he’s shivering. he’s oddly aware of everything around him, of the fact that the air is touching him, of the clothes on his back, the bandage on his leg, trying to stop the bleeding from where the bottom half of his right leg used to be.
he can see things, out of the corner of his eye, but one thing really stands out. he reaches for the figure. “lenya, helene, my yelena-” anatole coughs, reaching out, reaching for the light green of the dress he can see. he thinks he can see.
“anatole, hush,” dolokhov murmurs softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “she’s not here, anatole, she’s not here. you’re burning up, you’ve a fever. hush.”
“my yelena- dolokhov, fedya, get my sister-”
“she’s not here, anatole,” dolokhov murmurs again, not trying to hide the tears falling from his eyes at that point, just trying to do anything he could to calm anatole. “anatole, hush, darling boy, hush-”
“fedya, i can see her!” anatole insists, arching in an attempt to reach the figure he knows he can see.
dolokhov doesn’t have the heart to remind him his sister is dead. dolokhov just holds him in his arms, hushing him and singing to him, as anatole loses strength, as he tries to fight at first and slowly drifts off.
dolokhov isn’t expecting it when anatole lets out a soft sigh in his sleep and then stops breathing.
dolokhov isn’t expecting to stare in stunned silence for a minute before he breaks down. he sobs, clutching anatole in his arms. the two people he ever truly loved, gone.
I’ve always wondered why there are wars. Why do people fight? Why do they hate?
I’ve asked my Capricorn and Leo friend about this. The Leo said: “Without a fight or debate, how would you know who’s better?” The Capricorn laughed and said: “Wars and fights are just there so the best can show that they’re the best!”
I was confused and asked my Cancer mom about the topic. She silently smiled and said: “Well, wars are unnecessary, but people do it because they aren’t fine with what they have and want more.”
But why do people want more? Why aren’t they happy with what the world has to offer?
My older sister has a short opinion on that. “Power. It’s all about power, sweetie.”
And that’s when I really got caught up in my thoughts. Why is happiness and peace so rare? Because people want money, power. They want everyone else to see that they deserve to be in this world.
But in my opinion, so do the poor, the powerless, the ones that don’t have a word to say in this debate of life.
My favorite band has a line in their song: “To battle is the only way we feel alive.”, but what if life is an only battle and we have no power left for peace? What is peace then? Why is it so difficult to have peace, but so easy to fight?
I just want to mention that I’m a pretty neutral shipper within Supergirl. Like, I enjoy the prospect of Supercorp and totally support it, but I also don’t mind Karolsen, Winnara and Karamel. I’d even go as far to say that I like those ships too.
I see so many arguments in favour of one specific ship or the other and honestly, I just don’t get it. Like, it’s fiction. What’s the point of getting all riled up just because someone else ships something else? Life is short, dude. Chemistry is chemistry and it can be seen in different ways by different people. I respect all ships even if i favour one more than the other because I know not everyone is the same. I’m not saying I ship it but I wouldn’t take the time to attack someone else’s pairing.
Yeah, some (a lot) of the things Mon-El did weren’t cool whatsoever but I think the entire point of his character was about how someone can change for the better and that’s kinda what he did. Or at least I think so. I’m not condoning the fact that he owned slaves or any other of his past behaviour but even I can see that he changed his ways and he did make Kara happy. That’s the important part. Kara was happy with Mon-El even all that they’ve been through.
Same goes for Supercorp. Lena makes Kara happy and Kara makes Lena happy. (She’s literally Lena’s only friend.) It’s not a crack ship and shippers aren’t ‘delusional’ for favouring the idea of Kara and Lena being something more than friends. Let them be, we’re all entitled to our own preferences, are we not?
So all in all, people should be entitled to ship as they wish! Like I said, life is too short and we should just enjoy the show while it lasts. People ship different things. No harm in that!
P.S. Actors are not the characters they play. So why bash them too? (Though what was said during SDCC is sorta understandable.)
El Mayarah. We’re stronger together, my peeps.
I’m curious about people’s opinions on this so feel free to spread yo’ thoughts!
Danatole and Sonyamary finding out about the other couple's secret relationship in canon era
“Dolokhov.” A voice Fedya never expects to hear again stops him in his tracks in Moscow, on the streets. He turns, faces Sonya Rostova, still as beautiful as ever. He regards her, looks at her, curious above all else. They had ignored one another in the past, deciding it was safer to not interact rather than try to handle the delicate business of societal demands of a failed proposal.
“Sofia.” Fedya says slowly, raising his eyebrows. Sonya hesitates before she grabs his hand and tugs him to the side, to speak to him in private. He listens to her proposition, and agrees softly, promises to speak to his lover before he makes a decision.
“Repeat that again.” Anatole turns, staring at Fedya with an incredulous look on his face.
“Marya Bolkonskaya is having an affair with Sonya Rostova.” Fedya says patiently. Anatole laughs, disbelieving, before turning back to the mirror, humming softly. “Why are we in Helene’s rooms, Anatole?”
“I’m using her things, hush. What did Rostova want?” Anatole picks up something off of Helene’s dresser before studying himself in the mirror. Fedya sits down on the neatly made bed and sighs a little.
“She wants me to marry her. To cover our affairs. It’s quite clever, really. I marry her. Princess Marya marries Nikolai Rostov, who, if I’m not mistake, is in love with the Tsar, and you are…. well, you. No one suspects a thing.”
Anatole sighs and turns to face Fedya. He stares at his lover before snickering. “Would you like some help with your eyeliner, Tolya?”
“Shut up. Yes.” Anatole mutters back, shaking his head a little.
“What’s that?” Mary rolls on the bed to look at Sonya curiously. Sonya smiles devilishly and jumps onto the bed, shifting to curl up to her lover.
“Letter from Fyodor Dolokhov.” She replies curtly, opening the wax seal- noticeably a Kuragin family crest- and reads over the letter before laughing. “He agreed, Masha.”
“To marry you?” Mary rolls again to read over Sonya’s shoulder, eyes widening. “That’s fantastic. And Nikolai will marry me, he’s agreed. We’re safe. This is all going according to plan.” Sonya smiles and kisses Mary, unable to stop herself. They’re safe. No one will hurt them.
“why did i agree to this?” marya’s question is pretty self-explanatory as she pulls up to the restaurant, side-eyeing her fiancee as she does. helene smiles at her, blows her a kiss, before sliding out of the car. marya sighs, follows along behind her.
anatole and fedya are already inside. marya’s given barely a second to realize that the two men clean up well before helene has their reservations and tugs the three of them along to their table.
fedya smiles, pulls anatole’s chair out, and steals a quick kiss before he sits. anatole grins a little, and hums happily, steals another kiss from his boyfriend before he settles down.
marya watches, almost curious. she’s never seen the two interact in private, and it’s almost adorable to watch, anatole subdued, and fedya caring for him and gentle in his touches.
helene settles, pressed almost against her, and smiles. marya has a feeling everything is going to go well. her worries soothed, she focuses her attention on her fiancee, orders their food for them, and smiles when anatole makes a terrible, albeit punny, joke.
like or reblog if you’re against a preemptive strike against North Korea, nuclear war, or the unnecessary loss of innocent human life. we have to make a point against this. our leaders must know that we do not approve.
Anatole can’t help but smile as he watches Fedya. Fedya, who is so put together normally, so peaceful in his sleep. Anatole props himself up on his elbow, watches Fedya as he sleeps, the lines melting from his face.
Fedya is beautiful, Anatole thinks, as he traces small shapes on Fedya’s front where his arm is resting, watches as Fedya shifts and stirs in his sleep before settling again, arm thrown out underneath Anatole’s head, where until minutes ago Anatole had been sleeping.
“Fedya,” Anatole finally whispers, poking at Fedya’s side. Fedya starts and stirs, blinking awake sleepily.
“Toly-” Fedya mumbles, blinking a little before he smiles a sleep-filled smile at the younger man, and Anatole is reminded again how utterly taken he is with the man next to him. How, if he could, he’d find a way to marry him in an instant. Anatole would make a wonderful wife, damn it.
“Good morning.” Anatole hums, shifting to steal a kiss from him. Fedya smiles again.
“Good morning, love,” Fedya murmurs back and just for a minute, Anatole can pretend everything is okay and peaceful and he is happy, truly happy.