Suddenly realized I’ve stopped doing translation gifs for quite a while, it’s been 3-4 weeks since I last did gifs (mostly because I don’t find anything so interesting to gif yet). Aghh it’s such an important part of this blog! I should go back to it before I grow out of the habit >___<
But on the bright side, I’m on Chapter 7 of Aoi Hono 2. So my everyday is still filled with Yuzuru contents :3
And I need to get back on ice soon. My ribs still haven’t healed completely, but I haven’t been skating for almost 2 weeks (so glad traveling kept me busy for a whole week, else I’ll be super itchy to go to the rink).
I know you’re going to break me
and I know I seem like I’m okay
with that. The truth is I won’t
ever understand you completely
because with just a slight change
in the direction of the wind you’ll
be off on another path. Why would
anyone want to contain something
so vibrant and whimsical. I will ride
this gust with you as long as it takes
us and should the wind take you
away from me, just know I was the
happiest i’ve ever been with you.
just know that you were the first person
really see me in a very long
time. So when I fall back to
the ground I hope you know
that it was an honor to be broken
by you. And please don’t blame
yourself should you ever remember
me because I knew it was going
to happen and I loved you anyway.
A/N: Hello, yes, I’d like a dose of Dark Swan manipulating love to her advantage, thanks.
Touch me, baby, tainted love.
Everything is wrong.
The sparkle in her eye, the leather about her shoulders, the still air around them. He wants there to be chaos (he wants it to be like it was, really) her eyes should be as dark as her title, the wind dishevelling her hair, whipping the golden locks like the whipping of his heart. Killian’s heart beats with whip-cracks, each snap one snap too many. The slow, winding lashes of his pulse until the final crack and pound against its cage had once been a sign of hope – and of her – all wrapped up in gentle touches.
She somehow looks free, and light and that in itself adds a gravity to her presence, as contradictory and strange as it may sound. The harsh lines of her jaw and her cheeks once were soft beneath his worn hand, and now they shine in the dim, dim night stillness making her seem cold and cruel. They are harder than they should be, golden shade and rigid skin around the round of her eyes and their brows.
The curse has been cruel with her, so she is being cruel with it.
Cruel isn’t quite the right word, she looks like Emma – is Emma – and that in itself refutes the word, but – it’s wrong and the problem all at once. She only half looks callous, still looks - and is - far too much like Emma.