idk i quite like this

Before |  SLBP {Saizo & Yukimura}

A/N - because I wonder what they were like as teenagers, and I feel like Saizo probably had a pretty hard edge until Yukimura’s RELENTLESS SUNSHINE just wore him down to the exasperated-with-the-world ninja we know and love today, and I also feel like getting there probably involved both of them getting their heads knocked around a bit along the way.

 “You just—he just…he’s…” At fourteen, Yukimura was mostly wild limbs and wide eyes in a face that hadn’t quite lost the shape of childhood to growth.

“Dead.” Four years his senior, Saizo sounded bored, wiping the blade that had claimed the deed on a cloth as he continued down the path. Yukimura realized he was being left behind, and shoved the short sword he hadn’t had a chance to use back in its scabbard, scampering to catch up. Saizo looked lazily over his shoulder, and continued, flat, “The word you are looking for is dead.”

The sudden flush felt dry and hot on his cheeks. “I know what ‘dead’ is.”

“Do you, now.”

“Shut up.”

He wasn’t sure he heard it or not, the mocking whisper of as my little lord commands, but real or imagined, it made him bristle nonetheless. It made him uneasy, the total indifference, and the silence. It bothered him. He didn’t really know why. He knew Saizo was only being silent now because he’d told him to be, and somehow that made it worse. The swift rush of annoyance, unease, was unfamiliar, and sat sour in his flipped stomach, and he found himself mumbling, “He probably had a family.”

Saizo didn’t say anything.

“You know?” Yukimura could keep up now, and wondered if the pace had been adjusted to his or not.

“Dead’s dead.” He sounded tired, in a way Yukimura didn’t understand. So he pressed, trying to.

“Maybe a wife or somethin’.” He was frustrated, though he didn’t want to be, thinking of silence and open-eyed bodies falling backwards.

There was something like a laugh from the shinobi, but it had a cold, careless edge that hurt when it hit, uncoiling something in Yukimura’s stomach that had learned about honor and death and how they mattered. “She’s a widow now.” And then, with hard smile like a knife’s edge, he turned, words lazy and vulgar as a snake’s yawn, and they prickled across Yukimura’s skin in a threatening promise he didn’t understand but knew, “Want to know what happens to most little widows, when their men are killed?”

Yukimura was on him before the words were finished forming, knocking Saizo hard into the dirt and nearly rolling them both over with the force of it. Surprise and bulk gave him the advantage, even half-grown, but he was inexperienced still, and Saizo was not. In a few furious, moments, Saizo had him pinned in the grass, grip hard and bruising, and they were both scraped, filthy and breathing hard.

“Are we done now, little lord?” The snarl wounded like sin, the brush of a cold wind and hardly any louder.

He’d done it, Yukimura realized. He’d actually made Saizo mad.

It elated him, rioting into a grin, and the brief flash of confusion in copper-flecked eyes gave him enough of an opening to free his fist and shove it back at the face framed in silver. Saizo dodged, but Yukimura was on him again, elbows and fists clawing for advantage he never quite managed to wrestle back. He was stronger, even now, but Saizo was smarter, and waited him out until his limbs were weak as water, and when they were, there was a blade pressed to his throat.

Yukimura stared at it, more interested than worried, and glanced up its length to the older teen holding it. The uncompromised smile stayed with glee when he saw simmering heat in place of disinterested ice.

Saizo looked away first.

He looked…tired, again, Yukimura decided, but there was an honesty to his exasperation that felt real, and the shinobi felt so often like smoke slipping through his fingers that the solidity was welcomed with careless joy. The blade vanished, to where, Yukimura didn’t know, but he was already eagerly tugging on the torn, bloody fabric hanging off of the other boy’s shoulder, speaking around the bloodied lip that matched the brilliant bruise starting to form on Saizo’s cheek, “Hey, hey! Teach me that! You gotta teach me that, will you?”

The expression of dismay openly deepened, and then was wiped blank. “No.” Saizo sighed, and leaned over, twirling what had been discarded in his fingers before offering it, hilt-first. “Don’t drop your sword in a fight.” A pause, and then muttered, just low enough for Yukimura to know it was meant to be heard, “Idiot.”

With a smile as bright as the sun, the younger boy snatched back his weapon in delight. He stretched, wincing as it pulled something sore, then licked his lip and tasted copper with salt. “I’m hungry.”

Saizo was already standing, walking down the path again. “You always are.”

Yukimura scrambled up and followed. “Yeah, but I EARNED it this time.”

He thought he saw it. Brief as a flash in shadow, wry and troubled but there nonetheless, on lips that usually strayed little from slightly annoyed. “Maybe.” But whatever he’d seen was forgotten at the roll of Saizo’s fingers, and what was there—

“Hey! That’s my coin purse.”

“Of course.” There it was again, faint but ferocious even though the words were mild as a breeze. Not…quite friendly. Not yet. But it would be, Yukimura knew. He’d won that, he knew it, even if Saizo didn’t yet and that was okay. “You’re buying, aren’t you?”

It was worth it, the teen figured. Probably. He grinned, stretching once more to throw his hands behind his head, beaming up into the sunshine and vaguely accepting that his nose was bleeding now, too. “Yeah, okay.”

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)

4

Eskild & Isak + sharing the same clothes

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

youtube

so, here’s the video I said i’d make to show a speedpaint of my main two styles for digital drawing!

boys and glowing alien bubble tea (ft lineart with keith and ‘lineless’ with lance)

Don’t Stop Us Now

@softkent ‘s 14 Days of Love fic-a-thon, day 6: ruined surprises!

It all started because Katya decided to have mercy on Eric and let him take morning classes this semester. WGSS120 was an amazing class, Professor Atley had the coolest stories about how postwar industrialization led to compulsive female domesticity, and his seatmate wasn’t the worst thing to see at 9:30 AM every Tuesday and Thursday. He would have almost been dreamy if he had the slightest knack for small talk. As it was, Eric didn’t even have a name to go on, just intent blue eyes and an ass that even the baggiest of shorts couldn’t mask.

One day, Eric decided to drop a hospitality bomb on the guy and see if he could coax a response out of him. They were both consistently early to class, so Eric budgeted ten minutes for a brief chat before class started and turned to Cute Guy with a winning smile on his face.

“So how about that reading, huh? I thought it was fascinating how cake mix became a prestige thing- everyone in my family bakes, and I don’t think we’ve used a box mix in forty years.”

“Yeah,” the guy said, “I think it had something to do with the scientific advancements they made in food preservation for the troops. Shelf stabilization wouldn’t have been nearly as achievable in earlier years.”

Miraculously, once you got onto a clear subject, Cute Guy was actually a decent conversationalist. Eric found himself losing track of time as they dissected last night’s chapters of Marling.

“And the American National Exhibition anecdote!” he giggled. “Who can even tell the difference between Russian and American Coke?”

“I bet it’s easier with all of the Soviet Union breathing down your back. ‘Da, cola of Mother Russia is vkusno!’”

“Nice accent,” Eric told Cute Guy.

“Really? Thanks, I’ll have to tell Geno. He’s always knocking my Russian. He’s, uh, a friend of my dad’s, and we both play hockey.”

“So that’s what your weird doodles are? Hockey plays?”

“Yeah, I’m captain of the hockey team here. We’re not half bad, if I say so myself.”

“Wow,” Eric enthused, “you must be a pretty good skater, then.”

“Yeah, I guess. I could teach you sometime, if you want. I’m Jack, by the way,’ Cute Guy said.

Keep reading

ocean gem

2

A restful few days in the Bunker since the argument with Mary, then (!) (12x14 sneak peek)

parallels in the ones who walk away from omelas

after actually reading the story i am here to analyze the parallels we see so far. im gonna assume you guys have seen the summaries because they are EVERYWHERE but basically the story centers around a utopian town called Omelas, who’s perfection relies on a singular miserable child. every citizen of Omelas knows this and must make the choice whether to stay knowing the cost of their happiness, or to leave and face whatever is out there. 

in the description of the summer festival, it says the horses were adorned with “streamers of silver, gold, and green.” the concept photos must be from before they knew the truth, while they were happy at the festival.

in the teaser we see someone running out of a door (that kinda looks like a bus door to me), through the snow, and into the warm light of Omelas. “I incline to think that people from towns up and down the coast have been coming in to Omelas…on very fast little trains and double-decked trams.” i think the snow symbolizes the cold world outside the utopia of Omelas. 

the rest of the similarities all happen in the last paragraph, when the narrator is describing the people who know the truth and choose to leave. 

the first one is jungkook standing outside Omelas at nighttime, and all of them running between the buildings. “Night falls: the traveller must pass down village streets, between the houses with yellow-lit windows” and “…they walk ahead into the darkness”

next is jimin walking through the field, “They keep walking across the farmlands of Omelas.”

and lastly, all of them going out together. this is where the story and the video start to differ. in the story, it emphasizes that every traveller who leaves Omelas leaves alone. “Each alone, they go west or north, towards the mountains.” or “Each one goes alone, youth or girl man or woman.” clearly, this is not the case. 

they are all walking together, determination in their eyes. “But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas.”

Let’s be honest, I would date every member of the 1991-1994 Gryffindor Quidditch team

I colored one of the panels in my Merman&Captain AU manga:D

The whole thing is not uploaded yet, (except some doodle-like pieces in my sideblog.) Anyways, happy Yuuri makes me happy too:) Hope you have a nice day~

Dirk Gently, second attempt :-)

ASOIAF MEME: Wenda the White Fawn and the Kingswood Brotherhood

The Kingswood Brotherhood was an infamous outlaw organization during the reign of King Aerys II. Operating out of the Kingswood, the Brotherhood gained recognition by kidnapping several nobles and evading early attempts to capture them. Ultimately, they became such a nuisance that King Aerys sent a detachment of soldiers led by notable members of the Kingsguard to destroy them. Lord Sumner Crakehall and his two squires, Jaime Lannister and Merrett Frey, were also part of the retinue, led by Ser Arthur Dayne.

The Brotherhood was sheltered by the smallfolk of the Kingswood, preventing the royal forces from finding and ending the outlaws. However, Ser Arthur Dayne gained the confidence of the smallfolk, who had believed that the only ones protecting their rights was the Brotherhood. Arthur petitioned the king for better rights for the smallfolk and he made sure the royal forces paid for any items they took from the peasantry. Arthur’s actions swung the allegiance of the smallfolk to the royal forces who could now hunt the Brotherhood, as the outlaws could no longer walk around with impunity in the forest.

In a notable clash, the young Jaime Lannister, Ser Arthur Dayne, and Ser Barristan Selmy faced off against several notable outlaws, including the Smiling Knight and their leader, Simon Toyne. Barristan killed Simon, while Arthur killed the Smiling Knight. Jaime regards the battle, in which he crossed swords with the Smiling Knight, as one of his fondest memories.

Other members of the Brotherhood included Wenda the White Fawn, Oswyn Longneck the Thrice Hanged, Big Belly Ben, Fletcher Dick and Ulmer. All members are presumed dead except Ulmer, who joined the Night’s Watch to avoid execution.