amatteroffaes]

Found

I drift sometimes, lost in the static of existence, when everything buzzes too loud, and I can’t tell where I begin or end. The noise fills my head, makes my chest heavy, and I forget how to breathe, how to find solid ground. You always find me there, in the middle of all that hum. You never get lost in the noise you just walk through it, like it’s nothing at all. You reach for me, and pull me back with your touch. No words, no rush, just your presence, cutting through the static until I can hear again. Until I can be found.