it goes on even further than this too

The Layers of Meanings Behind the Rings

VictuuriWeek 2017 – Day 7 – Victor Prompt – Promises

So for VictuuriWeek day 7, I’d like to talk about the rings and all the various promises they hold. This post is written as a complimentary piece to @lazuliblade‘s amazing meta here (2 metas for 2 rings) so please make sure to read that one as well! In this analysis, we’ll be looking at the various tie-ins the series has to the various layers of meaning represented by the rings.

I’ll be going in the order of how they’re mentioned in Laz’s post so please enjoy!

Keep reading

The Walk

“His hair has gone grey. He passes every day.
They say he walks the length of the city…

He is working through the unimaginable.”

- Hamilton, Quiet Uptown

It’s fall and the leaves are dying. They brush against the polished shine of his shoes, fragile beneath his feet – brittle. He feels brittle, too. Dry and used and wasting away.

Graves’ knee plaques him. They tell him it won’t ever fully heal. He grips the walking cane a little tighter. His wand is in its center, unrecognizable. An anchor meant to help him feel less crippled. Regal and ornate like every other part of his well designed mask. A symbol of power and wealth. Like his opulent coat and his freshly pressed suits and the shoes he still shines even though he has no job to wear them to. 

Armor that has no use.

Every morning, he goes about dressing himself as if nothing happened; too afraid to stop. And every evening, he winds up here – in Central Park.

He feels thin, like water spread across a wide floor, ever spreading further and further apart from itself.

His knee gives. He grits his teeth, his breath a great and angry plume in front of his face. He breathes and the feeling passes.

He watches a group of children chase each other, hears their laughter and feels a pang for the life he’s missed.

The wind bites deeper than his coat can stand and he remembers a time he didn’t used to feel so cold so easily. He stumbles, teeth already bared to curse. He seethes. His knee pops cruelly. He dips. No one notices, no one notices

– And then there is a hand at his elbow, not holding him up but rather entwining with his until he is elbow to elbow with a familiar blue coat. Scarred hands and pleasant eyes, happy to see him. Smiling. Wrinkles from his laugh lines – so unlike his own. 

Graves’ wrinkles don’t seem to go away, lately.

“I can’t believe you started without me! I almost missed out on the best park of the walk!” Newt says cheerfully, cheeks rosy from running and from the chill.

Graves scoffs and tries to remember how his lonely evening walks had somehow become a tradition he shared with the wispy Magizoologist. A ritual that had somehow bloomed seemingly from nothing. One day, Newt was just there – and had been ever since.

“You hardly missed anything, Scamander. You accomplished in mere seconds what took me minutes to do. You could go walk it again and catch up with me without missing a beat.”

Newt falls into step with him, unhurried. Content to meander not because Graves cannot move faster, but because he genuinely seems to enjoy slowing down this aspect of his day. To breathe.

Newt tucks his chin and smiles as though he knows something Graves does not.

“It’s not the park I was afraid I’d miss,” Newt says, friendly, and begins to chatter as he always does. And calmly, Graves listens. Queenie and Tina had warned him once to be patient with the man. Something about him being a bit of an odd duck – just as quick to withdraw as he was to speak his mind. But Graves found that Newt had no trouble holding up a conversation. He spoke of his creatures quite liberally now that Graves had no power to reprimand him. He spoke of his book and his plans and his many adventures.

And despite himself, Graves finds it calming just to listen. Occasionally he engages. He asks about what creatures he has or how Newt came to acquire them; but generally he just listens, swept up in the robust passion of Newt’s words that made his own life feel thin and grey by comparison. Sometimes he just closes his eyes and lets Newt lead him - lost in the soft wonder of his voice.

He can’t help but be in awe of the sheer force of nature that is one Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.

The hand at his elbow grips him a little tighter, as though anticipating something exciting as they crest the same hill they always climb to catch the sunset they always watch. The trek leaves Graves aching and unable to catch his breath. His hand trembles fiercely on the grip of his cane, but he does not ever mention it and neither does Newt. Instead, Graves takes a deep, steadying breath and looks out at the view before them – caught as he is always caught by the sheer magnificence of oranges and purples and pinks against the dimming New York sky. He feels a little bit of the weight on his bones leave him, his body oddly light, and sighs.

“This was what I was afraid I’d miss,” Newt says softly.

“That’s the great thing about sunsets, Newt. They come back,” Graves says dryly, eyes sliding from his favorite view in the city to his companion to wryly tease him – and falls still. Newt is looking at him, smiling a little smile, and suddenly everything feels important. 

It’s then that Graves realizes that Newt had never been watching the sunset. Not this evening or the evening prior or the evening before that. He blinks, at a loss. He blames the cold on his rising flush and coughs to hide his stammer.

“An old man staring at the sky. Hardly a novel view.”

He refuses to look at the man even when Newt’s grip gets a little tighter.

“A brave man choosing to see it once again,” Newt says, certain. “I think there’s more beauty in that than in a sunset that will come regardless.”

When Graves returns to the park the next day, it’s not for the sunset.

bkwrm523  asked:

Weird question here; who (if anyone) on the Enterprise, if they unexpectedly met a clone or something of themselves, would have the immediate reaction of "damn I'm good looking." And then flirt with themselves for five minutes rather than do anything useful? Sorry, just bored at work = weird asks.

I interpreted this as TOS ‘verse meets AOS ‘verse, Sara. 

The short answer to your question - Hikaru.

Proper discussion follows. Shout out to @medicatemedrmccoy​ and her beautiful idea of Puppy!Pav. I am in your debt, Sunshine.

Jim Kirk

The Jim’s are a little in awe of each other, at first. 

Brown-eyed Jim can’t believe that he was ever that young, and blue-eyed Jim sees brown-eyed Jim as the shining example of everything he can never be, no matter how he tries.

They find themselves alone, and that’s when it all comes out. Brown-eyed Jim listens in horror at the story of the Kelvin, finds himself suddenly understanding the glittering hardness that reflects subtly from this younger version of himself, the jaded, rebellious exterior that blue-eyed Jim projects to hide his loneliness and his fear, all the hurts and doubts of his childhood. It’s a bit like looking into a cracked mirror, and it breaks Jim’s heart. 

Brown-eyed Jim shares his own story, then, and both Jim’s wonder at the wiles of the universe, how two people who’d lived such vastly different lives could be so fundamentally the same, and how, through it all, the horrors of Tarsus had remained a bitter constant.

They talk long into the night, and they find that they share more than they think - a love of classic literature, an affinity for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, an unprecedented skill at 3-D chess, a deep, unspoken fear of failure, inadequacy.

“Slow down,” says brown-eyed Jim to blue-eyed Jim. “Breathe. Look around you, Jim. Look what you have already. I was well into my thirties before I was given command of a starship. Remember, too, that it’s not the life you’ve lived, but the choices you’ve yet to make that determine the man you’ll become. Keep your face to the stars and the wind at your back, and the rest will follow.”

And this is how the Jim’s discover one last thing that they have in common -

They are both exceptional kissers.


The Spock’s are cordial and distant to one another. They work in tandem, each one half of a whole, each secretly wondering about the differences in experience and perspective of the other, each one knowing it would be illogical to ask.

Montgomery Scott

The Scotty’s are instant besties. 

Finally, finally, somebody who understands that it’s ill-advised to run a dilithium-depleted starship at warp nine, or that it’s dangerous to manually reroute directly from the matter/antimatter reactor to recharge the phaser banks, or that, yes, captain, it’s downright daft to park an entire fuckin’ starship under the water!

They swap stories over a bottle of scotch, each one more ludicrous than the last, and the gestures become increasingly animated, the interjections increasingly indecent until the conversation finally dissolves into a series of “Nonsense!” and, “Yer off yer ‘ead!” and “God’s truth, sir!” “He didn’t, the roaster!” and “Aye, but he bloody well did!” and “Get tae fuck oot!”

At long last, TOS Scotty places his hand on his breast. “Monty,” he says, as deadly serious as a drunken man can ever be. “It’s been an honor, sir. A pleasure and an honor.”

AOS Scotty feels tears welling in his eyes. “Aye, sir,” he says softly, extending his hand for a heartfelt clasp. “That it has.”

Hikaru Sulu

The Sulu’s are immediately appreciative of one another.

“Hello, there.”

“Well, hello myself.”

They waggle eyebrows, they flirt, they banter back and forth, they wink and blow kisses and slap each other’s asses. They even duel - much to the delight of the Pavel’s.

But it never goes any further than this, because each Hikaru is loyal only to his own Ben, and each Hikaru understands this perfectly.

Nyota Uhura

These two take to each other immediately. It’s an understanding that happens without words - in fact, the Nyota’s hardly speak at all, communicating mainly through subtle smirks and knowing glances. 

“Freaky,” the Hikaru’s call it. 

The Pavel’s agree.

Pavel Chekov

The Pavel’s are a force to be reckoned with.

They remind the Nyota’s of puppies, a bit - small, wide-eyed and almost comically enthusiastic, and way too close for comfort

Leonard McCoy

The Len’s hate each other’s guts.

Well, at first, anyway.

AOS Len circles slowly around TOS Len, who stares him down with a glare worthy of high noon.

“Well, spit it out son,” says blue-eyed Len. “Ain’t got all day for you to form a proper thought in that pretty little head.”

It goes downhill from there.

“An anterolateral approach? My god, man, what is this, the dark ages? A superior method is to -”

“Get. Your hands. Out of. My field.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t act surprised, though, when your patient develops a post-op infection. I’m sure you’ll document it as idiopathic.”

“Get the hell out of my sickbay.”

“Your sickbay? Your sickbay? Lord help us, they’ll let any ol’ idiot with a scalpel onto a starship these days!”

“Oh, yeah? Ironic, coming from you. What is it that you do for your patients, balance their humors? Stick around, then, Leeches, you might just learn some actual medicine. But keep your fossilized fingers to yourself.”

“Actual medicine? Tell me this, hotshot trauma surgeon - Did you wait to finish your residency before you violated your oath, or were you a cold-blooded murderer right out the gate?”

That’s how it comes to blows.

In the end, it’s Jim that they bond over.

AOS Len is impressed at how TOS Len leaps to action, despite the fact that it’s not his Jim bleeding from the head, and TOS Len notices immediately how calm and composed his counterpart is,

Once the Len’s are focused on a common goal, working together becomes startlingly easy.

“Grab the -”

“Got it. Did you -”

“Yup. Check the -”

“I’m a step ahead of you, son.”

One Jim is settled safely in a biobed, AOS Len shoots TOS Len a wary once-over.

“Alright then, Leeches,” he huffs, folding his arms defensively across his chest. “Purely out of curiosity…”

TOS Len gives him a good eyebrow.

AOS Len ignores this. “What approach would you use?”

TOS Len smiles.

They discuss medicine first, because that’s easiest.

They swap stories and surgical techniques, each appreciating the other’s exhaustive knowledge, each impressed by the other’s innovative methods and revolutionary contributions to the field. Leonard McCoy, in any universe, is a prolific surgeon and an exceptional CMO, it seems.

The conversation turns to David.

TOS Len drops his head into his hands. “Different universe,” he mutters, “Same mistakes. I’d hoped you’d been spared that much.”

AOS Len looks at TOS Len, then, and there’s a fire burning in his eyes. “I’ve been spared nothing,” he says softly, and the knowledge passes between them – Jocelyn, David, Joanna, oh, Joanna -  the grief, the fierce regret.

“I’m so sorry,” TOS Len whispers after a long moment.

And he is.

“Does your Jim do this to you?” AOS Len asks suddenly, as they are standing at the edge of Jim’s biobed.

He hasn’t woken up yet.

TOS Len snorts. Son, you have no idea. “My Jim,” he starts, because the words fall so easily from his lips.

He looks at brown-eyed Len then, sharply, then again with an expression of slow wonder.

“My Jim,” he repeats softly, then quicker, harsher, putting the pieces together, “Your Jim. You mean, you and your Jim.”

Brown-eyed Len drops his gaze, then, because he hears the ache in those words, the longing, and he understands.

“It’s not like that, for us,” Blue-eyed Len tells him after a long moment. He’s staring at nothing.

“It could be,” AOS Len replies softly, because he can see it.

He knows.

“Leeches,” AOS Len rounds the corner of the transporter room.

TOS Len is on the pad, waiting for the soft “energize,” waiting to go home.

AOS Len bounds up the steps. “I just…” he starts, pauses, ‘cause he’s not exactly sure just what he’s doing, yet.

“Son,” TOS Len starts, but the laugh in his eyes belies his sharp words. “Didn’t your Mama teach you any manners?” He cocks a teasing eyebrow toward AOS Len. “I believe the words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you.’”

AOS Len rolls his eyes, but he reaches for TOS Len anyway, offering him a firm handshake. “Take care of him, Dr. McCoy,” he says softly. Brown eyes flicker up to meet blue. “Your Jim.”

TOS Len huffs a quick breath out his nose, gives AOS Len a firm little nod. “Always, Len,” he says with a little quirk of his lips. “Always.”

{fic} Sing Down the Skies ch 1/?

Part 1 of the ‘Elain comes to the Spring Court post-acomaf’ + fake dating, sort of + extreme angst elucien fic! 1.5k. rated T for being really sad. ao3

“I’m going to pretend to fall in love with you.”

All the air goes out of the room. Lucien is so uncomprehending he’s sure he must have misheard her. “What?”


The negotiations have ended such that only one of Feyre’s sisters will be released to the Spring Court. Lucien is not sure of the particulars as to why. All of the conflict, all of the plotting, all of Tamlin’s rage and Feyre’s simpering smiles and Rhysand’s dramatic demands have faded into a dull buzzing he no longer bothers to parse.

The sister they send will be Elain, Tamlin tells them. He sounds proud, like this is some kind of gift that he’s giving them both, though it is presumably what Rhysand and Feyre decided upon beforehand and then manipulated Tamlin into thinking he accomplished.

Feyre’s fake concern is almost insufferable. She bites her lip, puts a hand on her heart, leans into Tamlin for support as her eyelashes flutter in an imitation of feeble strength. “Oh, of course I wish you could have got them both, but it will be such a relief to have Elain away from them. Nesta’s always been so strong, I’m sure—“ here she falters, so that Tamlin can wrap an arm around her waist and murmur concernedly, and she can give him a weak smile of gratitude, “—I’m sure she can bear it for a little longer.”

It’s almost insulting, the levels of Tamlin’s stupidity her charade is revealing. There is no negotiation in the world that would have stopped Feyre—the real Feyre—from demanding both of them back, from crossing Prythian and personally dismantling the Night Court brick by brick to get them back, if she thought they were really in even the slightest amount of danger. And Tamlin, who just smiles dotingly and kisses her on the forehead, should know that. Tamlin should know that better than anyone.

“You should be excited, Lucien,” It takes Lucien a moment to even register that Tamlin’s speaking to him, voice laced with a tense expectation: Feyre is performing her gratitude, why aren’t you?

“I am excited,” Lucien says smoothly, giving Tamlin the barest of acceptable smiles. “Of course I am. I’m sorry, please excuse me.”

Keep reading

ifollowriversandhuskies  asked:

Lemme elaborate. I know who Goku is. I'm just confused about his 'butchered character.' I always thought he was consistent.

Ok, here goes..

DBZ Goku vs DBS Goku

You might want to watch the series or read the manga to decide for yourself… But, the best way I can describe it? The original Goku grows up, still has some silly manchild fun and naive simplicity, but also had an air of maturity, seriousness and even a detached nuance that was at times rather difficult to place–introspective and quiet, even. Particularly in the Japanese version. He also had a more layered relationship with Chichi and was more “knowed” and affectionate than his hardcore childish ignorant DBS counterpart. Goku made mistakes sometimes too–flawed, a bit oblivious and even a bit of a trickster–but despite his moments of selfishness and honest desire to fight above all else, he was also a man who was led by his morality. 

The current Goku in DBS? Is a slapstick parody of his silly, naive, and socially crude traits, which are played up to the point that he’s a senseless, forgetful dumbass, way too rude/inconsiderate and on a consistent basis to really be “him”, because he’s not rounded out anymore–and he’s lost all of his maturity and nuance. Even by the end of DB, he was more mature than he is in DBS. By the end of DBZ, Goku was a fully fleshed out, albiet “simple” soul with a surprising depth of character. The anime goes further in all these traits than the manga does, tho the main themes of his personaliy remain. In DBS, he’s just an unlikeable piece of shit and I wouldn’t cry if he got sucked into a jet turbine and died for good

They’re not what Zevran was expecting.

The plan isn’t ruined, per se, but he was rather counting on them to be slightly less suspicious. Grey Wardens are heroes of legend, and people routinely called heroes are supposed to be giving and trusting. This lot clearly isn’t. The elf - Dalish, if he’s seeing correctly - and Qunari are just short of openly disdainful, trading eyerolls when they think no one can see. At least, he clearly sees the elf roll her eyes; the Qunari is on the far side and perhaps more mannerly than Zevran gives him credit for.

Perhaps only the human is a Grey Warden then. He certainly seems eager to assist the woman Zevran’s hired. His information is scare and outdated; it’s entirely possible the others could be tagalongs. That would be more fitting. Champions sometimes amass a following, and outlaw heroes have their own appeal. And if the Grey Warden is this blindly trusting, well, he certainly needs them.

That rather complicates things for him though. The two suspicious ones are scanning the horizon, shoulders tight, clearly expecting something. The massive dog - and Zevran’s not sure if he’s a Grey Warden or not, this being Ferelden - is scenting the air. They’re not going to make it to the wagon.

Keep reading

Here we go, an update!

“Disturbing, these findings are.” Master Yoda’s ears droop slightly, as his clawed hand gently lays the datapad he held back on the table.

“That’s the least you can call it.” Mace massages his temples and breathes deeply and evenly. The sheer magnitude of the discovery is enough to stop one’s breath. “How have we missed this?”

Keep reading

The Masks We Wear (7/?)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6


Thanks, as always to @coffeewithcaptainswan​ for beta’ing

Previously on The Masks We Wear

Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. A series of unfortunate events led to The Saviour rejecting The Survivor’s advances, leaving them both in turmoil. But right now they’ve got bigger fish to fry. The Evil Queen has revealed that The Dark One intends to control the world using The Dagger and they need to stop him before it’s too late …

“Well, I’m sorry, Hook, but I don’t want you.”

“When Killian came over the following night for Netflix she was going to call him out on his innuendo and ask him for that side order of “chill” he’d always promised.”

“He had blurted out he was in love with Emma then tried to convince The Saviour to give him a chance. This surely went beyond bad form.”

“The Dark One wants the entire world at his mercy. Superheroes included.”

I don’t want Emma Swan… I don’t want Emma Swan… I don’t want Emma Swan…

The words echoed through Emma’s head. She had to concentrate hard on not feeling anything, on keeping her magic under control and at bay. The effort was overwhelming her and the rest of the meeting with Regina was passing her by in a haze.

“We’re agreed,” Regina said, “the day after tomorrow, Hook and I will infiltrate Gold’s labs to -”

“Wait, what?” Emma’s head shot up. The lights blinked around her, Regina looked unimpressed at her reaction.

“Decided to participate now, have we Saviour?” Regina’s lips were pursed and her eyebrows raised in irritation.

Emma had seen that look on her face a million times, it was almost always followed by a terse Miss Swan , Emma hated when Regina called her that - but at least Regina didn’t know who she was to do that this time.

“If you’d paid any attention to what was going on you’d know that only two of us can go into Gold’s. We’ve only got two cuffs to protect us from Gold’s security system that includes special modules that interfere with our powers. I have to be one because I’m your ticket in, we agreed that Hook would be the other.”

Keep reading

Immortal FAHC headcannons

Each member of the team is immortal, but it goes beyond that. Their immortality is just a secondary bonus compared to the main power they got when they respawned the first time. Each one is different.

Geoff –
He can turn any liquid into alcohol. Hand him a coke, he’s drinking whiskey. Orange juice turns into moonshine. It’s cool to watch, because it swirls without being stirred, then is suddenly perfectly clear. But it’s more than just drinking though. He’s turned water bottles into a Molotov cocktail. Ever try to run a truck when it’s only Everclear in the tank? It doesn’t work well.

But there is a dark secret to this power, and he only does it when he is pissed off. He can turn the bloodstream into alcohol as well. It kills quickly, not instantly, but quickly and it’s painful. It’s even more painful if Geoff decides to set them on fire. And he can do it not only with blood, but with any human fluid. Snot, piss, spit, tears, all of it.

He doesn’t let himself torture people anymore.

Jack –
Jack shapeshifts. She can turn into any animal that she’s seen (and she spent a decade on safaris just to expand her horizons). She can also change her human form, but she only has two shapes for some reason, her cute red-headed female form and a large male form with an impressive beard. She likes her bearded form for driving to heists and when the boys get into the car, she’s back to her female form, tearing down the roads like a crazy person.

She has also spent entire days curled up in a sunbeam as a ginger Mancoon cat. She has sat in Ryan’s lap as a dog. She enjoy spending time in various animal forms in the apartment, just to surprise or comfort her boys.

She also tore an entire rival gang apart as a bear because Michael bet her $1000 she couldn’t. She hasn’t done it again and doesn’t talk about it much, mainly because that bestial rage is a little more addicting than she wants to think about.

Gavin –
Gavin spent the first fifty years of his immortality thinking he didn’t have a power. He thought he was broken. Then the industrial revolution happened, and suddenly it all made sense. Gavin’s power was with machinery and technology.

He can make anything work. Computers are like an extension of himself, and they do his bidding. He spends hours in front of a screen every day, perfecting and playing, hacking into things that he shouldn’t. He’s coaxed information out of the most secure databases on the planet.

For some reason, it doesn’t extend to video games. Michael and Ray beat him on a daily basis without trying. Gavin just cannot convince games to do what he wants, and he always loses.

Ray –
Ray doesn’t miss. It’s physically impossible for him to miss now. It doesn’t matter what he’s got, once a projectile leaves his hand, it hits what he’s aiming at. Even if he isn’t really aiming, it’ll hit the target. He can’t miss.

He wins extra cash off of dart games when he’s running low. He wins carnival games when the guys drag him out to them. He always ends up getting banned at some point in the evening. He likes making random bets with Gavin, mainly because he knows he’ll win.

“Bet you I can hit the dumpster on the other side of the building.” And ping, somehow ricocheting off three buildings, a car and a freaking phone line, the bullet goes straight through the dumpster.

Jeremy –
He shrinks. It’s part of the reason why he’s an infiltration expert. He can shrink down to any size he wants and can go anywhere. He used to hate it, used to hate the fact that he was smaller than everyone else, but he finally came to just accept it.

It’s when he joins the Fakes, and Michael jokingly yells “Lil’ J!” as he shrinks down to get on the other side of a door, that Jeremy starts actually liking his ability. Every team name is a short joke, and he goes along with it, finding the humor in it.

He keeps getting dragged into stupid pranks too. He’s lost count of how many times he’s been asked to shrink down and infiltrate Gavin’s room jut to move everything three inches to the left.

Ryan –

There is reason behind the mask and the face paint. He started wearing something like it a long time ago, when he finally realized what his power was. He is ridiculously charming. He can convince anyone to day anything with a just a wink and a smile. He’s conned people out of their livelihoods before, just to see if he could do it. He was a real vagabond for a very long time, knowing that he could always get food with just a grin.

There are people who are naturally immune to it though. Geoff proved to be one, as did Jack, much to Ryan’s relief. It was part of the reason why Ryan decided to join the Fakes. Being exposed to it for a while can also help build up an immunity too, though it fades if Ryan’s gone for a while. That’s why Ryan was one of the Lad’s favorite people in the beginning.

Michael –
He is naturally angry, always has been, and that anger translates into his power. He gets stronger the angrier he is, almost like the Hulk. It’s a gradual thing, where he starts off small and happy, but as he gets more and more pissed, he starts to be able to throw things that’s beyond human comprehension.

It goes further than that too. He also becomes impervious to damage the angrier he gets. Not particularly useful one would think since he’s already immortal, but it’s gotten him out of hot water before. Pissed off and swinging a shotgun like a sword, he’s been shot at with a minigun and shrugged it off like it wasn’t even a bee sting. He’s gotten high on rage and walked through a mine field just to see if he was in one piece on the other side. He was.

He has to be careful in the apartment though. He once got angry at a video game and threw a controller at a television. The controller went through the Tv, the wall, and shot off into the sky where it hit a passing helicopter. It went straight through the cockpit, killing the pilot instantly. The helicopter crashed in the middle of the interstate, causing one of the worst pile-ups Los Santos had ever seen.

Geoff screamed himself hoarse over the television.

thresher shark by DorinMantoiu Only in Malapascua one can have an almost guaranteed sight. 4 years after the first encounter we returned, first day was a bummer, way too many divers (I might even say triple than 4 yrs ago), today we chose a slightly further away spot than where everyone goes, it came so close I had to zoom out from 35mm on full frame! :) I love their facial expression, always though of a surprised dolphin

Any Romantic Arc in Sherlock Would Have Failed.

After having a few months to process the disaster that is season 4 of BBC Sherlock I’ve come to the miserable conclusion that the confirmation of any ship would have failed miserably. Be it Sherlolly, Adlock, Sheriarty or Johnlock.

Just putting this out there, I will ship Johnlock till the day I die and will always argue that there’s more evidence to support that being genuine than Sheriarty, Adlock or Sherlolly.

However, obviously most casual viewers don’t see any romantic arc between John and Sherlock because it is very subtle. In fact it’s too subtle. It is too subtle to be good story telling quality.

I know that tjlcers used to love thinking that Mofftiss actually cared about being clever and their references to canon and subtext and mirroring were hinting at future plot arcs. I mean it goes beautifully with the theme of the show being about the smartest man in the world who can reach conclusions through the tiniest of details.

Except there’s one problem. 90% of the people who keep these tv shows going through their subscriptions are what we call ‘casuals’. Most casuals won’t bother scouring every frame for references or hints or even care to come up with their own theories. Conclusion: Most entertainment, including BBC Sherlock is made for the casual viewer (duh). This means that a show has to be clear with the major themes it wants to present.

In Mofftiss’ case they failed to execute most of their themes but here specifically we will be delving into the theme of romantic love.

First I’ll get Sheriarty.

Of course no one ever expects the hero to end up with the villain because…..well it never happens. Good triumphs over evil and all that. But even if one wanted to do this odd decision they would have to abide by good story telling in order to convey the message. Affection is automatically excluded in this case since neither Sherlock or Moriarty have ever shown compassion towards each other. But I suppose a case can be made for lust and a dark admiration for each other’s capabilities. You do see a little bit of it, but it never goes further than some admiration and Moriarty flirting to drive Sherlock up the wall. It’s crystal clear that Sherlock cares too much for John and his friends to ever go to the dark side and be with Jim. Again, the good triumphs over evil theme that most media prefers to portray. To add to that, Sherlock and JIm have no direct contact during season 4. Would it have made sense for Sherlock to suddenly confess that he loves Jim? No. I bet he’d happily let him get blown to smithereens.


Sherlock rejects her when she asks him out, he tells her to shut up and not bother him. He finally appreciates her when she helps him fake his death and even then he remains uninterested in her. Sherlock isn’t bothered by her getting married yet mopes when John gets married and makes an effort to find all the information on his wife’s past relationships. (Let’s not forget that Molly features in 10 minutes maximum of every episode) Following that, Molly takes up even less time in each episode. She’s there just to show that the drugs will kill Sherlock and to babysit Rosie. During those brief interactions Sherlock neither cares for her or what she has to say.  Does this sound like a love story to you? Does it sound that the show made any effort to enforce that there was love between the two? No. (and please don’t forget that the Sherlolly kiss was fake. Don’t be like my grandfather who literally forgot that it wasn’t real.) Yet despite this portrayal the audience is supposed to accept that Sherlock loves and has always loved Molly in a romantic way. You’d think that even if the relationship was a last minute decision they would at least foreshadow the love between them in the first two episodes of the season. Nope. There’s no build up to it at all.

Adlock next.

This time there are proper hints to a love story or some type of fascination between Sherlock and Irene but there are some things that still hinder that reading.

Yes the music in a Scandal in Belgravia is sensual and romantic and all the themes having to do with nudity, virginity and sex certainly help to establish a romantic atmosphere. However Sherlock isn’t interested in what Irene has to offer him (sex), he’s interested in her intelligence. John immediately suggests that Irene covers her nude form because he’s obviously afraid of embarrassing himself if you know what I mean. But Sherlock doesn’t. He does look uncomfortable with her nudity but he doesn’t do anything to combat it due to pride. Initially I thought that he couldn’t read anything from her body because he was too distracted. However this is blatantly contradicted when it’s revealed that he got her measurements. And really ask yourself this: would a man who is definitely attracted to women and this woman in particular be able to do that? His interest in her is confirmed to be non-sexual when he repeatedly refuses her advances to go ‘have dinner’ by responding that he’s not hungry. Even when it looks like he makes an advance by holding her wrist he’s actually taking her pulse to determine if she’s in love with him to confirm the password to her phone. And as for him saving her in the end, what you think he wouldn’t care about any ordinary person in her place? To me it was quite clear that Irene did love or lust after the detective but he was not on the same page. Even if you do think that they loved each other it wouldn’t make sense to have Irene be entirely absent from the rest of the show (except for a brief cameo and a text where it isn’t even revealed what it says) until the very last moment where Sherlock would have to admit his undying love for her or she dies. Again, there’s no build up.

Finally we get to the meat of the matter. I know people will probably hate me for my opinion but Johnlock being confirmed in The Final Problem or some episode in the far future is a no go. Yes there has been subtext but the keyword is SUBTEXT. In order to tell a proper love story so that the majority of the audience understands it, it needs to be text. The obvious sign that a love story is badly written is when an audience doesn’t see any chemistry between the leads or if it’s a side story when the kiss comes as a complete surprise. A blink it and you’ll miss it scene of John’s head pasted on the Vitruvian man isn’t going to cut it. And neither are a bunch of situations where affection can be easily interpreted as platonic (of course I’m not talking about all moments). It doesn’t help that it looks like Mofftiss deliberately resisted including anymore characters speculating about the nature of Sherlock and John’s relationship in the past two seasons. As the episodes dragged on I was still hoping it would be canon, and with all the drama that emerged during season 4 filming I was certain it was going to happen. It would be difficult but not entirely impossible to create some build up in three two hour episodes. But as the The Six Thatchers aired my hopes were crushed and I was actually praying that there would be no love confession. Why? Because there wouldn’t have been proper build up for the dedicated fans to properly anticipate it never mind the casual audience.

Keep this in mind. I know it’s a negative prospect but if a movie or tv series has hinted at a gay relationship but it hasn’t gotten banned in some cinemas or countries (Russia anyone?) it hasn’t conveyed the message well enough.

To me it’s clear now that the Mofftiss enjoyed toying with people’s expectations about their ships.  I’ll never forgive them for disrespecting the lgbt community (not just with queerbaiting, they did other stuff) and for being rude to fans and for making fun of the one ship that isn’t straight.

I realise that lately my blog has turned into a bit of a repetitive ramble about the SSW Theory, things coming full circle, things returning, and neverending cycles so apologies if I sound a bit like a broken record, like I’m stuck on a loop or like I’m going around in circles (I’m also sorry for the truly terrible puns. Really.), but there is another cycle I’d like to mention now…

When The Incident first happened, I wrote my initial thoughts on the matter in which I discussed the relationship between hope and control both on and off screen. For those who didn’t read this post, or just can’t remember - as it’s been 84 years - a very brief summary would be that Robron/Roblivion’s future was the hope in the storyline but to Robert, Aaron effectively ripped this from him and threw it back in his face. So losing that hope prompted Robert to latch on to the one thing he had left - control. He took control of the situation by making sure the “break up” was on his terms, and that Aaron hurt just as much as he did. And he took control of Rebecca, the one person or situation he so easily could. Because he has never been able to control Aaron, because that would mean being able to control his feelings. And Aaron’s taught Robert that that just isn’t possible. And off screen, we had all the hope. But the show has all of the control, and this storyline served as a reminder for that - that the show always has a plan, and that we’ve just been fortunate that for quite a long time these plans fell in line with our hopes. Until this storyline.

What does this have to do with now? The fact that this cycle of the relationship between hope and control has come full circle again, like everything else. As a fandom, we’d become used to a constant level of spoilers and interaction with the show itself. A lot of the time, this is what has inspired our hopes. But then this storyline came and with it, the radio silence. And it was this alien concept, so unlike the familiarity of before, which prompted the initial lack of hope in so much of the fandom. Because our aspirations for Robron and the show had become so synonymous with this concept of communication, it was enabled to control our hope. But that’s where all the various theories stem from - our ability to build our own hope. And that’s what this sudden, unsettling silence inspired us to do. Similarly on screen, the hope returned when Aaron did, when Robron were reunited. But the control? The control has been with Rebecca since the moment The Incident took place. Or more specifically, since the moment her pregnancy was announced. Because let’s not forget 2015!Robert did/does exist. (Alas.) He isn’t above scaring someone into silence. But a baby? There’s nothing he can do to change that. He has lost all control in this storyline. As evidenced by his very un-Robert-like behaviour as a panicking wreck. (And this is one of the reasons that I feel like the pregnancy side-plot was actually needed in this storyline.) So what does Robert do? He takes control of the one thing, the one person, he’s never been able to. Aaron. He takes him away, fully expecting to have full control back when they return. Except he won’t. Because Rebecca is still driving the narrative. She holds all the cards.

This is why it’s so important for Robert to be the one to tell Aaron the truth, on his own terms. For him to take back the control, because it’s the only way to take back his hope, too. Except it goes so much further even than that. Because from the moment of the reveal, Aaron takes control. He holds all the cards.

That is how this cycle comes full circle. How it ends as it began.

And this is what gives me hope for the progression of this storyline.

thresher shark by DorinMantoiu Only in Malapascua one can have an almost guaranteed sight. 4 years after the first encounter we returned, first day was a bummer, way too many divers (I might even say triple than 4 yrs ago), today we chose a slightly further away spot than where everyone goes, it came so close I had to zoom out from 35mm on full frame! :)

Yeah, natori cares for natsume a lot, but man do i still not trust him. Like it might just be because the manga has instilled distrust of natori in me already, but theres just something about the last scene in this episode that has me concerned.
Like, firstly, I dont like how natori basically follows natsume and then also destroys matobas letter. Thats a bit on the overprotective side, especially since it seems the letter was on the personal side for matoba, and not at all likely to be some sort of trap. On top of that, natsume will never find out about this at all.
I mean, yeah Matoba is more outwardly malicious, but natori lies to Natsume constantly. And often times, he lies because he doesnt think natsume meeds to k ow, or to be exposed to certain things. Its obvious he cares about natsume a ton, but i think that overprotectiveness and lying is going to be super harmful to natsume in the future, especially with the book of friends involved, and if youve read the manga (spoilers) how natori reacts to such a powerful item in natsumes possession. He even goes so far as to call it too dangerous, then retract and deflect that statement when it seems like natsume might have heard him.
I mean dont get me wrong, matoba is not a good person, especially in how aggressive he is about using people and furthering his agenda, but i think the path natori is taking right now has the potential to really hurt natsume far more than matoba ever could.

Best Friend Series; Seungkwan

- you and seungkwan have known each other since childhood
- you met him when you were seven years old so basically what happened was that one day you exited your school and realized that it was raining and you forgot to bring an umbrella
- you’re looking through your bag like please tell me i brought one PLEASE but obviously there’s nothing in there
- you remember leaving your umbrella at the door while putting your shoes on this morning and you’re just like GREAT I’M GOING TO BE SOAKING WET WHEN I GET HOME
- you take a deep breath and run into the rain and stop at a bus stop for shelter. you’re not that wet but you’re still a few minutes away from home you’re like ugh this is just the beginning
- then suddenly a shadow looms over you and you’re like what is this
- you look up to see a red umbrella over your head and you’re like ???
- you turn your head to see a cute boy with chubby cheeks who’s your age holding up the umbrella and he asks “do you need an umbrella??”
- you say “oh thank you ???”
- he says “my name is seungkwan!! we go to the same school. i saw you running in the rain and my mom said that if you go out in the rain without an umbrella you’re going to get sick so i thought i’d help you”
- you’re like who is this sweet boy he doesn’t even know you yet he goes out of his way to do this??
- he then says “which part of jeju do you live in?? if you’re in that direction we can share the umbrella while walking”
- you do live in that direction too so you both walk under the umbrella and seungkwan isn’t shy at all and talks about anything like seriously he tells you that he’s going to have jokbal for dinner because he loves jokbal, and he loves singing and the rain because it’s peaceful
- his house is a little further down than yours so he drops you home and you’re like “thank you seungkwan” and he just grins and waves bye bye
- and this happens every rainy day
- you didn’t check the weather and it rained that afternoon?? SEUNGKWAN TO THE RESCUE
- your dad accidentally took your umbrella?? DON’T WORRY SEUNGKWAN’S WAITING FOR YOU OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL
- it becomes a habit (and you purposely never bring your umbrella because you want to walk back with seungkwan under the same umbrella like always) but at some point you guys end up walking back together even when it’s not raining
- one day your mom looks out the window and sees you and seungkwan walking together and when you walk through the door your mom’s like “WHO’S THAT CUTE BOY YOU WERE WALKING WITH”
- you’re like “oh that’s seungkwan” and like the next day when seungkwan drops you home, your mom invites him for dinner and seungkwan’s mom somehow hears about this and invites you to dinner at their place too
- after this you guys become super close and by the end of elementary it’s been decided that you guys will be BEST FRIENDS FOREVER
- somewhere along the way you discovered seungkwan’s singing talent and you’re like “OMG SEUNGKWAN YOU’RE AMAZING YOU SOUND LIKE AN ANGEL”
- which gave him a lot of confidence and you’re always there to support him at school talent shows and singing competitions!!
- he’s too embarrassed to say “this song is dedicated to my best friend (name)” so instead he surprises you by singing your favorite songs and YOU KNOW it’s dedicated to you when he looks over at you and smiles during his song
- seungkwan’s the type of best friend who’s super touchy with you like there are always hugs, high-fives, hair ruffles, linked arms, piggybacks, cheek squishing
- people are constantly asking if you guys are dating and after hearing it so much seungkwan just goes like “yeah we are. isn’t (name) lucky to be dating someone as amazing as me?” and you just roll your eyes like stfu seungkwan
- you always throw surprise birthday parties for him and he cries because he’s so touched
- you two have a secret rooftop hideout you guys always go to where you guys get drunk on jokbal and milk tea
- he’s always over at your place and vice versa like sometimes he sees you around campus and bonks you over the head and says “i’m coming over” and you’re like “when do you not”
- his mom is always asking when you’re coming over so that she can make your favorite meal and your mom always asks the same thing about seungkwan
- you’re his go-to person so you always get random phone calls from him
- they’re useless calls sometimes like “oh nooo i’m out of milk pudding” “seungkwan i am not buying you milk pudding” “WHY NOT”
- but then other times it’s him just ranting to you and you roll your eyes like “what did hoshi do this time”
- you both have thousands of inside jokes and the trigger words are so common like for example, you’d both be talking to junhui when the word “orange” pops up in his sentence
- you and seungkwan immediately look at each other before falling to the floor and crying of laughter while junhui just looks at you both and rolls his eyes so far back only the whites of his eyes can be seen
- you guys always go grocery shopping together and buy all the snacks
- when you were both younger, you used to sit in the grocery cart while seungkwan pushed you around lmao
- he takes licks of your ice cream when you’re not looking
- flicks your forehead when you’re being dumb or freaking out for nothing
- girl group dances together!!!
- super blunt and straight-up because mom said it’s not good to lie
- “how do i look??” “NO DON’T WEAR THAT wear this instead it’ll really bring out your eyes”
- you and seungkwan perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on any food you both effed up while cooking
- he’s ready to beat up any guy that hurts you even if that means he’d get beat up too
- like once this jerk broke your heart and you slept over at seungkwan’s house and cried about it to him
- and the next morning you wake up and seungkwan walks through the door AND HE’S BLEEDING AND HIS KNUCKLES ARE BLOODY AND YOU’RE LIKE “SEUNGKWAN WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?”
- and he just goes like “ah don’t worry, just took care of something” with a smile on his face and you spend the rest of the day tending to his wounds
- but then the next day you understand what he meant when he said “just took care of something” when you see the jerk who broke your heart all beat up……… by bloody knuckles
- after this you treat seungkwan to your favorite restos and offer to be the one to buy the jokbal and milk tea for your next rooftop hangout
- “what are you doing all this for??” “i just felt like treating you today ok seungkwan no more questions”
- everything’s a competition with this boy
- we all know seungkwan HATES aegyo so you do lots of it just to annoy him and he just walks away from you with trembling clenched fists like eff you i’m going to look for a new best friend
- just
- seungkwan’s the most important person in your life because he knows you inside and out and he still loves you to the moon and back
- he’s always by your side wherever you go, there’s never one without the other, you guys probably even made a pact where if you’re both still single by 30 years old you’re just going to marry each other lmao
- (and his mom approves)

Man, they really wanted to hammer home the idea Mr. Schnee does not belong.






Notice how one of these things is not like the other? He’s the only one whose name doesn’t start with W. It’s also the only name that doesn’t come from a Germanic language. (Jacques is French and ultimately goes back to Hebrew. Weiss is German, Winter goes back to Old English and German, and possibly even further than that, Whitley seems to be English, and Willow comes from Old German or Dutch)

He’s also the only one who isn’t naturally white haired.

He went white over time.

Guess that means he married in.

I have to wonder if this is why Winter and Weiss both rather be huntresses. Since at the moment, Willow doesn’t seem to be too involved with the actual operation of the company, despite possibly being the daughter of its founder. Maybe they weren’t ever going to be in charge at all…

Especially since Whitley seems to be daddy’s favorite. (He’s the one on the desk)

thresher shark by DorinMantoiu Only in Malapascua one can have an almost guaranteed sight. 4 years after the first encounter we returned, first day was a bummer, way too many divers (I might even say triple than 4 yrs ago), today we chose a slightly further away spot than where everyone goes, it came so close I had to zoom out from 35mm on full frame! :)

Advocating for an all-POC “Les Misérables”

The more I think about it, the more I think the ideal modern retelling or modern dress musical production of Les Misérables would be an all-black or at least all-POC version, with only some of the minor-role oppressors (e.g. Bamatabois, the innkeepers who turn Valjean away, and any National Guardsmen we might see) portrayed as white. The relevance of highlighting modern racial issues goes without saying. But I’d like some new version to go even further than most modern AUs do or than the 2014 Dallas production did.

Everyone talks about how wonderful and relevant it was for the Dallas production to cast a POC actor as Valjean and a white Javert. True enough. But I’d like to see a version where they’re both POC. After all, Javert isn’t just a privileged oppressor. He’s “from the gutter too.” The novel specifically tells us that he sees himself as an outsider who can never belong to society, and that he chooses to defend society because his only other survival choice would be to prey on it. If we take the reference to “the race of bohemians from which he had sprung” literally, he might even be Romani in the novel. A POC Javert with internalized bigotry, who tries to protect himself from oppression by serving the system that oppresses him, feels truer to Hugo’s vision than a racist white Javert, even if he is less of a “ripped from the headlines” figure.

Then there’s Thénardier. Of course since he’s the story’s most evil character, the obvious temptation in a race-centric retelling is to make him white, like in the Dallas production did. But if he were a POC like our hypothetical Valjean and Javert, it would reinforce the idea that he’s (a) the perfect example of a miserable corrupted beyond redemption by his hard life, as Valjean could have been, and/or (b) a stereotypically dangerous lower-class criminal, showing that if a criminal like that were to really exist, the law would be no match for his ruthless opportunism, and that the system meant to punish “his kind” can only punish the Valjeans and Fantines of the world instead.

Then we have Enjolras. I remember how the Dallas production was praised for casting a white actor in the role, because it highlighted Enjolras’s status as a privileged person who could have lived a safe, comfortable life, but who chooses to fight and die for the sake of the less fortunate. There’s some truth in that, of course. But as this post reminds us, his status isn’t entirely that simple. Nearly everyone in 1830s France faced some degree oppression, not just the poor, and the Amis were fighting for their own freedom and rights as well as for others – which makes their courage and self-sacrifice no less heroic. So I’m all in favor of a POC Enjolras, especially a black one. His revolutionary spirit would feel especially valid, far removed from “pie-in-the-sky idealism,” and his death at the hands of authorities would gain even more biting socio-political relevance.

Last but not least, let’s discuss Marius and Cosette. Yes, we’ve all seen (or drawn) the modern AU fan art showing a WOC Éponine pining for a white Marius who only has eyes for an equally white, blonde Cosette. Yes, that imagery makes a relevant statement about race relations and beauty standards. But if we go beyond fan drawings and gifsets, that interpretation of the love triangle really does reduce Cosette! As I wrote in this surprisingly popular post, Cosette is much, much, much more than just “the privileged bourgeois girl who gets the boy at the poor outsider girl’s expense,” and to portray her as such would completely derail the story! Besides, portraying Cosette as a WOC takes us beyond “reflecting real-world racial struggles” and provides some happy representation too, showing dark-skinned girls that yes, they can also be the beautiful, sweet, beloved ingenue who embodies hope for the future! As for Marius… I understand the popular trend in AU fic of making him the token white guy in a sea of ethnic diversity; I see the appeal and relevance of making him a clueless, subconsciously bigoted white boy who needs to learn to check his white privilege. But I don’t think that’s absolutely necessary. I liked the fact that even though the Dallas production highlighted Marius’s privileged upbringing and classist streak more than the musical usually does, he was played by a black actor. It gave nuance to his situation, and more importantly, by not opting to make his dismissal of Éponine or his prejudice against Valjean about race as well as class, it didn’t ask us to forgive racism in the end. I know what a raw nerve redemption arcs for racist characters can touch, so I’m glad they avoided that, and I would too.

Casting directors of new musical productions, writers of new TV-movie versions (if the Andrew Davies miniseries is a success), and plain old fic writers, take note! An all-black, or at least all-POC modern Les Mis just might be the most powerful new Les Mis yet!

I dare you

(A/N): I love/ hate fics like this

Request: What about a NatashaxReader, where she has the biggest crush on you but you’re in a relationship. She doesn’t want to interfere or make things complicated but in doing so it makes her a bit depressed. But one day you come in with lots bruises and she finds out you’re in a abusive relationship. You tell her it’s fine despite some tears. So when your angry boyfriend comes marching in… Angry Nat takes over. Then you start dating her because you always had liked her:)

Warnings: abusive relationship, swearing, Nat is getting ready to rip someone’s dick off

Originally posted by cityofsourwolfrunners

    “Nat,” Clint snaps at the redhead, causing her to jolt upright in her chair, now fully brought to attention. “Why don’t you ask them out already, god I can barely stand all this eyefucking between the two of you,” Clint grumbles as he swallows down some of his coffee.

    He wasn’t wrong, Nat did have a tendency to…well, to eye fuck (Y/N). She couldn’t help it, not when she was damn sure she was in love with them. From their cute smile and twinkling eyes down to their kind spirit.

    Nat would most definitely ask (Y/N) out, she had the guts too, there was only teeny tiny problem; (Y/N) was already in a relationship. 

   Nat grumbles something unhappily as she slides down into her chair, grabbing her half eaten piece of toast and chomping down on it. Clint merely smirks, shaking his head a bit as he reaches over, taking the bread from Nat’s mouth and taking his own bite. 

   "I see the way they look at you, they totally want you too,“ Clint whispers as he eyes (Y/N) fondly, the latter sitting across from the duo as they listened to some story Wanda was telling. 

    “Yeah,” Nat replied bitterly, snatching up the bread again to take another bite. “Tell that to their boyfriend,” Clint shakes his head once again, smirking softly at the feisty assassin. 

   "They’ll come around,“ Clint murmured as he sipped away at his coffee, "They always do," 

   Nat prayed Clint had been right, that maybe (Y/N) would finally come around and realize just how much Nat loved them but as days ticked by Nat began to lose hope, then days ticked into weeks and weeks ticked into a month and yet (Y/N) remained steadfast in their relationship with their mysterious man. 

   As these weeks ticked by Nat began to find herself falling into a hole, a hole of sadness and despair, as silly as it sounded. It was just that she was so, so in love with (Y/N) and it seemed that they’d never love her back. The thought stung- it did more than sting really, it was the entire reason Nat had fallen Into this pit of depression and as far she could tell she wasn’t getting out anytime soon, or so she thought. 

   The universe had finally answered her prayer and just in time too.

     It hadn’t been planned, in fact had Nat not caught (Y/N) in this state she was sure this would have never happened.

    It had been a lousy day for Nat, as per usual, and after a sad, boring day of the same old thing she plopped down onto the couch to mindlessly watch TV. 

   It was late, perhaps around 2 when Nat heard the telltale sound of the elevator doors opening. Instinctually Nat reached for the gun that was taped beneath the table (it was put there should any occasion arise in which any of the avengers needed to use it) and within a moment it was cocked and loaded, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Nat aimed the gun, aiming directly for the elevators should any intruder appear behind those doors but Nat was almost pleasantly surprised to find that it was not an intruder but (Y/N). 

   Nat smiled as she lowered the gun, tossing it onto the table haphazardly. The smile was quickly wiped off her face though when she heard the quiet sniffles coming from the body exiting the elevator. Even in the darkness Nat could see them wiping at their eyes and suddenly wincing, retracting their hand suddenly, as though their touch had burned their eye.

    ”(Y/N)?“ Nat’s tone is incredulous as she takes a hesitant step towards them. (Y/N) tenses at Nat’s voice, their entire body going rigid in the dark light. ”(Y/N)? What’re you doing up?“ Nat reached over to turn on the lamp when (Y/N) interrupted her with a quick little shout of ‘no!’. 

    "I-I mean…” (Y/N) trailed off, their voice losing it’s conviction; this only worried Nat more. They were coming in at 2 in the morning, crying, and now they didn’t want Nat turning on the light? It smelled fishy to Nat and she didn’t like it. 

    “(Y/N), what’s going on? Why won’t-” Nat stops as (Y/N) sniffles once again, this time slightly louder. 

    “Nat just leave it be, please, I just want to go to bed,” (Y/N) took a few quick steps forward, apparently thinking Nat would just let them slip by her without any more questioning. In fact, They were just about to pass Nat when she reached out, grasping their forearm with the lightest grip she could manage. (Y/N) yelped loudly, scratching at Nat’s hand as more tears pool within their eyes. 

     "Na-at let go,“ (Y/N) is damn near sobbing, clawing at Nat until the shock of what happened causes her to let go. That wasn’t…that hadn’t been a normal response, Nat was barely touching them at best and her touches were sending them sobbing.

    A blossoming worry spreads throughout Nat and her heart plummets as she begins to connect the dots; the staying out late, the wincing, the excuse of no lights, and now this sobbing. Nat gulps as she reaches out once again, this time hesitantly brushing her fingers along (Y/N)’s cheekbone in the softest touch she could manage.

    "мой ангел, what happened to you?” (Y/N) nearly bucks up against Nat’s fingers, desperate for any form of loving touches but they refrain, gritting their teeth in restraint. 

   "Nat it’s-“

    "No (Y/N). Tell me,” there was no room for questioning, she was using her authoritative voice and no one ever, ever dared to argue back when she was using this tone. (Y/N) apparently caught the drift because they ended up sighing, relenting in their argument. 

   Their fingers flick out to graze the lamp and it suddenly flicker to life, illuminating the two bodies standing in the middle of the room. Immediately Nat’s eyes train in on (Y/N)’s swollen black eye, already so puffy that Nat could barely see their eye under all that skin. Then her eyes are drawn to the various bruises scattered across (Y/N)’s body, each a different shade of green and purple. 

    “Did he,” Nat grits her teeth as (Y/N) so helplessly begins to cry again. “Did he do this to you?”

    “Nat please, I don’t want any trouble, I-”

    “Answer the question (Y/N),” (Y/N) whimpers softly, quivering on the spot and goddamit Nat wants to murder anyone who ever laid a finger on her precious (Y/N). 

    “Yes…he did,”

    “I swear to god I’m going to rip his dick off!” Nat nearly charges past (Y/N) in a raging fury only to stop when (Y/N) jumped in her way, if anything crying even harder than before.

     "Nat please,“ (Y/N) nearly begs. "Please don’t,” (Y/N) clings to Nat as though their life depended on it, making sure she stayed exactly where she was. “Please don’t do this, it’ll only make things worse and-” (Y/N) hiccups slightly, their tears having caused these little breathing spasms. 

   Nat sighs a bit, her chest falling and shoulders slumping as she realized that no matter what (Y/N) was going to win this fight. 

   "Fine,“ Nat murmurs unhappily and (Y/N) nearly melts against her at her words, the tension visibly falling off of their body. "But we’re going to talk about this in the morning, understand?” (Y/N) nods against Nat, frantically shaking their head in a yes signal. “Good, now go get some sleep, god knows you need it-” Nat goes to let go of (Y/N) but they end up whimpering profusely, pushing up against Nat even further. 

    “Please don’t let me go,” their voice is no louder than a sad, broken whisper and it makes Nat’s heart physically ache. “Let me stay with you…please?” Nat licked her lips a bit, wetting her dry skin as a question lingers on her lips, a question she’s been dying to ask for ages. 

    “Forever? Will you stay with me…forever?” Nat’s voice is now a broken whisper too, matching (Y/N)’s tone perfectly. A small silence envelopes the two and Nat’s worried she’s fucked up, that she’s lost this small friendship she had with this great person and then- just as her worried are getting the better of her, (Y/N) leans their head against her chest, twisting it so they can press their lips against her collarbone. 

    “I like the sound of forever,”

anonymous asked:

more femkamui x nishiki please !!! thank you!

(Want to change the name? Use this!)

Being the man for beauty sleep that he was, Nishiki tended to retire earlier than most, including you. On normal days you thought it funny, especially in spring and summer where the sun was still peeking over the mountains.

But it was the brutal autumn nights like this one that you learned to appreciate his early-to-bed ritual. Unlike everyone else in the camp who had to suffer through the freezing cold, you had an advantage; a personal Nishiki bed-warmer.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold…!” Nishiki could hear you mumbling as you hurried up to their bedroom, your husband smirking at the sound. He nestled further into the cozy sheets, completely content while you rushed to salvage your body heat.

“A little chilly tonight, isn’t it?” He mused when the door burst open, blatantly mocking your frozen form. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know you were glaring at him, but it amused him none the less.

Keep reading