defect eye

anonymous asked:

gemlands fusions please please please

Jathena: Athena+Janey 
Pretty much Garnet, she have two more eyes under the band on her forehead

The Con Artist: Fiona+Sasha
in this AU the sisters are actually one gem who during their formation got split in half, making them defective at the eyes of HW, their fusion will make them what they should have look like but even if they like it being a fusion is very tiresome, they enjoy living their own life and experince with the company of each other but separate.

Show Man: Jack+Rhys
one room can’t contain both this giant dude and his huge ego.

[coming up next: Jathena+Con/Rhys, Rhys+Con, Jathena+Con+Rhys]

My Dearest,

Tell me it’s okay to kill something that wants to die and I’ll teach you the art of trepanning, pry my skull open to reveal the disease, spot the defect, watch with weary eyes the red roses that hop out, how they’re growing tiny fins &
roiling away, like blood in the air, like the moon stains across your cheeks. now tell me what the after-life looks like. is it all dreamy satyrs & angels with sad faces fiddling with harps?
or is it an apocalyptic wasteland where
every person we’ve ever kissed returns to
haunt us? tell me, why do you always
have your breath held & your legs so neatly
folded? paper swan, shy animal, what are you hiding in between there?
do you fancy flaunting the color blue?
is there a name for this late-summer withering?
do we dare repeat it? do the letters all blur together & turn to
mush against the wisdom teeth you should’ve had removed by now?
i want candied apples and ballroom dancing
under stars shaped like our ancestors, i want
to be your exception, your calamity, the april
we made honeyed mildew of our bodies, the
wildfire in your bones.
someday saying these things out loud will get easier or we will get older and more bored
and the secrets will splash out like gin and
get us drunk on wet-hearted regrets, black sludge fountains, our own bad habits, lighting
cigarettes beneath burnt bridges, biting our fingers to remains mangled raw, chasing
streetlight shadows into the sordid realms of the nobodies, turning the sun against the sky,
watching it mingle hideously with the
bent, grotesque spines of lightning strikes,
rain peppering our rose-tinted visions,
leaving us cold prunes,
leaving us unfixable.

Some Kind of Green

Title: Some Kind of Green

Word Count: 1205

A/N: In celebration of 100 followers I wrote a thing about Hansung:) 

“Wake up!” Light painfully shot through my closed lids, jarring me awake. “It’s morning, you need to clean.”

The head housemaid at Hwarang house, Soojung pulled me roughly out of bed by the arm, not stopping to see if I was in any pain.
“Sunbaenim, you’re hurting me,” I complained, wrapping my fingers around the mark she left on my wrist. “I will be ready in a few moments.” The older woman huffed angrily and stomped out of my tiny quarters. I’d been living in Hwarang House since it first opened. As an orphan with no connection to the True Bones, I had no choice but to get some menial work, and as a woman there were not many other options besides cleaning. Women were not often allowed in Hwarang House but since the Hwarangs were apparently quite rowdy and tended to break/dirty much more than anticipated, Soojung, myself and a few other girls were called in.

My friend Jangmi, from the village told me how jealous she was when I got in, but it’s not as exciting as it may seem. I’ve yet to see even one of the Hwarangs, just their didiculously big messes.

Sighing, I changed into my simple robes and clipped my long dark hair back. I took a quick look in the mirror before averting my eyes. I hated seeing my reflection- it was yet another reminder of what a freak I was. In Silla, everyone had dark hair and dark eyes. We all looked relatively similar in our colouring- but when I was born there was some genetic defect thay gave me eyes the color of fresh moss.  Light, slightly glowing and greener than green. It was strange, and people often commented on it, calling them the Devil’s eyes, cursed eyes, because they were so different. Many people doubted my mother’s fidelity as well, claiming she must have had an affair with a travelling foreigner. Regardless, I hated them. There were nothing good about these eyes.

I started my day like normal, greeting my fellow servants and washing the railings in the outdoor courtyard, when suddenly I heard very loud drums. I waited patiently, allowing myself a quick rest for the drums to stop, but they just went ko continuously. I asked one of the Gardners if the Hwarangs were having some sort of festival.

“It’s some famous musician who came to teach those spoiled Hwarangs how to roll over for the queen, ” the Gardner snapped, glaring at me as he left. Alrighty then.

I left my cleaning bucket and rags next to the rail and walked carefully over to noisy room. Peering through a little hole in the patterned parchment stretched over the sliding door, I could see two men, dressed in their crisp Hwarang robes. The drumming seemed to increase in tempo and the handsome soldiers started to dance, their companions clapping in excitement.

The dance seemed silly but both of the men were more graceful than any other guys I’d ever encountered. The one on the left was breathtaking, his hair so straight and dark it looked like flowing water. His skin was pale and glowed slightly like the moon. I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach at the sight of such a gorgeous boy.

“Hansunggie ahh so cute!” one of the Hwarangs watching shouted at the other dancing knight. I pulled my attention away from the mesmerizing male and focused on the shorter. This boy (and I mean boy since he could be no more than a year older than myself); was not nearly as lovely as the former. He was dancing with a bit of smirk, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. His movements were much less calculated bit so much more amusing to watch. I felt my mouth pulling into a wide grin, a quiet giggle escaping. Hansung, the Hwarang had called him.

Hansung spun with flair, shooting a happy look at the rapt audience. The longer the two danced, the larger Hansung smile seemed to get, before he finally abandoned the controlled smirk and openly smiled, his mouth almost rectangular in shape. What a beautiful dance, the pair were well suited. Hansung glowed like the sun, warm and bright while the other man was so like the moon, a quiet beauty. I sat silently, engrossed in Hansung’s every expression, my heart thumping audibly.

Suddenly the music stopped. I let out a sigh, before covering my mouth quickly, alarmed at how loud I had been. Not quick enough, unfortunately as I watched Hansung’s head whip around in my direction, his dark eyes wide. He opened his mouth to indicate to me, but I ran. 

Sweat coursed down my back as I scooped up my cleaning supplies and hustled to the storeroom. Shutting the door behind me I collapsed on the ground in a heap, trying to catch my breath.

He saw me! Aish, I could get in so much trouble for watching the Hwarangs in their class. It was meant to be secret! Ahh I was such a fool, I’d only intended to look for a moment or so, just to see the drumming. But watching Hansung was fascinating. He seemed to radiate joy, so unlike any man I’ve ever known. I felt myself smiling again. Even if I did get punished, knowing someone like Hansung existed made it all worth it.

Hansung (a few days later)

“Ya hyung I’ll meet you at the Hwarang House in an hour!” I shouted to Yeol Wool, skipping away before he had a chance to argue. Yeol Wool was probably my best friend in Hwarang but he could be very serious sometimes and I just wanted to play for a while. It was my break after all. With all the dance training for the festival coming up, I was sleepy all the time. I wanted to see the town again, maybe find a present for my mom.

I strolled happily, smiling at people that passed me by. I remembered again, the weird incident that happened a few days earlier, when I saw a girl with the strangest eyes watching us practice our dance. I’d been shocked to see her there since no one was meant to watch and had just been about to call out to her to leave when I noticed her eyes.  They were so different, green but not like the trees. Green that glowed. Aish, I smacked my forehead in frustration. I’d been thinking of her eyes non-stop since I saw them, trying to clearly remember their shape and hue. I passed by one of my favourite stalls, filled with strange artifacts brought over from the west, my eyes were drawn to the decorative piece I’d looked at months ago. It was a flat, gold disc with transparent green glass in the centre.

“Ya!” I shouted, running over to the table. I lifted the object carefully, and faced it to the sun as I had before. Looking through the glass I could see the sun shine. A green film filtered the light, making a colour I’d only seen once before…the color of her eyes.


I smiled. I would definitely need to find that girl again. 

-Admin Hana:)

30K Celebration: Cat Reveal!

Anon wanted to see my cats, so here they are. Sorry for not doing anything bigger today; was so stressed out I caught a cold and don’t feel very well :/

This is Marty! He basically acts like a dog: he’s super friendly, begs for food during EVERY (and I really mean every) meal, and loves attention. He also has a small eye (birth defect), but he can still see fine.

This is Alex! He’s as pretty as he is skittish. He’s my buddy, and we’re practically inseparable. He’s very soft, loves to cuddle and comes running to my room every time he sees me get home. He also can’t meow properly, so he squeaks instead.   

This is Bailey! He’s an older cat and very mellow, but he makes up for it in all the love he gives. He never gives us trouble unlike the ginger demons I mentioned up there. He’s also a polydactyle, which means he has big paws with extra toes. 

Imagine K-2SO Acting Like Your Nagging Parent

Originally posted by blackcarany

“Because she’s a soldier, too, Kaytoo,” Cassian reminded the droid. “I am not sending her undercover unarmed.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted.

“Did you check the blaster? Is it functioning?”

“Kaytoo, Cassian isn’t going to give me a defective blaster,” your eyes rolled backwards into your head. That blasted droid was always like this.

“Well, most of the Rebellion weapons are rather rudimentary. There’s a 68.4% chance it’s been used before. You need to check it.”

“It’s fine.”

“You would know for sure if you checked it.”

“I am not checking the blaster!”

“Cassian would check the blaster.”


“That’s enough, you two,” the captain gently reprimanded. “The blaster is fine, Kaytoo. Y/N is more than protected.”

“You don’t get to say I told you so,” the droid interjected. You had to take a deep breath to keep yourself from throwing a can at his head. If only Cassian had listened to you and recycled the snarky hunk of junk for scrap metal.

(For Anon)


She wakes up. One minute before the alarm alert. As designed. As desired. She stands erect, stretches, and begins the movements of the Bharatanatyam. Starting slowly and precisely, her hands arc in graceful, meaningful motions. Her legs bend deep while her spine never falters a curve. Gaining in speed and difficulty, there starts a glow about her. She’s sweating, which bothers her, but not enough to slow. The beads of sweat on her face begin to coalesce and slip down her form. Catching the glow and fracturing beams of light into the room. Her face, poised with concentration never letting a single emotion show, begins to loosen, even to smile. Light. Solid in form. As she moves her hands in one last motion the structure falls to the floor. Here is perfection, she thinks to herself, with a nod of approval. Grabbing a cloth off the wash basin and letting it slide into the pool of cool water, now glistening with a hint of the earie blue light that fills the room.  Cleansing the sweat off her body, she begins to inspect her creation. Are the angles correct? The sizing, the shape? Everything seems in place, yet there is still something missing. She circles the piece straining her eyes to defect the fault. Her skin begins to itch in the way it does when there is an error. She cannot find it yet it gnaws at her being. Her temperature is rising and she can feel reality’s grip letting go of her. Where did I falter? What have I not done!? Grabbing her PhotonBeam- aiming to destroy the fruit of her mastery. She looks one last longing glance at its beauty, but it’s wrong. Closing her eyes with her finger on the trigger she hears an electronic click, followed by a gentle whirring.

Her eyes flash open. Her ears poised like an animal. “What…. Where?”, she voices aloud.




Her hair whips as she dashes towards the noise. Legs thrown out in the most poetic of advances. I know that sound like I know my own heartbeat! How can this be?! Running through the arches of her beautiful dwelling, searching. Tearing through room after room, not finding the source of that sound. Oh the Sound! Her heart is beating much faster than before. Her eyes are fervidly searching each room and doorway. But she finds nothing. She hears… nothing. The sweet song that played so quietly in her skull has retreated to the depths of that door she keeps closed in her mind. I am foolish. Disgraceful to be flitting about in search of a ghost! She mutters to herself in disgust. She retreats towards the security of her room, unaware of the glow emanating from the cracks in the door. As she reaches to grab the handle the change in hue is abruptly noticeable to her senses. What is this? She thinks to herself. The light once again lighting afire inside her. Taking a breath, not wanting to hope, she opens the door.

A flood of fuchsia light bathes her bare body, dancing off the sweat as moonbeams on the snow. Her creation has altered. It is perfection. She steps into the room, arms outreached towards the piece. Wanting to touch it, but afraid, she hears a voice behind her, “Miss me?”

She whirls around in haste. Terrified beyond comprehension. Words do not escape, but a small gasp manages to float through the air.

“Don’t answer, I can see that you did. This is nice.” Electric pink nails point to the now purplish-pink lit structure in the middle of the room.

Finding her courage, she whispers, “Where have you been?” She needs to find composure. She needs to stand tall, stand firm, but she cannot will the waiver from her voice nor the shine from her eyes. Her hands are shaking and her breath is stuttering. She always leaves me, why should now be different? When she is away the world crumbles and with every step she moves closer the world is crumbling still. Standing on a precipice of a canyon I cannot be saved. She is my savior and she keeps running away.

Feet shuffle awkwardly. “I had to do, something… look it’s not a big deal. I’m back, ok?” They say defensively. Hackles are raised and voices are deep in an attempt to appear without attachment. But the veil is thin. The façade weak. The crack in octaves a bit too noticeable for one such as she. She raises her eyebrows an immeasurably small distance.

“I’m sorry.”, they say sincerely, voice welling with unspent emotion. “You have no idea what I have been through! What I must do to make everything right! You don’t know, how hard it is…. to…to…” The voice breaks into sobs. They crash to the floor like a crystal chandelier dropped from grace. Shattering on the carpet, pieces spiraling out of control. Gasping for air they manage to breathe the words: “Satya… I can’t do this without you.”  

Satya, looking at the shards on the floor in horror, reaches down instinctively to fix the chaos. “My dear, please. Let me hold you.” She asks. Masking her confusion as to tearful display they had just shown. Emotions are hard to understand sometimes. And she had already felt too many this day. Gently, and timidly, she bent down and met the lips reaching out for hers.

Satya held them. No words were spoken for what seemed like hours. Satya gently stroking their hair. Relishing the moment before they left again. Which she knew would be all too soon. They fell asleep in each other’s arms. Clothed in moonlight and comfort.

In the morning, Satya wakes up. One minute before the alarm alert. As designed. As desired. She stands erect, stretches, and looks around. The room is empty save for her. She feels the anguish of loss, but she had known this was coming. She was well versed in keeping composure now. Beginning her morning the same as every morning, she walks to the wash basin. There, nestled on top, was a curious device not many knew of; a Translocator, with a note underneath.

               My dearest Satya,

I will ALWAYS return to you.

               Te amo mi amor.


Smiling, Satya put the translocator on the bed and turned to stare at her creation. The very likeness of the one known as Sombra, recreated in light. As only Satya saw her.


I really don’t get why brown-eyed people hate their eyes

They tend to be able to see better, the eyes themselves tend to be quite lovely- reflecting to look like fire in the light, and even in the dark, they still look cute and mature- both, somehow. 

Also, even if that weren’t the case, at least it’s a single consistent color. Brown-eyed people, your eyes look like eyes, beautiful, lovely eyes, a miracle of nature through dumb luck and then good survival rates, and then nature taking its course. 

I have fucking mandalas of vomit that alternate between green, blue, grey, and yellow, like a poorly thought-out Mary Sue. These eyes are not beautiful- they do not even look like eyes ought to. Those with beautiful oxe-like eyes of Hera, your eyes are lovely and deep. If the eyes are a window into the soul, then you are clearly great and important people. If such an odd belief that seems to be taken from some odd old religious thing, either abrahamic or european, then I am a changeling, fae, or demon. 

There is a reason brown eyes are the most common. They are the best. There is also a reason eyes like mine are listed as a sign of Mary-Sue-hood; they are horrid and defying of description. They cannot be positively described.

ok but what if the reason Mat doesnt need glasses is because the Druids replaced his eyes with Galra tech, and now everything he sees is tinged with purple…

the first time Matt Holt could see clearly, the world was a wash of angry purple.

The Pilot (a wholock meta)

[I wrote these thoughts after watching Doctor Who ‘The Pilot’ last week and meant to post this. This is really just for myself so sorry in advance if I don’t make tons of sense here. I would say I’’m gonna write something about each ep but I usually don’t stick to what I say I’m gonna do haha so anything could happen]

Oh jeez where do even I start? The Pilot (!). Called as much supposedly because this DW episode can be watched by people new to the show. But me thinks that’s not all there is to it. There’s the flight of the dead and Girl on the Plane from TFP, the “Landing” as johnlock going canon …and there’s also a Sherlock Pilot. Planes are ships. Pilots are the ones in control of that ship. It crashes, or it lands safely. There’s no planes in this DW episode (there are spaceships tho). But there’s a ‘ship’.

So Bill and Heather are John and Sherlock, obviously yes? But the mirroring works so both Bill and Heather are constantly both John and Sherlock for different sort of threads of the subtext. Heather even has a black coat and scarf in the pic above but then shortish blond hair like John. 

Like @jenna221b said the “defect” in the eye that Heather wants to “fix” is sentiment (nice one), while Bill thinks it’s beautiful (“it looks like a star”). Sherlock thinks this is his weakness that needs to be fixed. But John sees that in him and loves him for it. 

But were you not also reminded of Ben C’s eyes and his heterochromia?? I was. Her eyes were blue and green and gold. It would reinforce the Sherlock mirror. I wouldn’t put it past them because I’ve seen other character mirrors in other DW episodes given the names and traits of ben, martin and amanda because Moffat uses johnlock mirrors in SO many episodes that he must run out of ways to code them.

Heather was coded as suicidal - she in fact DID take her own life. I didn’t see this the first time. DUH! “Everywhere I go I just want to leave”. Then the puddle gets her and she does “leave”, because the puddle gives you what you want. 

I have a feeling that the episode name is a sherlock clue on an extra level. What if it’s also about the Gay Pilot?? I think we’re seeing John and Sherlock where they were at the beginning of their journeys 

(what if this doctor who season somehow takes us through a johnlock romance arc somehow with different mirrors every time?? Might not happen but would be neat. Bonus for any clues about what the heck sherlock s4 was). 

Sherlock in ASiP wants to “leave” like Heather does in this “Pilot”, taking the cabbie’s pill gambling his life on a 50/50 chance. And John with his gun in his drawer, contemplating it for a moment at the beginning of ASiP. By TLD Sherlock’s gotten to the point where he realises, possibly even surprising himself, that he doesn’t want to die. That’s the end of his character arc though. But here we see Heather willingly let the puddle invite her in, just as Sherlock brings the pill up to his mouth in ASiP.

Maybe this is the significance of the chips. In TLD Sherlock gets chips for Faith because she’s suicidal, and Bill “Serves chips”. She keeps people from taking their lives. Sort of foreshadowing John’s arc, and how John saves Sherlock from that by giving him a reason to live (thats what boyfriends do, they feed you up).

We also have the “can I show you something?” “God, yes!” between Heather and Bill. Another pilot reference.

Heather’s last thought was of Bill, so once this evil alien puddle thingy had taken her, she pursued Bill to the farthest reaches of the universe (please stop me thinking of that johnlock fanvid and the song lyric “anywhere I would have followed you”).

And what the hell happens next is confusing but there’s a little metaphor in there and maybe a HLV and a TRF reference too (the Fall and Fall 2.0).

Bill: Oh my god, I understand.
Doctor: You what?
Bill: The last thing she said to me. She promised she wouldn’t leave without me.

In T6t we hear all this business about Sherlock’s vow. That it was apparently to protect Mary. It’s a TRICK! Word play. And Sherlock never actually said that before T6T began. T6T was Mary as storyteller, twisting Sherlock’s words to fit her own evil narrative. What he did say that I talked about here , was that he would always “be there”. Just that, that’s it. He promised he wouldn’t leave

(this gets cooler if you think about EMP starting when Mary shot Sherlock because Sherlock’s vow he made at the wedding was ONE OF THE LAST things he ever said to John before the day of CAM tower) Bill about Heather: “The last thing she said to me. She promised she wouldn’t leave”

The Doctor tells Bill that she needs to release Heather from her promise, to let her go. So she does. They sort of…break up? 

You have to let me go.
You have to let me go.
I will.
I will.
I really liked you.
I really liked you.

In TRF Sherlock sort of breaks up with John before he jumps from the roof by telling John he was a fake. To maybe somehow attempt to release John from what was between them. But of course it didn’t work very well. And then there’s this parallel too…

Then Bill and Heather grab onto each other.

Doctor: Don’t, don’t! Bill, let go! Bill, listen to me. Whatever she’s showing you, whatever she’s letting you see. It’s a lure, it’s a trap. She’s making you part of her, and you can never come back.

So what the hell happens here exactly? I have one idea that’s a bit trippy.

This brief kind of random scene is full metaphor for queerness, and the two opposing ways it is viewed: from the outside in, and from the inside out.

It’s also about John’s fear and internalized homophobia.

From the outside, those who fear it and are against it see it as something dangerous and terrifying, something that spreads and infects and marks you forever. 

From the inside queerness is beautiful, good, and human.

Bill hesitates then grabs a hold of Heather, subconsciously drawn to this “danger” in front of her. We think she’s in danger because in that moment we the audience are seeing queerness from the outside in. But Bill isn’t in danger at all as we find out a moment later. Heather transports her to another world and Bill is sort of filled with a feeling of ecstasy. She doesn’t look scared, she looks happy.

Bill: I see what you see. It’s beautiful. 

But on the outside the Doctor is terrified and thinks she’s in danger. 

Doctor: Whatever she’s showing you, whatever she’s letting you see. It’s a lure, it’s a trap. She’s making you part of her, and you can never come back.

Bill mirrors John here, wanting to enter this world with Sherlock but feeling afraid, with the voice of his internalized homophobia telling him he’s being lured and trapped. That’s why Bill lets go, because she’s afraid. It’s suddenly Sherlock and John reaching for each other again, but that distance between them coming into focus and ripping their hands apart.

Bill: I saw it all for a moment … everything out there. She was going to let me fly with her. She was inviting me. - But I was too scared.

Check out Moffat’s specific and meaningful word choice bolded above. Out there (out of the closet). Fly (because falling’s just like flying). And a reminder that John’s afraid

So often with villains or monsters in DW, they simultaneously mirror something beautiful and something threatening. It’s the danger of those things that we long for but which could also hurt us. It’s a truth that will either kill you in trying to uncover it, or will set you free.

(there’s loads more i know. @jenna221b covered a lot of it. i just wanted to add these few details. thanks for reading. Here’s a Bill x Heather fanvid I found)

anonymous asked:

I mean.. Most otome games normally release routes after seeing that the fans asked for them or in the apps anniversary.. So it kinda makes sense for Cheritz to make at least one more route for Saeran and/or Jihyun.. Idk.. Does that make sense? I'll just keep praying for their routes I love them both so much kfmfjkgc

i’m really wishing that there’ll be a dlc for saeyoung and saeran’s routes, but i don’t want to get my hopes up because it would be very different from the main routes imo. they’d have to do a lot of configuring if they want v to be anywhere near the state of being open to having a love interest that isn’t rika though. saeran’s route would be a little less difficult because it’s easy to simply have mc defect into mint eye, although i can’t imagine it being the healthiest of relationships and some people would likely throw some kind of riot because if that’s the case, mc would be an enabler to all his bad choices, haha.