Yeah... I don't know about that...
Oh, hey, look... it's 8 PM on Friday night. Time for the weekly ripping out of my heart.
.
Is that a thing? Does it have a name? Emotional masochism I'd the best I can come up with.
Well don't we do that with every fandom? It wouldn't be anything new. Every time I watch a Sherlock episode I fine something a little "heart-rippy-outty". That's why I propose a series for the Heartsmith. But only the fantasy portion so they can have adventures within the place with the focus on hearts
Fair play... there are many who would enjoy it greatly I'm sure.
.
Not something I think I'd want to enter into voluntarily though... I have enough rippy-outty to deal with, both fictional and otherwise.
A young girl, sitting in her hospital bed, looks out of the window. Everyday, she sees people out on the streets, with cracked, smashed, and sometimes even no hearts. It makes her sad, but she knows of a man who can help them. And her mind takes her back.... back to the time when a heart could be repaired.
The Heartsmith.
It was a fantasy created by the little girl, the heartsmith represented all the heart donors in the world, helping those with bad hearts, and the when he decides to share his heart with the girl, it's a metaphor saying that she got the right donor and she's going to live.
Made a quick web search for images of him, didn't expect him to look like that, I imagined him with a more latino-like face, and yes, he looks like the heartsmith
Pardon me, who gave you permission to rip out my heart?
And I'm sorry to all of you for bumping this old post, but it is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, and I couldn't let it go unsaved. Please forgive me.
Down the darkened alley,
A quaint store sits shrouded in shadow,
The home of the heartsmith this store is,
Here he fixes your broken hearts,
Big or small this shape or that,
He fixes the hearts you break,
Or at least, he tries…
There are some, too broken to fix,
Too shattered to repair,
And every time he explains this,
He grows reserved,
Clutching his fist over his heart,
Knowing the only way left to fix the shattered heart.
He tells them to return the next day,
Saying the heart will be fixed,
Leaving them unaware of his sacrifice,
He tinkers away, pulling a single perfectly shaped chunk from his heart,
To fix what has been broken,
In order to right a wrong,
He fixes hearts,
By sacrificing some of his own,
This is the story of the heartsmith,
Who gave the remains of his heart,
To a girl less fortunate,
A girl, without a heart,
So she may live, although he will die
This is the story of the heartsmith,
To people who help, at cost to themselves
Oh, hey, look... it's 8 PM on Friday night. Time for the weekly ripping out of my heart.
.
Is that a thing? Does it have a name? Emotional masochism I'd the best I can come up with.
.
Not something I think I'd want to enter into voluntarily though... I have enough rippy-outty to deal with, both fictional and otherwise.
The Heartsmith.
http://miyuli.tumblr.com/post/77927805768/finally-i-can-present-you-my-little-comic-hearts
Here is a readable version on the artist's tumblr
And I'm sorry to all of you for bumping this old post, but it is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, and I couldn't let it go unsaved. Please forgive me.
/rant
A quaint store sits shrouded in shadow,
The home of the heartsmith this store is,
Here he fixes your broken hearts,
Big or small this shape or that,
He fixes the hearts you break,
Or at least, he tries…
There are some, too broken to fix,
Too shattered to repair,
And every time he explains this,
He grows reserved,
Clutching his fist over his heart,
Knowing the only way left to fix the shattered heart.
He tells them to return the next day,
Saying the heart will be fixed,
Leaving them unaware of his sacrifice,
He tinkers away, pulling a single perfectly shaped chunk from his heart,
To fix what has been broken,
In order to right a wrong,
He fixes hearts,
By sacrificing some of his own,
This is the story of the heartsmith,
Who gave the remains of his heart,
To a girl less fortunate,
A girl, without a heart,
So she may live, although he will die
This is the story of the heartsmith,
To people who help, at cost to themselves