where's the peace

anonymous asked:

Prompt — AU where Natasha helps take care of Pierre after his imprisonment. (Your writing is lovely by the way! I always look forward to reading more of it.)

you! are so kind! i’m. tears. 

**Note: this only kind of came out in a her taking care of him kind of way, I hope that’s okay!!!!!!!!


“he’s been found,” marya says, rushing from the door, a solemn look present in her usually kind eyes. 

natasha stands still for a moment, processing, and suddenly feels her legs begin to buckle, forcing her back into her seat. fear washes over her. 

“pierre…he’s…is he alive?” she asks, her voice plagued by the tremors pulsating throughout her entire body. marya smiles, kindness returning to her soft features. 

“he’s alive. dolokhov found him with a group of prisoners, he’s…” she trails off, searching for the words, and ultimately decides to charge forward in her message,”he’s quite ill natasha. he’s been through so much… he’s been asleep for two days now.”

two days,” natasha said, her voice weak and straining, her hand gripping at the armrest on her chair. marya’s features softened even more.

“let’s see if we can pay a call,” she offers, and taking natasha’s hand pulls her quickly through the front door, asking for her coach in the process. 

their journey is not long, but marya can see that any length of journey is too long for natasha. she is pallid and sweaty, her eyes darting from spot to spot throughout the carriage, her breathing shallow. marya takes natasha’s hand and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“he’s going to be alright, you know.” 

“i just…i have to see that for myself.”

when they arrive they are taken to the head of the staff of the house, Ivan, who is standing in the front hall. his hands are crossed sturdily over his stomach, his presence offering a feeling of great security. 

“Princess Bolkonskaya, Countess Rostova,” he greets them, his face stern and hinting only slightly at nervousness, “…Count Bezukhov has not awakened yet.” 

“i was almost sure of that,” she replied, her sweet tone drifting smoothly through the air, “i was hoping… could we do anything? is there anything we can help with?” 

“i don’t know that there’s anything you can do right now, but,” he said, glancing at natasha, “i’m sure your presences would be most welcome to him if he is to awaken. i’ll take you to his chambers.” 

marya holds tightly to natasha’s hand as they ascend the grand staircase, a gesture which natasha greatly appreciates. they stop outside of his door. 

“one moment, please,” Ivan says, and he steps inside the room. 

natasha’s breathing is still shallow, her face still incredibly pale, her eyes distant. she looks at marya, who’s resolve is strong and unwavering, and is confused by it. 

“how can you be so calm?” natasha asks. 

“because…” marya begins, her voice cracking only slightly, “i….i have to believe that…that after all that’s happened, after all of the terrible things, something good will come. that pierre…” she clears her throat, fighting the tears now brimming in her eyes, “he’ll be alright.” 

natasha took marya’s free hand and squeezed, and pulled her into a tight embrace. ivan opens the door. 

“You may come in,” he says, gesturing in toward the room.

the bed is at the center of the room, an ornate four poster with a red canopy, larger than the beds natasha had in her homes. she notices pierre, dwarfed by the size of the bed. she moves slowly toward him, and takes in everything she can see about him bit by bit.

his eyes are sunken, dark circles lay underneath them. his cheeks are somewhat bony but rosy, an indication of returning health. his hair is long, uneven but clean. he has a long, thick beard, small grey hairs peeking out at points. there were scratches and bumps, and he has lost some weight, but natasha notices that he overwhelmingly looks…just like himself. 

it is a relief, and yet she finds her cheeks are hot, and tears begin to stream. 

she takes a seat beside him. 

“i’ll be back in a moment,” marya says, and she gives a half smile before leaving the room. 

natasha reaches cautiously, and takes pierres hand in hers, interlacing her fingers with his. she places a gentle, wet kiss on the back of his hand and holds tightly to it. 

“pierre,” she says, pushing his hair back, “oh pierre, what’s happened to you?”

she leans forward, holding his hand to her forehead, and weeps, filled with conflicting relief and anxiety, and her head begins to ache. 

“natasha…” she hears a faint voice. her eyes dart up to see pierre’s flutter open for a moment, to see a gentle smile cross his face, and for them to drift closed again, back into unconciousness. 

“i’m here. i’m here. i’m not leaving. not right now.” 

she feels a gentle squeeze on her hand, and smiles. 

anonymous asked:

what is happiness

Happiness is whatever you make it to be. Sure there’s a dictionary definition and “socially accepted” things and ideas that will typically bring a person joy (money, love, a good job, etc.), but that still doesn’t define what makes you in particular happy. It’s an abstract concept that we’re always striving for, but we seem to always come up short. I don’t think anyone can truly feel complete happiness unless they’re lying to you because life doesn’t work like that, unfortunately. That doesn’t mean, however, there aren’t blissful moments that can take our minds off the negative aspects. We just have to keep pushing forward to reach those moments where we can feel at peace if even for a minute. That’s just my philosophy, anyway.

concept playlists;

you’re lying on mossy forest floors, slowly transforming into a nymph, your fingers are turning into flower vines, your limbs are bleeding honey & growing thick skins of sepia bark, wings sprout in between your shoulder blades. your breath sounds like the wind. fireflies litter the air above you

you’re hold up in an abandoned church, outside there’s a raging storm & a horde of zombies roaming around, pressing up against the entrance doors. you & a small band of survivors are staying inside for the night in hopes to ride the bad weather out. you take first watch & listen to these tunes on an old ipod while everyone else tries to get some rest & the undead crawl outside, awaiting the taste of human flesh.

you’re in your boyfriend’s pickup. he’s asleep in the passenger seat, you’re driving without a destination in mind & you have the window down as you let the cool night air whip against your face in a state of pleasant delirium

you’re on a rooftop somewhere, there’s 5 am air on your skin, streetlights glint like coins at the bottom of wishing wells from where you sit. you’re feeling peaceful for the first time all week

you’re lying in the middle of a crop circle forty miles from your grandma’s old house waiting for aliens to come and abduct you

it’s four pm in the afternoon and you’ve got your head in the lap of the only boy you’ve ever loved & you’re reading jane eyre & he’s sipping on tea & it’s the kind of weather where it’s just warm enough for you to pretend it’s summer & it’s drizzling & you’re listening to the rain beat softly against the windowpanes

you’re curled up in bed as it pours outside, there’s a citywide blackout and the last candle you had left has finally blown out, but you feel strangely at peace within the warm, all-consuming dark

you’re making out in the bathroom of a house party with someone that makes you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun

you’re standing amidst a city you burned to the ground. the apocalypse has come & gone. all that’s left is ashes & mortar & sad bones but you’re feeling empowered. a slow smile creeps up your lips as you realize how you’ve always wanted to watch the world burn

you wander into wonderland and now you’re suddenly being crowned fairie queen, apparently there’s a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled 

it’s mid morning but it’s dark outside from the rain. you thought the tapping on the window was from the rain but it’s actually a crow that flickers out of sight when you look directly at it

you’re sipping on cherry cola by the pool on a lazy sunday & you’re feeling younger than you’ve ever been

you’re summoning old ghosts in an abandoned parking lot on a smoggy thursday night

Do not take, share or search for photos of BTS wherever they are.

Please, let them enjoy this small break they have. Do not let Bon Voyage happen again.

If you see photos - do not share them. If you see the members - do not share their location, take their photo or follow them.

Please. Do not be a part of the reason as to why they feel they always have to stay in their hotel.

If they wanted to share their location with the fan base, they would have. Right now, I do not feel they want this information to be known. Thus, whatever the reasons are, I feel we can respect that.

Some small details in ch132
  • “Professor Hugues”



  • “Vicar Rathbone”



  • “Sam the shepherd”



  • “Fenian Cycle”




Sam the shepherd is most probably this old guy from ch63 and ch120

and his “grand-daughter” Rathbone mentioned in ch132 is probably this little girl from ch120 :)

(This month’s flashback happened 5-6 years ago, and this girl looks like 5-6yo, so she would definitely fit age-wise!)

When the “Symbol of Peace” is a Warrior

Remember that time Gandhi punched a man into the stratosphere? Or when Nelson Mandela dropped the atom bomb? While such events might make for a good game of Civilization VI, the societal and cultural implications would be rather bleak.

That’s the world of Boku no Hero Academia. A world where peace is assured, not by treaties and accords, but by the threat of overwhelming force. The threat of All Might bearing down upon you with all his might.

The surface level problem with this arrangement is not so much an issue for the majority of law-abiding citizens. At least, it wouldn’t be if not for the way this society pushes people toward villainy (which I wrote about here).

The deeper issue here, is the idolization of violence.

Pictured above are 4 of the top 10 ranked heroes in Japan. There are 2 others, but they don’t support my claim, and the remaining 4 are unknown.

All Might - OFA: punches so hard the sheer pressure changes the weather
Endeavour - Hell Flame: kills it with fire
Ryukyu - Dragon Form: claws, fangs, probably eats livestock whole
Edgeshot - Foldabody: makes body thin as a razor, punches at speed of sound

Ignore the Shigarakis and All For Ones of the world, they are few and far between. Consider the more innocuous criminal, like a shoplifter. What strategies would any of these heroes employ in that case? Step 1, offer chance to surrender. Step 2, murder? These heroes do not have a non-lethal option.

And that’s a real problem. Not just for these heroes, but for the society that elevated them to the top 10, rankings which account for popularity more than anything else. 

Every child dreams of being All Might. Everyone looks up to this incredible powerhouse. The term “Hero” was meant to mean “one who saves others,” but has twisted to mean only “one who fights villains.” This perverse understanding of what makes a hero pervades society at an institutional level.

Take it from Aizawa, the UA entrance exam is illogical and harmful, stemming from society’s fascination with brute strength. To get in to the UA Hero course, you need a combat-capable quirk. This system precludes people like Shinso or Aizawa from gaining admission, people who posses some of the greatest and most useful quirks any hero could ask for.

But the exam never asks, “What’s your true potential?” It begs but two simple questions, “How many villains can you beat up? How many people can you save (from villains)?” And the results end up looking like this:

That’s right, Lord Explosion Murder is the star of this year’s class. Bakugou’s quirk and personality are only useful for trying to kill things. Maybe he just needs a better role model. Who does he look up to? Oh, right, it’s All Might.

All Might is a defacto demi-god of this world. Outside of villainous circles, you won’t find anyone who doesn’t idolize him. But what good is that idolization? If someone like Bakugou genuinely believes himself to be following in All Might’s footsteps. 

Well, maybe this is an isolated problem. All Might is UA’s celebrity alumni, of course they’ll try to keep up that image. But the other hero schools can’t all be like that, and the hero licensing program is bound to be–

Oh, nope. It’s all violence, all the time. Neat.

Granted, the provisional license exam does have a rescue phase, but almost everyone passed that. The part intended to cull 95% of the applicants is combat-based. Are there even enough villains in the world to justify being this focused on combat?

As tragic as it is, the elevation of violent heroes is only half the problem,

Because this is a zero-sum scenario: if brutality rises to the top, then utility is pushed to the bottom. 

Non-violent heroes simply do not have a clear path to success. I’m using Shinso as an example again, because there are so few like him that manage to rise to the point of being mentioned in the story. The realm of heroism is all but institutionally sealed off for them. 

Society wants heroes who fight villains. That is what their purpose has become. And anyone who can’t conform to that mold gets pushed out. Maybe Stain was on to something; heroes have deviated from their original purpose, they now exist only for the spectacle of the fight.

All Might’s position as the Symbol of Peace does not extol heroism, but rather violence in heroism’s name.