#there's several posts that go around here that will say things we would all recognise as misogynistic af if said abt a cis woman just saying

[cruelsister-moved2]

so many peoples allyship to trans women is just 99% calling them beautiful and then only supporting them when you find them attractive like you people are MISOGYNISTS anyway shout out to trans women who look average as hell and are just some girl

[nutcasewithaknife]

Ooh, I’d love to hear about MLC on ice!!!

And I would love to talk about it. forever and ever. You might have unleashed a beast.

The premise of this one has changed way too much to be a Yuri!!! on Ice AU anymore, so it's just an ice skating AU now. The basic premise is this: Fang Duobing, young ice skater who can't quite seem to find the right coach for himself and is coming off several unsatisfactory seasons, goes off to an obscure little town with a rink with no plans. There he latches on to Li Lianhua and soon recognises him as Li Xiangyi, who quietly retired and then vanished off the face of the earth 7 years ago after a terrible injury. The only course of action is, of course, to badger Li Lianhua into being his coach! Especially when Di Feisheng declares that the upcoming season is going to be his final one!

This is just like the first chapter or two of the fic, things go off the rails quite soon. There's the series of suspicious events 7 years ago that caused dfs, lxy and sgd to leave the season, the lingering effects of Li Lianhua's injury that limit his skating abilities severely, Di Feisheng who is determined to hunt him down and skate against him anyways, Qiao Wanmian (the first one to find Li Lianhua again in this AU) who tags along for the chaos and agrees to be Fang Duobing's official coach to keep Li Lianhua's identity a secret, so on. It swings wildly between crack and heartfelt emotional moments, domestic shenanigans and skating drama. Like I mentioned, I'm writing this with @istgidek1234 who is the real hardcore Yuri!!! on Ice stan and skating expert in this relationship. I went into a bit of a rabbit hole with ice skating a few months back, and it merged with the MLC hyperfixation we both were having, and this happened.

Tagging @istgidek1234 so she can ramble on a bit more about this au!! And here's a little bit of the chaos from one of my segments:

Li Lianhua was, overall, in good spirits on the evening the doorbell rang, just as they settled in for dinner after winding down post-practice. Then he opened the door, and said spirits went flying off with his peace of mind in tow.  He really needed to get a peephole put in. Di Feisheng scowled at him with the force of a… well, a Di Feisheng. Li Lianhua knew better than to try and shut the door on his face; he valued the fact that his door was securely hinged to it’s frame. “How did you–” There was no point in asking how Di Feisheng had stalked them back home. Of course he had. Li Lianhua had been a fool lulled into a sense of false security by his own complacency.  Panicked, he poked his head out and looked around, just to make sure. “Are you trying to get the world’s entire skating press here?” he hissed at him. Di Feisheng looked at him like he was a bug. “No one knows I’m here. I took care.” He better mean something more concrete and foolproof than the shades and mask sticking out of his pockets.  “What do you want now?” Li Lianhua asked flatly, resigned to his fate. “My head on a pike?” He was going to kill Fang Duobing for dragging him back into this world, and then Di Feisheng for hounding him immediately. He was going to flee the country with nothing but Hulijing.  That train of thought slowed to a halt as he noticed that Di Feisheng was… was he hesitating? No, he never did. If he’d shown up here, that meant he’d made his mind up about whatever it was already. He was taking his time though, fixing Li Lianhua with a look that was his usual stubborn battle-face, but more intense than ever.  And then he spoke. “Skate with me, Li Xiangyi.” Li Lianhua blinked, slowly, then a few times rapidly. “Pardon?” Di Feisheng’s jaw clenched tighter. Li Lianhua’s own hurt from just looking. “Skate a pairs program with me.” “A what!?” came the shout from behind. Li Lianhua shut his eyes and prayed for strength as Fang Duobing stormed up to the door, then pushed right past him, all the way out. “Di Feisheng!? What is he doing here? What did he just say??”

[newartistgirl]

Lu little details (2)

  Following the last post I made, which, to be honest, hadn’t thought would be read as much as it has been (given the fact that the last update was some time ago I was not expecting to see that much people reading about linkeduniverse), here I bring more little details that always manage to surprise me, and show the thought behind.

1. Legend is, in fact, reading an actual in-game quote from Mipha’s diary. I know maybe this one is not shocking but it’s always appreciated. 

2. The variety of items they use. It’s not just reduced to the most obvious ones, their sword, shield, and bow (being recognisable and distinguishible the designs of each. There you go, more and more details). We also can see items, such as the hookshot, the clawshot, the whip, fire, ice and dominion rods, or even the stasis of the skeikah slate. And some others but not being used, like the rest of items Legend hoards.

3. Does Legend asking Four what he thinks about upgrading the master sword count as a reference to games detail or personalities/opinion detail? However, there it is. While Legend has in fact done that, Four seems somewhat averse to the use of magic swords.

4. An obvious reference to Breath of the Wild is Wild breaking his swords several times. Another detail that may be a little less obvious, not because it’s hard to get but because it may get forgotten, is Wild saying “I’m just glad this wasn’t my good shield”. As we know, Wild probably has a wide range of weapons, and I find really close to my BotW experience the not using the “good shield” case except for accounted occasions. In fact, we never see him using any of the highest damage weapons in his game. Probably this is because he won’t have them in the comic.

5. Just like the Links, all monsters are mixed. Regardless of the Hyrule ore time period thay are in monsters from all games have been showing. I think it’s more than on purpose the fact that after Wind recieves his mail monsters from the Great Sea show up. Like, Time says it. So no, not a big reveal but...

6. Usually little posts not focused on the storyline, due to their purpose, have a huge amount of references, usually shown in a rather comical way. From Legend and the floor tiles, Four frustrated cause no one knows who Vaati is, Time advising Hyrule not to drink from the well, to Malon and the aliens or that impossibly endless magic bag our hero carries around. I  love every single one of these.

7. Twilight thinks of Midna several times. I’m not just talking about when he literaly refers to a princess beatuiful as the setting sun who shatterd his heart into a million pieces, but also when he looks at his shadow in a rather nostalgic way, which, of course, it’s not a common thing to do.

8. Four and that combat againts the octorok. I personally suffered that battle just like he describes it. And I ought to remark Legend’s snarky comment because, even as a short person, found it funny. (I’m gonna end up having to make a post for each Link cause I could also add a lot about this two but about more subjective matters)

9. Wild uses the ladle Sky carved him. And the fact that Sky actually carves is like one of the nicest character details as a reference to the game so far. It’s easy to skip that detail in the game itself so props for adding that.

10. Time loves to quote, and this time, he is quoting his future self. I the comic, when he finishes a fight along Wind, he tells him: “In every battle, you have a little more of the look of a hero” which is oddly similar to what he says to his descendant in Twilight Princess: “You have a little more of the look of a hero than you did before”. Not complaining. Any reference to the Hero’s Shade makes me happier. 

11. All that conversation between Twilight and the veteran turned into a bunny is full of references to their games that, obviously, happen to be past events in the heroe’s lifes that may or may not have had a big impact on them.

12. Sky being the one to run out of breath. If you have played Skyward Sword you know about the stamina wheel which, ulinke in BotW, can’t be upgraded.

13. Bellum and Vaati references are more than “references”. I frankly doubt someone missed those. However, theres a more sublte reference Four makes while talking to the Rancher. In this scene he talks about Dark Mirrors, this being a reference to his adventures, which Twilight inevitably connects to “his” mirror. (Love also that scene. Easily one of my favourite duos)

I probably have skipped a lot more cause the comic is full of them. I hoped you liked this. If while reading I notice more I make another part, but for now this is what I have. Happy new year btw!!

(I apologise in advance for any spelling mistake. i’m not a native speaker)

[alfgifu]

Fic analysis 16. In cahoots

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48946120

Word count: 6,025

Chapters: 1

First posted: 29th July 2023 

Summary: 

His tone was light on the offer itself, despite the sturdiness of his declaration of identity. She could refuse him with no embarrassment to either of them, turning this into a joke that they could laugh over with Basil later in the evening - but - but - those steady brown eyes were serious.

“A marriage of convenience?” she said, equally lightly, “how gallant, sirrah.”

How and why this came about

As it became clear that the prompt challenges were going to stick around for a bit I came up with a cunning plan, which was that I would use the quite specific prompt in this one to kick off an AU which I could then populate from different perspectives in following weeks.

The fake marriage prompts were themselves inspired by discord conversations about the timelines and feasibility of Kip meeting Jullanar when visiting Basil - and of course by Kip’s acknowledged childhood ambition to marry Jullanar of the Sea. Several people were working on the idea at the time and there are multiple cakes available on this one, all of them delicious. I’m a particular fan of mantrasong’s Caught Between a Spark and Lightning which started as a flash fic for this challenge but was later revisited and rewritten into a much longer fic.

The loose end game I was working towards here was a Kip/Jullanar marriage of convenience that bloomed into a deep friendship (without sex) and a recognised Kip/Fitzroy fanoa relationship. The only plan I had beyond that was to explore different moments as they worked with the theme of the prompt challenges, and see where it took me.

What worked and what didn’t

As I was posting new stories much more frequently I was still finding tags, titles, and summaries felt like an unwelcome chore. Around this time I realised with a sigh of relief that I could use quotes from the fics themselves as summary text. That worked better in some cases than others, but here it’s fine.

‘Kip Thistlethwaite’ as a name is as fun to say as the scenario is to imagine, which was a definite plus.

The subject of Jullanar’s marriage is lightly touched on in the books but the small snapshots we get of it are ambiguously grim; she finds her husband physically attractive (but only to a point) and morally repulsive. She’s trapped into it by blackmail and makes the best of it but it is in many ways a parallel to Fitzroy’s situation - imprisoned by force and trapped in stifling conventional restrictions, unable to own herself by her true name, afraid of hurting those around her if she reveals too much of herself. It was deeply satisfying to find such a neat way of circumventing it presented by the structure of the narrative.

It was fun imagining young!Kip from an outside perspective and writing a group of friends bantering with one another. Also thinking through how Kip’s training as a tanà might make it easier for him to strike the right tone in this kind of conversation: listening without judgement, leaving space, making practical suggestions with a layer of humour and plausible deniability that offer Jullanar many different ways to back out. I wanted it to be believable that she might agree to the scheme having only just met him and I feel like that worked out well.

What I learned from writing it

One of the things I was experimenting with was writing more from different points of view. When I started Embers the only way I could feel comfortable writing Cliopher’s perspective was by adding a big chunk of backstory at the start so that I could follow the emotional thread driving him all the way through. Here the short format forced me to jump into the action with Jullanar; I didn’t manage to avoid some scene-setting entirely but I kept it minimal and was pleased with how that worked (I know on some level that people reading fanfic are for the most part unlikely to be unfamiliar with the characters, but it hasn’t really sunk in - I still feel the urge to explain context and personality and setting at the start of every story).

I worked hard at getting the emotional beats to land correctly, because I’d begun to see how much that would carry the reader into and through a scenario even when it was unfamiliar/unexpected.

I was also beginning to learn that I got better results when I followed my interest than when I planned in advance, and was adapting my strategy for that fact by making this a self-contained story that left the door open for more but didn’t require it. I’ve never quite managed to get on that footing with everything but it was a good discovery and I’ve used it several times since.

[paintedpeeta]

I shall begin here, because it is on my mind: what things do we think Katniss notices or what things do we think Peeta says to her that make her go "oh it's not just me projecting how much of a great dad he'd be; he actually wants children so badly" post war?

okay so i want to start this by saying that no matter what it is that gives her these revelations, she is absolutely the last person to work it out. everyone else around them knows that peeta is desperate to be a father, but because it’s something he never presses, it takes her a while to catch up.

(also, katniss herself has the revelation that peeta would be a great dad many years before. on the quell beach, or perhaps before that but subconsciously, because on the quell beach when she recognises that peeta is the one who should have the chance to become a parent it doesn’t seem like much of a revelation at all - more like something that she just instinctively feels and chooses to share with us in that moment because it’s a pressing issue. in katniss’ mind, children are a gift. something precious. something that the risk of losing is so catastrophic that it would be better to never have them at all. but still, she feels like it’s something peeta deserves… to have a world where his child could be safe.)

and i think that peeta would be pretty subtle about it at first. like i said, i simply can’t imagine that it’s something he presses for - and so i think you’re entirely right in thinking that it would be up to katniss to put the pieces together and realise how badly he wants to have children, from his actions and his words.

from his actions, it would be easy to assume that he’s just behaving in his usual good-natured way. when he interacts with the littlest customers who come to the bakery, patiently helping them as they hand over the note that contains their mother’s order. the way he stands at the door to make sure they cross the road out front safely, carrying their neatly packed order - finished with a free treat - in a paper bag. how soft his voice becomes when he gets to hold their friends sleeping babies, the way he faithfully adds every photo sent to them of finnick and annie’s son to their family memory book, how gentle he talks to him down the phone whenever annie calls for a catch up. i like to imagine that they both take up fairly active roles in their community, helping out at the community home by fundraising but also volunteering, spending time with the children and helping to teach them life skills and fun activities. the younger children love it when katniss reads to them, and peeta hangs up the finger paintings and drawings that they make him in their home.

however, it’s his words that make her really catch on. it’s a rare thing to ever hear peeta speak badly about someone, but if he ever felt like someone was mistreating their child then he would have several things to say about it. one night he’s particularly riled up, perhaps he was at the market and someone berated their kid infront of him, and while he rants about it something slips out along the lines of “I would never speak to my child that way”. and while katniss has been sympathetically listening to his tangent, that makes her pause. it could be as subtle as that, but it makes her realise that he has very clearly thought about what kind of father he would be - and so, has thought about having a child.

and that would be enough for it to click with her, but of course it would take a lot more upfront and candid conversations on the topic before anything was decided. i’m firmly opposed to the view that the 5, 10, 15 years katniss describes in the epilogue are 15 years of peeta trying to grind her down into having children. it’s 15 years of her noticing all of these subtle moments, gradually feeling safer, gradually accepting that her wishes as she fell asleep on the quell beach have become somewhat true…

[skye-huntress]

Life is Strange: Double Exposure - My thoughts so far

With the livestream reveal over and I’ve had time to digest all the information, I’m ready to dive in.

First of all, the original Life is Strange, and Max Caulfield in particular, are both very important and precious to me. There has never been a protagonist I have related to more than Max and I was very invested in her journey and her relationship with Chloe. With that said, I am very intrigued with what Deck Nine has come up with for this new chapter in her life, now that she has grown up from an awkward, quirky teenager into an awkward, quirky adult, like me. For the record, I was indeed one of those people who recognised Max immediately in the trailer, and I’m just as baffled by all the people claiming it looks nothing like her.

Now, let’s address the blue haired elephant in the room. The livestream confirmed exactly what I assumed, the game will respect both endings by asking players to confirm their choices from the original game. I’ve seen a lot of people have a meltdown over seeing a small part of a conversation out of context, however it is too early to freak out or make assumptions until we’ve seen the whole thing and how it will work. I’ve preordered the Ultimate Edition, so when I get the first two chapters early, I’ll do a spoiler-free post going over how this will work, and I probably won’t be the only one providing this service to the community.

With that said, even if they are still dating, it doesn’t mean that Max and Chloe have to be attached at the hip. There are a number of plausible reasons why they would spend some time apart physically, even for months at a time. If this were the first few years after the storm, I would say it is unusual to be separated for too long, but it has been about a decade, long enough for them to calm their paranoia a little.

In saying that, if they are still together, it might actually be a good thing that Chloe isn’t around for Max’s latest escapade. Firstly, Chloe has died or almost died enough times to traumatise Max for several lifetimes, so Max wouldn’t want her girlfriend/wife anywhere near another murderer. Secondly, and this is one of the first things that came to my mind, consider the implications of how Max’s new power works. The livestream even confirmed one thing I was concerned about, that Max will be interacting with two different versions of most of the people she meets. How do you think Max would cope having to manage her relationship with two versions of her girlfriend/wife, and also trying to make sure both versions are safe? Not to mention, when this is all over, I assume Max will be stuck in one timeline, and we don’t really know how that will work. Which version of Chloe will she be stuck with and what happens to the other one? Does she get her own version of Max? No no no! If I were Max, I’d already know what I’d do. I’d make sure Chloe stayed as far away from Caledon as possible for the time being, until this nonsense is resolved, for her safety and my sanity.

With all that out of the way, I think it is very interesting to have an older Max as the protagonist this time around. She has experience with both the supernatural and mysteries that a newer protagonist normally lacks, but also trauma as well. Judging by the gameplay we saw, that trauma worked against Max causing her to behave strangely and hear things that may or may not have happened in real time. I’m also of the theory that her power may be reacting to someone or something else, and that it is no coincidence Max’s past started to haunt her leading up to Safi’s death. This mystery certainly seems a lot more complicated and intriguing compared to the others, and out of all the other protagonists in this series, Max is perhaps uniquely suited to solving this one.

Here’s my plan. As I said, I’ve preordered the Ultimate Edition, so I’ll have early access to the first two chapters. I can’t say what my schedule will look like but after my first blind playthrough, the first thing I’ll look into and play around with is the part you confirm Max’s past choices with Safi and how the affects everything. Then I’ll do post here where I’ll avoid spoilers as much as possible. Then afterwards, I’ll probably do what I do with the original game and Before the Storm where I write about the choices I made and rational behind them. These will be marked by a spoiler tag, plus the “lis choices” tag I used in the past. I intended to do this with True Colors as well but never got around to it. Might be a good way to kill time since we’ve got four months of waiting. Plus, I can’t not replay the first two games.

To sum up, be prepared for me to not shut up about Life is Strange for the next few months.

[fireangelsstuff-inactive-2024]

Hello anon,

I'm going to bang out the first part of this one before I start for the day but to do that I have to address some info surrounding New Year's 2021-22

During the first six months of last year a timeline was established around when the first time Christopher and fishstick could have possibly met for the first time given COVID rules surrounding filming and entering foreign countries, filming reshoots in December in LA

That timeline deemed either they met in the middle of 2021 during filming of The Gray Man in Paris around the time he first followed her and later liked her quarantine post (Let's face it the man hasn't always respected COVID rules even during filming if the Tiktokers video is anything to go by) or during the trip to Las Vegas

Either is as possible as the other and could possibly explain WHY he even followed someone so RANDOM, however I will admit he followed several different women on IG around that point in time so they all very well could have been selections for a possible PR situation and seeing what would take the most with gossip/fan sites before making a selection, the trolling/attention seeking from fishstick etc helped somewhat ensure it did actually happen wth the photoshopped collage set-up etc but I'll leave other to make up their minds on that

Do take note of the fact I don't deem New Year's as a possibility, there's several good reasons for that

After the trolling of the LSA threads by fishstick etc uncovered then being at a house in Vermont (much later determined by Maddy etc to belong to Chris) there was "a reaction" from both Aly Raisman and Georgia Ellenwood, they went back and unliked all of his posts they had previously double tapped

Aly, according to her own IG posts/stories went to Loon mountain with friends, we don't see any evidence of Christopher being there, but she does react after the "Vegas Discovery", in my opinion one of her friends must have been watching the threads and recognised the Vermont house and then saw fishstick etc hanging out with his brother and bestie in Vegas, which to me says she was told something else about where he spent New year's

Around this time a font dropped in with the info that he was dating Aly (the Cara Zepp/Jer from UTA episode)

Georgia on the other hand spent her New year's eve with friends in LA, was on the list to some party at the hotel she stayed at (Chris was not on this list) there were videos from inside a car, at the restaurant etc and still no evidence of Chris anywhere to be seen. After the "Vegas Discovery" on the threads she too went back and unliked the posts she had done previously......

I do genuinely wonder if they ever talked

Here's the thing, I don't think Chris actually spent New year's with anyone but his own family at home

There was a fairly reliable source on this but apparently COVID was going through the Evans household over New Years, a source I can reliably link back to his inner circle

Remember how tired he looked in both the ASP video and the photo outside Nobu LV, I've only recently had COVID for the first and only time since the start of the pandemic and that shit is rough

My overall point being I personally think he was at home sick with COVID over New Year's and didn't actually spend time with ANY of them during that time.

💜🪽🌟

[sometipsygnostalgic]

hi! in re to your post about your diagnosis, do you mind saying a tiny bit abt the process? im asking bc i have thought RLLY hard over the past few months on the possibility that i may be autistic- like, a lot of things ive wondered about myself would make more sense if i was and the idea of that has brought some peace to me. but i have NO idea how to go abt the process of talking with a mental health professional abt it and/or getting a diagnosis. i totally understand if you don’t want to share abt your process at all and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable with this question, so please feel free to ignore it. but if you are willing to share like the first step that you took in the process, i would rlly appreciate it! im just confused rn. anyway, i hope you’re having a good day/week/month lol :^)

hi anon!

I live in the United Kingdom, there are two options here, you can ask for a referral from the NHS, or you can self-refer privately which will cost £2000 for an assessment...

so what I did for my autism assessment is go to my doctors surgery, and explain to a doctor that I suspected I was autistic. I gave my reasons why - difficulty at school, difficulty with crowds, I talk really bluntly, sometimes i can become very anxious very fast - and the doctor recognised there were enough symptoms for a referral.

the autism referral centre eventually sent me a series of questionnaires, some were for me, some were for my father or for some other person who has known me since i was a child (i dont know what you're supposed to do if you have nobody).

i didnt' like the questionnaires because they were confusing, you have to give relative answers for what you think your own behaviour is, some things i would have problems with relative to friends but not relative to people with severe learning difficulties (like my cousin who is also autistic and is 8 but cannot speak more than a few words), so i wasnt sure what exactly i was meant to answer with there.

i procrastinated for like 5 months on submitting those forms (it was hell). then they decided i sounded autistic enough for a proper assessment and put me on a waiting list.

when it came time for the actual assessment which took place 15 months later, I was referred by the NHS to a third party because of the backlog, so it was all done remotely rather than me going to a centre.

my father and i were given more questionnaires (which were bugged, make sure that any online forms you're sent don't delete your answers in one column when you're filling in another column). my dad's questionnaire was MASSIVE and went really into my early childhood, asking whether i had brain injuries or stuff like that. the idea is they want to rule out the possibility of misdiagnosis, whether my autistic traits are a result of something else.

i was given a questionnaire too and i found it somewhat confusing, they asked me how i would feel if i got a positive/negative result on the diagnosis. i thought this was to catch me out. it's probably to make sure people aren't going to kill themselves if they're told they're autistic or not autistic, but i think the questions were weird anyway. i answered as much of the other questions as i could in relation to autism.

when it came to an actual assessment, i was asked questions for an hour and a half over camera, largely about my own emotional responses to things. i was also asked to help narrate a visual storybook, and to tell stories with inanimate objects. it was part of the adult assessment, and again it was to rule out other conditions, rather than to indicate whether i was autistic, because lets just say that i am very good at making stories up on the spot.

my dad meanwhile was interviewed for 3 hours about my childhood. when i was done with my assessment i joined him for that questioning and filled in the blanks, because my dad wasn't actually around for a large part of my childhood.

a few hours later we had the diagnostic call and they told me i was autistic and that they will send a report (still waiting) with information on this and also on post-diagnostic support services in my area, which i think is going to be very useful.

[smurphygames]

KiwiRPG at the Auckland games fair - A Post Mortem

Last weekend I had the privilege of running the kiwiRPG booth at the Auckland Cancer Society Games Fair, and I’m pleased to say that it went really well! We had plenty of players, designers, and members of the public stop by and chat about the organisation and tabletop games in general. A huge relief considering that it was just me at the booth all weekend, that I had never done anything like this before and was anxious as hell, and the fact that half the stuff that we were planning on having at the booth didn’t arrive in time (cheers to NZ couriers for that fun little headache).

From this experience, I have gained numerous insights, immeasurable wisdom, and a laundry list of shit that I am going to do differently next time.

There is almost nothing you can’t fix with tape (and Post-it notes)

It is honestly fucking comical how many problems got solved with tape and Post-it notes. People joke about this all the time, but it’s TRUE. Signage? Taped Post-it notes. Keeping boxes together? Tape. No business cards? Post-it note. Need someone’s details? Write it on a Post-it note. Sign keeps falling over? Tape that sucker UP. If our biggest supporter for the weekend was the Cancer Society, our biggest second supporter was the unextraordinary office products of paper plus.

I suffered for my hubris (not bringing enough food)

Every con guide tells you to bring enough food and drink. This is not new advice. However, I am (famously) a bit of a dumbass and thought, “I’ve worked shitty restaurant jobs without eating anything for longer hours; this’ll be nothing,” skipped breakfast and brought a single bag of chips with me. Unsurprisingly, I was hungry as hell by hour three of the first day and, with the only options around being out of my budget, I just had to deal with it. Learn from my mistakes and make some sammies before the event.

They stopped for the pretty books and stayed for the one-pagers

We had a decent selection visible at the booth, but the big standout was Dave Elvy/Imaginary Empire’s games, which had fancy colourful covers and a strong reputation (several people recognised them from a distance). Lots of folks walked up primarily to take a look at them, thinking I was the designer, before I explained what KiwiRPG was about.

Once they did walk up though, many people stuck around to read the one-page games and take some with them. Usually, the conversation involved me gushing about what one-page games are and the design freedom they represent, to which they would say, “Ooh, like Honey Heist, right?” to which I’d shrug and say, “Yeah, pretty much.”

The lesson here is that while not visually striking enough to draw people on their own, one-page games make great handouts and conversation starters at events like this.

People fucking LOVE business cards

We were meant to have pamphlets to hand out with our details, but unfortunately, they didn’t arrive in time. Dale, however, was very clever and sent a stack of business cards with his games. These flew off the table like hotcakes. I don’t know how I feel about them from a wastage standpoint, but it seems like having a solid stack of business cards or pamphlets is basically essential for doing stuff like this.

There’s a lot to be gained by teaming up with other creators in the industry

Talking specifically about boothing together at cons here. I got to chat with a boatload of other creators throughout the weekend, and the one thing that almost always came up was the challenges that tend to come up with events like this. There were two things that were mentioned pretty consistently:

 Booths are prohibitively expensive. The Cancer Society were incredibly generous in allowing folks to have a presence at the event for free (only asking that 20% of sales go to the charity), but this is far from the norm. Most cons charge up to 1000 bucks or more to have a booth, exceeding what most small creators can reasonably afford.

Eftpos machines are also super expensive but basically necessary if you want to sell anything. At least in New Zealand, cash is becoming increasingly uncommon payment-wise, and many cons lack an ATM. The price to rent an Eftpos machine can run up to a couple hundred dollars a day and, if you’re mainly selling 5$ - 20$ zines/books, anything less than a total success will leave you sitting at a loss.

I think both of these problems could be solved by getting a bunch of us together to share a space, possibly as a “KiwiRPG Creators” booth. It’d be a way to enable a bunch of people to show off their stuff who’d usually be unable to.

Giveaways should be dead simple

Before the event, I came up with a microgame to do giveaways. It was fun, sort of interesting, and entirely too complicated for what we were doing. After trying it with a few people, I quickly realised that people check out if a giveaway takes more than two sentences to explain. In the end, I stripped it down to its bare essentials and that ended up being much better. Unless you’re really clever, don’t do anything fancy for stuff like this.

The conclusion

The fair was a good time. We spread the good word of KiwiRPG and made some new mates. Yeah.

[notesonlearning]

Im making my own post about a depression post I saw because I don't DISAGREE with it, exactly, but I think there's some NUANCE or whatever.

Cw: mention of suicidal thoughts

So, the gist of the post was "people need to remember that depression/ anxiety are serious conditions that KILL PEOPLE and not just 'gonna lazy about and binge netflix uwu like u see on social media'"

And like. This is true. When I tell people I'm depressed they often act like it's something I can just CHOSE not to do. Like it's no big deal. I told someone once that I almost died of it SEVERAL TIMES and they were absolutely shocked. Which is frustrating and I wish people took it/ me more seriously.

But, as someone who has/ has had severe depression AND anxiety, I find the general tone of "there are REAL people suffering from REAL depression, not that pathetic Depression Lite stuff" to be... not productive. Because people with depression? Are well-known for downplaying their own suffering and not seeking treatment because "there's someone else who REALLY needs it, unlike ME."

Perhaps, if people recognised the seriousness of depression/ anxiety as a disease, this would happen less. Or maybe it would happen more? Hard to say, but either way I think we generally need to be careful of how we label "real"/ "serious" and "non-serious"/ "fake" depression.

I mean, i was literally suicidal and I seriously believed that I wasnt depressed. I only ended up in treatment because my parents caught me having a severe panic attack and dragged me to the doctor about it. I was having daily panic attacks, I had lost all interest in everything around me, I was isolating myself out of the erroneous belief that everyone hated me, I wasn't experiencing ANY joy, was planning my suicide in detail, and still, I told myself "this isn't REAL depression. Everyone deals with this. I'm just weak/ stupid/ insert-mean-name-here". Imagine my surprise when I was (rightfully) diagnosed with SEVERE depression and my parents were advised to do various things to prevent me from literally commiting suicide. I was placed on the fast-track for treatment, essentially "skipping the line", because it was so severe.

And the whole time, I had legitimately thought I wasn't ACTUALLY depressed.

Of course, this doesn't make the other person's post untrue (which is mostly why I'm making a separate post). But when I read that post, I legitimately thought for a second "oh, maybe I'm not REALLY depressed(tm)" when I LITERALLY was suicidal in AUGUST. my depression is less severe now (february), but I'm still sleeping 20 hours a day and breathing through everyday activities to keep calm. I'm still lying in bed, unable to even get up because I feel so heavy with everything I have to do. I still don't shower for weeks and have to be bullied into eating. Perhaps my depression went from severe to moderate, edging towards mild, and maybe I'm not currently in life-threatening danger, but that doesn't mean I'm not still suffering, or that I couldn't go back to that point if I'm not careful.

I guess I just wanted to remind myself, and anyone who reads this, that "REAL depression" isn't always obvious to the people who have it. That guilt/ delusions of being ok are part of depression, and I don't have to be so hard on myself for seeking out treatment.

I just need to keep reminding myself that I'm doing what I can, and that's enough, and that I don't have to suffer more for it to "matter".

[melsuki]

𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 paramedic!reader x prohero!bakugo

a/n: happy birthday the love of my life, the light of my mornings, and the stars of my dusk @kiyelle ! i'm posting this a lil earlier, but i hope you have an amazing birthday sweetheart; i'm so glad we're close and i can't wait to visit you in paris and go to the olympics with you <33 tw. blood, injuries, swearing, hospitals, needle mention

bakugo’s back slammed into a wall, and his head snapped backward, knocking against the concrete. blood ran down his forehead into his eyes, clouding his vision into a blur of red.

heaving in an agonising breath, bakugo ran through every situation and possible action available. his injuries were bad but the villain wasn’t in the greatest shape either; bakugo wasn’t going to let himself reach this level of damage without bringing them down with him too. so if he could just get the fuck up, he could finally crush the pesky bastard into a bloody pulp. 

but just as his hands began warming up, through the ringing of his ears bakugo heard muted sounds of a fight starting up again behind the screen of smoke. his hands went cold. there weren’t any other heroes on duty nearby, and if they were, they definitely weren't strong enough to take on this calibre of villain. 

bakugo gritted his teeth, and cursed at whichever dumb extra came and interrupted the battle, adding on another risk factor that bakugo has to keep in mind.

“stay still.” a stern voice came from beside him, and bakugo started, head whipping to the source of the voice. 

“i said stay still.” you punctuated with a snarl. “you’re critically injured. stay down. shoto is here and taking care of the villain.”

he recognised you. even through the crimson blurring his vision and even through the ringing in the ears, he recognised you. and his blood boiled at the sight.  

“i’m fine.” bakugo snapped, jerking himself away from your precise hands assessing his injuries. the sudden movement elicited a hiss, a stabbing pain blooming in his chest. 

“no, dynamight.” you always say his name with such venom. each syllable like a slap to his face. “you’re not. several ribs broken, possibly a punctured lung, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion are only just some of your injuries.”

bakugo clenched his jaw and his ruby eyes burned into your own obstinate ones. he knew each and every thing you said was correct and his nostrils flared at the thought. 

“so shut the fuck up, let me do my work, and you can go on your merry way as fast as possible because trust me, we all want that. got it?” you stare at him, a brow raised just waiting for him to combat your words. 

if icy hot truly was here, then in reality, the battle was already over. bakugo was sure all civilians were evacuated, and that the villain was damaged just enough that one more grapple would have ended it. 

“hurry up shitty woman.” his eyes tore from yours, and he looked forward, refusing to acknowledge you. as soon as he gave his consent, you started working, hands moving with a practised fluency. he respected your skills and what you did, but bakugo didn’t miss (and definitely didn’t appreciate) the colourful mumbling underneath your breath, most likely aimed at him.

as you tried to staunch the blood loss from the various gashes that you could see on his body, you could tell he was losing blood worryingly fast. his eyes, however razor focused they usually were when you would watch him on the television, were losing focus, and his pupils were dilated, the inky blank eating up the burning crimson. 

“dynamight.” you make eye contact. “the ambulance is right around the corner. my colleagues know our location and are coming with a stretcher and you’ll be in a hospital in no time.” you speak clearly and concisely, gently guiding him to lay down on his back, and preparing a tourniquet. “just focus on your breathing.”

his laboured breaths grew rhythmic, and his eyes fluttered to a close. as his vision grew black, he could hear your voice calling over more paramedics, and as he lost consciousness the last thing he felt was the cool gentle touch of your palm on his forehead, pushing back the blonde strands stuck to his sweaty skin.

the ringing in his ears were dull now. his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, and he could barely feel his limbs. bakugo tried to sit up with a grunt, but was immediately shut down with a firm hand to his chest. “nu-uh, you’re not going anywhere. especially not with those injuries.”

bakugo prepared to bare his teeth at whoever dared to stop him, but as his eyes laid on you, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. you didn't usually stay with him until he woke up. usually you just storm into the aftermath of his battles, and cuss at him until he stands down to let you treat him. that doesn’t always work, unfortunately for you. but when he does, you just leave and disappear as quickly as you came.

“the hell are you doing here?” bakugo rasps, each breath still a symphony of pain.

“making sure my patient is ok.” you cross your arms, eyes drifting over to look outside the window beside his hospital bed. “you were pretty wrecked by that villain. got me worried for a second there.” you frowned, and bakugo noticed the stiffness in your posture.

he coughed out a breath of laughter. “as if i would let some puny shit-stain of a villain like that take me down.”

at those words, a burst of laughter erupted from you, and bakugo paused. he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh like that before. maybe the rare exhale of air from your nose as he swears at you from your many previous encounters, but never like this.

“that’s true.” you concede, and get up from where you were sat next to him. bakugo’s ruby eyes track your every movement as you go to slide open the door of his ward “I’ll go get your nurse. try not to scare them off-“

“thank you.”

you freeze, you’re hand resting light against the doorhandle. you had to question whether you imagined hearing those words as you turn to look at the bed ridden pro hero. 

“sorry?”

“you heard me.” bakugo looked stonily ahead of him, refusing to meet your eyes. 

a smile crept on to your lips. so he finally decided to show some gratitude; it only took him about three life or death situations. oh, you were going to remember this for a very very long time. and by the grimaced look on his face, he knew exactly that. 

“hm sorry dynamight,” his jaw clenched and his fists tightened at the way you said his name. “i didn’t quite catch that.” you hum tapping a finger against your chin comically with the most infuriating smile bakugo has ever seen. 

“get your hearing checked then dipshit i’m not repeating myself.” 

“that what you say to the person who saved your life?”

“i already said thank you now fuck off.”

you laugh softly to yourself; even when in a hospital bed, completely immobile with countless tubes and needles stuck inside of him is he still an annoying brat.

“don’t miss me too much.” you give him a two finger salute, and as you turn to leave, you just miss the ruby stare that flick over to you, and linger even as the door slides to a close.

a/n: ok so ik im on a writing hiatus but shush don't say anything

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

For people who don't know what's happening in the UK, a quick update:

The Prime Minister— henceforth to be referred to as That Twat— has spent the last few months insisting that he never went to any parties. (Oh no sir, no parties whatsoever sir— a bigger boy did it and ran away!) He has said this both in press releases to the general public and also in the House of Commons.

Remember that last bit, it will be important later.

That Twat put off explaining what exactly he was doing then, in that room with all the people, and the booze, and the frickin birthday cake, by saying that we just had to wait for the Sue Grey Report (remember that?). Apparently enough was drunk at these definitely-not-parties that even That Twat was unable to remember what he'd done that night.

Then, when the Sue Grey Report was just due to come out, back in January, after weeks of saying that it was none of their business— and what were we expecting them to do? Enforce the law?— the Met Police (henceforth, Those Bastards) finally got off their arses just in times to announce that Sue Grey wasn't actually allowed to publish everything she'd found, because some of that info was now part of their investigation.

Sue Grey instead released an 'update', which you can read in full here.

To give an idea of what a full report might have contained however (and the neutered version was still pretty damning, confirming as it did that the government were ignoring lockdown rules, and that members of staff were intimidated into silence) British comedian Joe Lycett posted a fake version to Twitter just before the real one came out.

You can read it here. I honestly recommend it more than the real one.

The fake report claimed that several gatherings had been held, at which everyone played games called "slow dance" and "pass the arsehole". It also mentioned a groupchat called "Down It Street" and said that the last guy to suggest that anyone take a test was now being called 'Twateral Flow' around the office.

It was very funny, and just about unbelievable, and would have faded into obscurity if That Twat and staff hadn't apparently believed it. Admittedly we only have Lycett's word for this, but after tweeting the initial parody report, he then tweeted a screenshot of a message from a "verified" source who worked in Downing Street, stating that the report was being treated as a serious leak.

After that, however, things quietened down a bit, primarily because That Twat turned out to have been gifted the most amazing belated Christmas present in the form of Russia invading Ukraine.

I mean given how fucking desperate he is to seen like Churchill (and how determined to ignore all signs to the contrary, despite one of his own MPs using the same “in the name of God, go” speech that was used to make fucking Neville Chamberlain step down— That Twat, author of several books about Churchill, claimed not to recognise it) you can tell he's really wanking off to this. Ask any Tory politician and they'll try and tell you that the UK is somehow a more important player in this war than Ukraine.

Just as Covid had been the perfect excuse for the Brexit fuckup, so Ukraine was the perfect excuse for the Covid fuckup. "We can't talk about the many crimes I have obviously committed, while thousands of my own people died at my hand, because don't you know there's a war on?!"

And— despite a decent attempt in which he genuinely tried to compare the experiences of Ukrainians defending their country from a fucking invasion to those of Brexit voters living in a country where some people disagree with them— on the whole the situation is too big and too distant for That Twat to fuck it up on his own. His advisors must have breathed a sigh of relief.

Bob Hale from Horrible Histories voice: But not for long!

Literally last week, Those Bastards finally got back to us on Boris's Rule Breaking Birthday Bonanza (and the various other parties that he absolutely attended) by stating that they had to fine him! And several of his ministers!

Not a huge punishment on its own, given that he's a Rich Upper Class Twat specifically, but a big deal because it makes him the first UK Prime Minister in history to be sanctioned for a crime while still in office. And that's in over 300 years of people holding the post. And, most importantly, it proves that he lied to the House of Commons when he said he didn't know about any of the parties were happening.

Lying directly to the House of Commons, is a huge no, no in British politics. It's called Misleading Parliament and in theory it's supposed to carry the harshest penalties.

Unfortunately the British government was and still is largely run by the Eton set, and founded around their ideals, so at the moment we're all basically limited to asking That Twat to pretty please fall on his sword for the sake of Honour, and then standing by awkwardly as he absolutely does not do that.

(There has actually been a petition to make Misleading Parliament against the law, instead of just against the MPs' code of conduct. The petition gained over 100,000 votes, which meant that Parliament were supposed to consider it for debate, but the government responded with "fuck no, lol 😜" and it's been over a year, so that's that then.)

Since he refuses to resign, which is the usual way of dealing with this situation, the other way to get him out is his having Parliament declare a vote of No Confidence in him— but the only circumstances under which such a vote could be held is if 15% of all sitting Tory MPs write in to say that they think there should be one.

And since they all know that the results of such a vote would be one of them having to pick up the poisoned chalice that is the Prime Ministership as That Twat has left it, that's unlikely to happen any time soon. (It admittedly looked like it was about to happen back when the Partygate news first broke, but then Putin remembered that he hadn't gotten Boris anything for his birthday, and decided to make up for it by providing the ultimate distraction.)

The other, highly unlikely option, is that the Queen sacks him. Technically she has the power to do this. No monarch has used it since 1838— when it didn't really stick— and in theory she's only supposed to use it if he decides to go full Hitler and take over the world (which is also why she's the one with ultimate control over the armed forces). However, given that one of the crimes he's accused of— the one he basically admitted to— was having a piss-up on the night of her husband's funeral, and that given her age it's unlikely she'll be Queen for that much longer anyway, she might decide to give it a go.

At 3:30 today, That Twat faces his MPs for the first (and last, pretty please say last) time since the fine and has to explain himself. Currently his line of defence seems to be that he didn't know he was breaking any laws, because nobody told him what they were. In fairness, they probably didn't, but then they probably expected him to already know given that he was the one making them.

His argument relies on either the rules being so Byzantine and confusing in nature that nobody could be expected to understand them— which seems a bit rough on the British public, especially all those who were fined extravagantly for breaking them— or that That Twat himself is unfortunately as thick as two short planks, and everyone should forgive him for his misdeeds and definitely not question whether someone who's incapable of understanding his own law should really be Prime Minister.

So, overall, it's a shitshow.

[witchersgoldenbard]

“ i don't mean to bother you. “ “ you're not. “ for geraskier? because I am sneakily reminding you that you are not a bother but are in fact greatly loved 😌

i love you so much 🥺💛 thank you for the prompt

wc: 1.9k | tags: yearning, post-s2. love confessions, stars as narrative device, hurt/comfort

as the stars above them hum and hear them

Jaskier feels nothing but hollow looking up at the stars. Essi had always loved them, had spent hours waxing poetic about the comfort she could draw from the stars. Wherever we go, whenever we look, they will always be there as steady companions. Maybe we can be close to them one of these days. It seems like a lifetime ago that Jaskier had met Essi‘s beautiful eyes and drawn her into a hug while she went on and on about constellations, making up stories about them as she went. They were warm and happy on that summer’s night out on the fields close to Oxenfurt.

The stars that are shining down on Jaskier right now are different, though familiar. Every winter they are the same wherever Jaskier goes, and it should bring him comfort. One constant, one anchor, one thing in his life he can depend on. But it doesn’t.

The air around him is freezing and he’s not sure he can feel his cheeks anymore, yet he cannot move from where he sat down on the nearly destroyed stone bridge, Kaer Morhen‘s courtyard spread out several feet beneath him in the moonless dark. And Jaskier is looking up at the stars because if he dared to look anywhere else, he’s not sure he would manage to breathe right.

A noise startles him and he blinks away frozen tears, turning his head to find someone standing beside him. Geralt. Jaskier would recognise him anywhere, even on a moonless night, cast only in the light of stars that might as well exist in another world entirely for how far away they are.

“I don’t mean to bother you,” Geralt says, his voice so unfairly gentle that Jaskier barely has time to consider his words before he speaks.

“You’re not.”

Geralt doesn’t move, doesn’t even hum, but Jaskier imagines there to be the tiniest of smiles on the witcher’s lips. It makes his heart race and he has to tear his eyes away from his figure to look back up at the night sky. The stars are well-versed in Jaskier’s feelings for the witcher already, they can bear witness to his yearning expression and the little sigh he releases.

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”

Jaskier swallows, suppresses the urge to look at Geralt again and instead keeps his eyes where they are. “Yeah.” It comes out as barely more than a whisper.

Another beat of silence passes, then Geralt takes a step closer to him. “Can I sit with you?”

Maybe it’s the sudden breeze that whips through his hair and brings with it freezing gust of air that smells like freshly fallen snow, but Jaskier feels his eyes beginning to prick.

“Of course,” he croaks, wincing at the quality of his voice. He holds his breath, prays that his heart won’t beat out of his chest and find its place again inside Geralt’s hands for the witcher to crush at will. It’s futile, because even crushed, his heart never left the witcher’s hold.

They sit together for a while, but Jaskier has long since stopped trying to find solace, company or comfort in the night sky. He’s trying not to breathe too loudly, trying not to move, trying not to overwhelm Geralt again with his mere existence, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from welling up again.

“Did you ever manage to find it?” Geralt breakes the silence then, his voice nothing more than a whisper, and still Jaskier jumps ever so slightly, only held in place by the weight of golden eyes he can feel resting upon him. He doesn’t meet them. Doesn’t dare to.

“Find what?“

“The thing that pleases you.”

If it were at all possible, Jaskier would think that the light of the stars above them has dimmed ever so slightly. The words tear into him with how gently they’ve been said, and it does nothing to calm his stinging eyes or racing heart.

“Don’t do this, Geralt,” Jaskier begs.

“Do what?” He sounds genuinely confused, subdued like every time he feels that something should be obvious but he cannot figure it out. It breaks Jaskier’s heart even more, because everything would just be so much easier if Geralt wanted to hurt him on purpose instead of these accidental stabs right into his soul.

“Don’t— I can’t do this again, Geralt.”

It’s not lost on him. Sitting together, only one of them looking at the other... The parallels of it, the same conversation, and everything has changed but his feelings for Geralt. The one constant in his life.

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

And it’s not necessarily an empty apology, but Jaskier knows that Geralt doesn’t know what he’s apologising for. With a broken little sigh, Jaskier decides that he has already lost everything, his once burning fingers now lying frozen in his lap as a reminder of it, and he has nothing left to give but this. He can give Geralt the truth, give away the last piece of his soul before he can truly be nothing but a hollowed out shell of himself.

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers then, and that’s when the tears begin to fall from his eyes, the cold air freezing their tracks on his cheeks, but the sting of it is no greater than the pain inside his chest.

“Me?”

“Yes. It’s always been you.” And I’m sorry, he doesn’t add, but it’s a close thing. Loving Geralt is really nothing he wants to apologise for. Loving Geralt feels like the one thing in life that is good, even if he did it so horribly wrong that he lost his witcher in the process.

A beat of silence passes between them and he can still fee Geralt’s eyes on him, but Jaskier only closes his own, hides them even from the stars that know his feelings so well.

“I… I didn’t think you—“ A sigh, then Geralt tries again. “Still? After everything?”

Jaskier huffs out a humourless laugh and sniffles. “Still. Always. I tried to stop, but I’m not as strong as you, Geralt. I’m not strong enough to stop, I—“

“I’m not strong either. I tried to be, Jaskier, I tried too hard. I was weak and only made myself weaker by trying not to be. I lost you and… and then I realised what I think I’ve known all along, but I didn’t want to know it because I didn't want to be weak. But I found out that when it comes to you, I always am. One way or another.” Geralt breathes and Jaskier almost misses his next word for how loudly his heart is beating out of his chest. “You make me weak, Jask.”

He shakes his head, tries not to shiver from the cold and the tears and the waves of emotions coursing through him. This isn’t real. It cannot possibly be.

But when he opens his eyes again, he finds Geralt still looking at him, his hands twitching in his lap like they never did before. Jaskier wants to reach out and hold them. He can’t move, though, can only stare and let the tears roll down his cheeks as he tries to make sense of it all.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Geralt whispers then, swaying where he is. Swaying towards Jaskier, as though his body is yearning to touch. “I’m sorry I lost you. I’m sorry you thought you’d lost me. I’m— I just... I need you to know.”

Jaskier doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to feel. But he knows what he wants to do, and it’s the one thing he has always wanted to do, the constant ache in his chest, the tingling in his arms to lean into Geralt and share his warmth surrounded by the comforting scent of leather and wood. And so, in the cover of darkness with only the stars as his witness, that’s what he does. He leans into Geralt slowly, ready to retreat at any moment and brush it off like he always has. The witcher doesn’t tense, though, doesn’t push him off or grunt in displeasure.

No. What he does is wrap his arm around Jaskier’s shoulder and hold him there like he only ever did in Jaskier’s dreams.

“You didn’t lose me,” Jaskier speaks then, barely audible because he doesn’t dare to interrupt the cover of silence that has settled over them. “I promise you didn’t. You can even ask the stars,” he adds with a little smile.

“The stars?”

“Hmm. They know. They’ve always known.”

Geralt swallows, and Jaskier can hear how his heart is beating a little faster in his chest. “Known what?”

Heart hammering, Jaskier takes a deep breath and lets it out on a wavering exhale. “That I love you, Geralt of Rivia. And that I always have and always will.”

There. There it is. The last shard of who he used to be, who he is and who he could be. The last piece of his heart that he had a strong hold on, now given away and given freely, resting inside the cradle of Geralt’s hands. It should hurt. Jaskier had always imagined it would hurt when he’d finally tell Geralt, had imagined it would be yelled instead of whispered. Had imagined the air would shift and he would suffocate, a stone-faced Geralt the last thing he’d see before he died a broken-hearted man.

Instead, he feels the careful press of lips to the crown of his head before Geralt tentatively takes a hold of his hand, cradling it as gently as his heart.

“If the stars already bore witness to your story, let them hear a part of mine, hm? The part where I tell you that…” he swallows, and Jaskier holds his breath. “That I think I love you, too. That I miss you. And that I need you.”

And then, miraculously, it is Jaskier who pulls back first. He doesn’t leave the embrace, only sits back and stares at Geralt for the first time tonight. For the first time in what feels like years. He’s still crying, but a hand comes up to his face and wipes away the tears before resting there in a gentle hold. It’s warm and Jaskier can’t help the way he leans into the touch, earning another smile from Geralt.

Time is suspended in the way they look at each other, and Jaskier’s breath hitches when Geralt’s thumb gently strokes his cheek. Breathing becomes difficult in the most wonderful way.

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs, swaying closer again. “Can I—“

“Yes,” Jaskier breathes, leaning into Geralt and letting the man claim his lips in a gentle kiss. Hands find their way into his hair as though Geralt means to hold him in place, afraid that Jaskier would leave him.

Neither of them have any more words to share with the stars, but Geralt trails kisses over Jaskier’s face, kissing away the frozen tracks of tears on his cheeks until Jaskier’s own hands find their way into Geralt’s hair, stilling him so he can press a kiss to his forehead. One to his nose. One to the dimple in his chin, and finally one to his smiling lips.

The next time he looks up at the twinkling lights above them, he could swear they’re brighter than they ever were before. And maybe they are, because it’s the first time they can see Geralt holding him like that. Jaskier doesn’t care to examine that, though, because now he can just close his eyes and breathe in the familiar scent of the man he loves so much. And that’s exactly what he does.

Neither of them bears witness to the shooting star that illuminates the night sky above.

~

tagging: @wherethewordsare @natilieal @meebles @luteandsword @horsedadgeralt @herostag @professorjaskier @toboldlynerd

[balillee]

tommy's character gets far too much shit.

hi tumblr. i'm gonna need a few bitches to spread this post everywhere, essentially because i want someone, or just tommy really, to see it. so if you really want, you can screenshot it and post it on twitter, reddit, link it everywhere - go absolutely buck wild. i know he reads the VODS comments a lot, but they're chock full of people just insulting him, his character, his writing and everything about his story in the dream smp simply because they don't understand it and because they refuse to acknowledge his character's perspective (mainly because they only care about the pig). reading that many critical comments on something you've created can only make you feel worse about it eventually, and in light of all the awful techno apologist takes on his character, i wanted to basically just word vomit about how wonderfully crafted c!tommy is, as well as compile some other tumblr posts about his character.

there is a massive fuckin community of people who enjoy the character of tommy, because the character is incredible. i myself have made post after post after post commenting on and analysing tommy's character because i find that there's so much to pick apart. but that enthusiasm for his character only seems to be found on tumblr. reddit and twitter seem to hate his character, the VODS seem to be filled with comments from people who only care about techno's perspective (and treat techno as a reliable narrator, which, is the furthest thing from the truth - that guy lies through his teeth all the time), and the smp wiki is a hellscape of godawful takes and mistruths, not even on just tommy's character.

c!tommy is brilliantly acted and brilliantly written, and almost everything he does is either justifiable or has been rectified or admitted as a mistake. you can clearly make connections as to where he got his conclusions from. you feel what his character experiences, as a member of the audience, vividly.

if you look in the more objective sense, c!tommy, and this is especially in the context of him being the youngest character, is a scapegoat. people claim he's awful and destructive when in reality he's a lot less destructive than most characters on the server. a moment that comes to mind is where he diverts schlatt and quackity's attention from pogtopia by breaking part of the flag in manberg, and then replacing it so as to buy tubbo some time - he literally monologues after it about how he doesn't want to destroy but instead rebuild, and how he feels as if nobody else seems to understand that.

his arc in season two was incredible. it was very character driven, and it gave a spotlight to his motivations. at the start we see him in new l'manberg, and he's enjoying his time there, he's skeptical of his friend's presidency, but his main goal is to get back the discs so that he can stop dream and eliminate that threat. he made one screw up that didn't even matter to george, and he paid for it tenfold, even after dream had spent a while with puffy griefing the server and framing it on tommy - what tommy and ranboo did was convinient. then, in exile, we see c!tommy straight up get abused. he's gaslit and conditioned into being c!dream's friend, and in his brain he teaches himself that those acts of abuse are moments of bonding, and it eventually brings him to the point of wanting to end his own life - he's been torn away from his friends and his support system, and nobody will visit him consistently anymore because they only showed him pity, and all he had left was dream, who had hurt him.

but he doesn't die there, because while he didn't understand the full gravity of it back then like he does now, he recognises that dying isn't an escape, and he can beat dream, even if he doesn't know how. so this is where he goes to techno's place, and here's where the fandom starts to misinterpret the situation wildly.

it's the problem similar to when your parents tell you that they're owed something back because you put a roof over their head, despite that being Not How It Works. techno took tommy in and severely mistreated him emotionally. sure, and i understand this, c!techno is a bad communicator who isn't really that empathetic to anyone who isn't phil or wilbur, but that doesn't excuse the blatant lying to c!tommy's face, the guilt tripping, the friendship buying and the degrading. the day before the festival, tommy finally does something violent in his interrogation of fundy, and only then does techno tell him,,,,

that tommy's not equal to him, that techno doesn't respect him all that much, and that they're not friends.

from techno's perspective, and at the time, this was viewed as a positive development in their relationship. oh, he's starting to warm up to tommy! this friendship could really blossom!

no. from a more objective standpoint, what techno has just said to tommy is : 'i respect you only a little bit more now, because while you're starting to act more like me, you're still annoying and a burden.'

and i haven't even touched on the whole 'erasing the words 'Destroy L'manberg' from techno's to-do list' thing, because that instantly refutes the point of 'techno was upfront with his intentions the whole time' - because he wasn't! he may have said it the first time, but you also know what else he did? he repeatedly told tommy that they'd 'air the details out later' whenever the discs were brought up, and from a tommy viewer's perspective at the time, it was framed as if techno was no longer going to do that.

and i also haven't dared touch the 'i would have fought them all for you', because that's major guilt tripping if ever i've seen it.

so, the day of the festival comes, and here's where c!techno and his apologists completely misread c!tommy's thought process, and why he makes the decision he does.

tommy instantly regrets valuing the discs over tubbo, and it's framed as the culmination of tommy having become all the people he said he would never want to be like. and what does he immediately do? he tells tubbo to give up the disc, and he sides with tubbo. he puts his value in his friends, and, by proxy, l'manberg. and when he betrays techno, he tells him 'i'm sorry'.

from a more objective standpoint, tommy's time with techno is him valuing the discs over almost anything else. so, in leaving techno to be with tubbo again, he is valuing people above the discs. so when, on doomsday, techno says his 'discs aren't people' line, what he doesn't realise is that he himself fueled tommy's valuing of discs above people when attempting to fuel tommy's vengeance against tubbo and l'manberg. techno doesn't realise that he was an unhealthy presence for tommy, and an even worse influence.

what techno also doesn't seem to understand is that tommy never hated tubbo or l'manberg - tommy recognises, now at least, that his exile wasn't a product of tubbo, but a product of dream's manipulation, likely in part because at the time, especially with dream lying about tommy blowing up the community house, tommy was the only one who could see it because he had experienced it firsthand. so when techno sides with dream, it's like kicking tommy in the teeth.

and i want to mention that betraying someone doesn't necessarily make the person who was betrayed good, or in the right, or even justified, because tommy was entirely justified to leave techno. you know who else was betrayed? schlatt. but i don't see many schlatt apologists around angry at quackity for joining the rebellion.

tommy stole the axe of peace? good. it was a moment of tommy defining his self-worth, instead of having it defined by others. gone is the age of c!techno belittling him and deciding how much c!tommy should be respected. NEXT!

here's a moment i wanted to talk about that will forever be funny to me.

'i am a person.'

techno's very famous line from doomsday. techno says to tommy that discs aren't people, and that tommy should value people, despite not understanding that by leaving techno, he did just that. and what does tommy say in return, which has been omitted from every c!tommy-critical analysis, and every animatic?

'yes you are, but so are we.'

an acknowledgement of techno's hurt, to which tommy has already apologised for. a statement that says 'your hurt does not excuse, nor justify, the hurt you have inflicted onto us.' an acknowledgement that tommy has already learnt the lesson techno seems to be trying to 'teach' him. but you can't teach him anything by destroying.

c!tommy has had almost everything he has ever owned or built either taken from him or destroyed. ranboo even points out that the only two things of tommy's left standing are his house and his hotel, and if i'm honest, his house is dissheveled. it's a labyrinth of terror due only to how many times it's been torn apart. l'manberg being blown up didn't teach anyone anything about anarchy, or about valuing people over possessions. logstedshire being blown up didn't teach tommy to be obedient.

i could honestly ramble for ages about how nuanced tommy's character is and how much depth and complexity there is to his character's process and his relationship with others, but more than that, c!tommy is forgiving. he invites almost everyone who hates him to the grand opening of his hotel - if that isn't an indicator that he just wants friends, and not to be treated like the embodiment of evil, then i don't know what is. he holds grudges, but he doesn't really actively hate anyone, other than c!dream. but, we'll let him. c!dream deserves nothing but to be pummeled into the floor.

tommy doesn't spoonfeed his character nuance, and he doesn't really spell it out for his audience. he'll mention things like trauma and triggers in passing, but a lot of analysis on his motivations has to be picked up from what is said in passing or from what can be seen in between the lines.

i'd be here for hours if i were to talk about everything i love about c!tommy, because honestly he's one of my favourite characters, and there are so many angles you can look at his character from in terms of his age, his relationships with others, his motivations, his personality, his character arcs etc etc. so instead of doing that, i'm going to compile some much more specific analysis posts below to skim through because they highlight so many good aspects of his character.

^^ A thread about the 'yes you are, but so are we' line.

^^ About how shit the VODS comments are.

^^ A comment on how c!Tommy is actually pretty peaceful, and is actually less destructive than most characters on the server.

^^ Possibly the best c!Tommy analysis thread I've ever seen in relation to his trauma, which gives multiple perspectives.

^^ About how c!Tommy is treated as a scapegoat, and how, from an objective standpoint, he is no more violent than any other character, it's just that the little violence that is committed is blown far out of proportion.

^^ Tumblr user flypaw being a bad bitch, as per usual.

^^ c!Tommy being incredibly intelligent, and talking about wanting to rebuild and not destroy. A very underrated monologue of his.

^^ Something short about c!Tommy and c!Wilbur's relationship in Pogtopia.

^^ Less about c!Tommy, more a meta on L'Manberg. Really interesting to think about.

^^ A take on Doomsday.

I'll add some more posts in a reblog in the notes, but if anyone's post(s) is on this and they want me to take it off, let me know and I'll do that for you! Feel free to add your own banger c!Tommy takes or ones that you've found.

[moririki]

⤷ A BLOODSTAINED CONFESSION

RENGOKU KYOJURO X READER -> 3.6K
you patch up your fellow hashira after the hardest fight of your lives

REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> MUGEN TRAIN SPOILERS like before the cut and everything, mentions of blood + gore, so kinda angsty but definitely a fluffy ass ending, reader is a hashira but it's left ambiguous as to what element you are👍, i watched the movie two months ago so my recollection of dialogue and plot may be *slightly* off, near-death experience, idk how to write combat so i just... didn’t, reader lowkey thirsts over rengoku's back muscles and shit because why tf not, idk how injuries work aaaa
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> rengoku my beloved,,, he deserves the world,, i think i should have made this less angsty im SORRY (i rlly heard "extra fluffy" and it just went 👩🏻➡️ straight through my head huh) also i bet you guys missed me and my late-ass posting <3 but here i am!! for now!! yeahhhh!! i feel like the writing in this got a little repetitive so i apologise for that

APPARENTLY, THE DESTRUCTION OF AN ENTIRE TRAIN wasn't enough to end this mission. even with one lower six demon defeated, another much stronger one had replaced it. the arrival of akaza was a significant turning point in the battle, and one that you cursed yourself for missing.

you should have known that this mission would he more dangerous than expected when both you and rengoku had been deployed to the train, alongside three rookies. you should have known better than to let rengoku convince you to stay back and help evacuate rather than let him handle it alone.

he had been so full of confidence- squeezing your hand firmly before rushing off, leaving you feeling slightly lightheaded from the brief contact of his warm palm. you should have wished him luck, told him to be careful, anything, but he was gone before you had the chance.

you made quick work of evacuating the passengers of the derailed train, making sure that they were all confirmed to be outside of the carriages before entrusting their safety to zenitsu and nezuko. it was around when you had carried out the last passenger that you felt the ground rumble beneath your feet, coming from the other side of the embankment that you were currently placed at. 

before you gave yourself time to really think things through, you were shouting instructions to the pair of demon slayers and dashing off towards the source of the noise, hand readily placed on your sword. that was the direction that rengoku ran is all that went through your mind.

the scene that you found yourself facing did little to quell your fears. you reached two bodies first, recognising them as the hapless figures of inosuke and tanjiro. from a glance you could see the extent of their injuries, with the latter laying on the ground barely conscious. the boar-headed one could only stare at the fight happening several metres away, his shoulders slumped in defeat and swords hanging by his sides.

“there’s no opening,” he only whispered, barely audible. that much was true. even you had difficulty keeping up with the movements of rengoku and the demon that he was fighting. the fact that it had already been several minutes and that there was no clear advantage concerned you, and you unsheathed your sword.

“you two stay put, and learn what it means to be a hashira, alright?” you tried offering a brilliant smile, much like you had seen the flame hashira do so many times, but you hoped that yours didn't fall flat. from the slight relief shown on tanjiro’s worn face, though, you took that as a good sign.

without wasting another second, you rushed towards rengoku and the demon, assessing their movements. inosuke wasn’t joking when he said there wasn’t any opening, their movements equally matched. you took the chance and struck when rengoku managed to get the demon to stumble back. bringing your sword down in a vertical strike, you severed one of its arms, before taking a cursory glance back at rengoku to make sure that he was alright.

your wound did little to hinder the demon, as it simply chuckled before regrowing its limb.

“oh? another hashira? don’t tell me you think that this is a fair match,” the demon sneered as you held your sword in front of you, still nervously eyeing the blood that was beginning to drip at rengoku’s feet. it amazed you as to how he was still standing, let alone also ready to keep fighting, but you weren’t going to stop him with that amount of determination in his eyes.

“i wouldn’t say that you appearing after we had to fight an entire train was fair either, but here we are,” you glared at the demon, adjusting the grip on your sword.

“think you can hold on a little longer?” you asked rengoku, still facing the demon.

“always.” you could picture the steadfast smile on his face, lending you his strength whenever you needed it. you took a deep breath, starting your total concentration breathing and launching off of your foot, propelling yourself forwards.

you heard rengoku's footsteps right behind you, dependable as ever. when you swung your sword and sliced through, you knew that the flame hashira was there to follow through with a co-ordinated attack.

despite your best efforts, the upper six demon lived up to its status and provided to be more than a challenge for even both you and rengoku fighting him simultaneously. in fact, akaza had even managed to gain the upper hand a few times, leaving you with a cracked rib that was making it more difficult to focus and control your breathing.

but you and rengoku's big break arrived in the form of a rising sun that leeched itself into your surroundings. the glow was nothing but welcomed by you, though your demon opponent let fear flicker across its face for the first time this night as it turned foot and fled. the invisible adrenaline-fuelled strings that held you up snapped, and you felt the strength from your body sap, too spent to gove chase to akaza.

the bitter taste of defeat crushed you, numbing your senses as you barely heard the cries of tanjiro as he yelled at the retreating figure of akaza. you turned to your fellow yashira, eyes widening and senses returning as you took in the way he had slumped to the floor, head bowed as he kneeled.

"no, don't you dare," you mumbled, dropping to your knees too in front of him. panic gave your limbs a new purpose as your hands stretched out in front of you, seeking out the warmth rengoku still emitted even when mortally wounded.

the most pressing matter was the dark stain of blood that gave his uniform an unnatural sheen that was still spreading. you pressed a hand to the source of it, a large gash across his stomach that was much too deep for your liking. your other hand came to rest on his face, tilting his head up to look at you for any sort of good sign to cling onto.

"you better stay alive!" your voice was shrill, harsher than you wanted it to be, but those were factors you could hardly control more than the blood oozing from rengoku's stomach. you could see how unfocused his eyes were, and how heavy his head was when only being propped up by the waning strength in your hand. your own injuries had been forgotten, cast aside in favour for you to fear for the flame hashira's life.

and still, despite everything, the man still smiled. the blood covering half his face did little to mar its radiance. rengoku raised a shaking, bloody hand of his own, letting it fall heavy against your own as you felt your hold begin to slip.

"you're hurt too, you know." his words were more of a shaky exhale, though you heard it all the same. you felt a smile slip onto yours too as rengoku proved to still be so vigilant in the wellbeing of others.

"you don't need to remind me, shut up and save your energy," you whispered back. you didn't trust yourself to speak any louder in fear of your voice cracking.

"but.. i have to tell you something." the insistence in his eyes was back, burning into you so mich that you couldn't help but lean closer, trying to ease his burden of being audible.

"quit talking like you're dying." you were practically whispering into his ear, close enough to feel the rasp of his breath as he laughed, holding your hand tighter. his other hand came up to your own face, rough thumb brushing against the skin underneath your eye, wiping away a tear you never realised had tracked its way there.

"let me bandage you up." your voice may not have shook, but your hands definitely did as you disentangled them from rengoku's hold, urging him to put pressure on his wound while your fingers found purchase on the hem of your uniform and ripped off a strip of it. it was barely enough to cover his injury but you managed to wrap the severed cloth around his middle a few times, tying it tight and hoping that it was enough to stop the bleeding.

"just.. stay with me until backup comes, alright? you've got tell me something once we get out of here, remember?" rengoku nodded into your palm, smiling at your words as his eyelids fluttered shut. but you were close enough to still feel that he was warm, to feel the slight rise and fall of his chest as he managed to still breathe, and that gave you some comfort.

minutes felt like hours when you had to talk to fill the gap. whether it was to give rengoku something that tethered him to this mortal realm, or a way for you to distract yourself from your own pain, you onew that you would both have to tough it out a little longer, just until the others arrived.

"you know, i've always admired you." you were surprised at both his words and how clear rengoku's voice sounded. your grip on his hand tightened a little, and you leaned towards him so that your forehead pressed against his.

"this is hardly the time to say something like that, kyojuro." you tried not to laugh, the pain of your ribs starting to edge back in as the adrenaline left your body as the sun soaked your bodies.

"i just wanted you to know." you would have responded to the man if it weren't for the shouts that became all too clear. help was here, and everything was going to be okay now.

you didn't want to let rengoku out of your sight, but many insistent hands prised his body from your grip, and with barely the strength to speak there was little that you could do about it except succumb to the pain of your wounds and finally fall unconscious.

recovery was never an aspect of fighting that you looked forward to. when you finally came to, there were a few gripping moments of panic when you asked a nurse if rengoku was here, if he was alive. you had been assured that he was before the pain and medication kicked in again for a fitful sleep as your body healed.

but no matter how you were pressed back into bed, into the constraints of sleep, you never really felt like you were at rest. your mind was still racing to places your body couldn't as it pieced together the events just before you got hospitalised.

when you could finally get up without keeling over, you were stumboing your way through the hallways as stealthily as possible, leaning on walls for support and peering into rooms as you walked past, in search of your fellow hashira. your cards of luck had lined up when you stumbled upon his sleeping figure less than three rooms down from yours.

he looked a lot cleaner, still donning a serene smile even when unconscious and you felt the panic gripping your body loosen its hold. the throb of your most likely broken ribs was enough of an edge to keep you awake, and you made your way over to rengoku's bedside.

there was a convenient chair placed next to him, and you tried not to grunt in pain as you sat down in it. rengoku didn't even stir at your approach, and you resigned yourself to sitting there, studying his figure and resisting the urge to check whether he was actually breathing or not. if you focused enough, you saw the subtlest rise and fall of his chest, just enough to qualm your fears.

your concentration was broken as you heard the sliding door open again, and the hesitant voice of a nurse breaking your intense silence.

"ah, i'm sorry to interrupt but i need to change rengoku's bandages." to prove her point, the nurse raised her arm to emphasise the strips of fabric held by them. you stood up hastily, sending a cursory glance back at the still-sleeping form of rengoku.

like all matters regarding the flame hashira, you found your mouth and body working a little faster than your brain.

"it's alright, i can change them for you. i'm sure that you have plenty of other patients to tend to." the nurse nodded, though she still looked hesitant to hand you the bandages. you gave her a reassuring smile, stretching out your hand to take them. "i've had plenty of experience with this, don't worry."

the nurse appeared relieved, giving you a quick thanks before exiting and letting the door click shut behind her.

you turned your attention back to rengoku's sleeping figure only to watch him crack a single amber eye open and give you an almost sheepish smile. you couldn't help the flooding sensation of relief that drenched your bones, and you returned his gesture.

"i'm glad to see that you're alright." rengoku's eyes never left yours, and you felt yourself grow hot underneath his gaze.

"glad to see you too." you offered a hand, helping rengoku shuffle further up the bed with minimal effort on your side. despite the bandages covering a large expanse of his upper body, his grip on your hand was still stable and you bit back the fond smile threatening to bloom on your face.

luckily for you, rengoku seemed to get the message that he needed to get shirtless without you asking him, which saved you a whole lot of embarrassment. you weren't confident in your ability to look him in the eye and ask him to strip without blushing, though you did exactly that as your eyes raked over his bare skin.

littered with scars and covering taut muscle, it was hard not to let your eyes wander down his form. from the look on rengoku's face, he looked well aware of the effect that he had on you and fixing you with a practically imperceptible smirk. you were quick to ask him to turn around, and he obliged as quickly as someone with broken and bruised bones could manage.

his back was the same story, with broad shoulders and defined shoulderblades that had muscle twitching without you touching it. you sucked in a breath, way too audible for your liking, and tried not to let your hand stretch out to run your fingers down the expanse of his back. you were here to help treat him, not indulge in some fantasy of yours.

your mindset snapped back to professionalism as you grabbed hold of the fresh bandages, opting to put them on after you removed the old ones. while there was no sign of infection, you still grimaced at the bloody sight of rengoku's major wound. you tried not to show how much it had upset you, both now and in the moment, and your attention turned to your slightly trembling fingers.

you were careful to avoid where his skin was obviously discoloured from bruising, not wanting to cause him any unnecessary pain. he was warm to the touch, enough to invite you in with some false sense of confort before burning you alive. the way his back muscles jumped at your touch did little to help your concentration, but you shouldered on.

your mingld escaped you, insisting on recounting those painful minutes where rengoku was vpeeding out on the battlefield. there was a particular focus on his insistence to tell you something, and you bit your lip. surely, he would ask you at some point from now.

"how are your ribs?" rengoku's voice cut through the silence, its rasping edge acting as evidence of hiw soundly he had been sleeping earlier. while it wasn't the question you wanted him to ask you, you were never one to turn down conversation. especially from him.

"worry about yourself, kyojuro. i'm fine." your appliance of the fresh bandage meant that you would now have to be stood in front of him, a development that had your face flaming from the close proximity. silence set in, and all that distracted you from the rise and fall of his stomach was his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. your eyes flickered towards the ceiling, relying on your hands to guide yourself instead.

you dared to glance down and saw rengoku’s eyes fixed on your face already. there was something about his softened features and the look in his eyes that had you scrambling to stare at the blank ceiling again. as much as you would like to retreat at every first sign if danger or confrontation, you knew that you woukd have to talk to him soon, whether it was you or him who brought up the conversation topic from that day.

taking a deep breath, you perched yourself on the edge of rengoku's bed, still maintaining a professional amount of distance from him. still close enough to spot how his smile brightens when you choose to stay. you glanced down at your fingers, twisting knots into themselves as they were placed in your lap. you almost cursed and placed them underneath you to stop that, but instead you fixed your gaze on the flame hashira's ever-present smile.

"do you remember when you said you had to tell me something? right after akaza?" rengoku straightened up a little, nodding. you gave a cursory glance to the bandages safely wrapped around him, and winced as you remembered how much blood had left him that day. 

as if he could tell what you were thinking, rengoku reached forward and took your hand in his. you sucked in a breath at the sensation of his calloused hands, wincing as your ribs ached in protest. you couldn’t bring yourself to break his stare as your fingers intertwined, and rengoku brought you slightly closer to him. the tension was palpable, and you squeezed his hand in an attempt to alleviate some of it.

“what did you want to tell me, kyojuro?” you were still closing the distance between the two of you, voice barely above a whisper because there was no need to talk any louder for him to hear you. everything about him drew you closer, and the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. you finally stopped, inches away, staring at him expectantly.

“well, there was a chance that i was going to die that day, so i was going to be selfish and tell you that i love you."

it amazed you how he could say that with such confidence when that statement had effectively swept you off of your feet. you were well aware that you looked more than caught off guard- your eyes had widened, and your mouth probably hung open from shock. that was nothing to stop rengoku’s words, though. if anything, it only encouraged him to keep going.

"and when i said that i admire you, i meant it. i admire your strength and how willing you are to help others. i admire you when it's sunset and you're laughing and i admire the way your hands feel, especially here." he guided your hand to his face, letting it cradle his cheek as he rested his own hand at your wrist, not willing to let go. you were sinking into the warmth of his body, letting his borrowed strength keep you upright.

“and most of all, i admire you because i find your beauty striking in everything that you do.” you were silent as rengoku’s eyes searched your own, watching as his lips split as he laughed. “you’re crying again.” you raised your other hand to your cheekbone, feeling the liquid there that began its trek down the planes of your face. you wiped them away with the back of your hand, keeping yourself anchored to rengoku as you curled your fingers around his own.

you felt so light that you could float away, and you couldn’t  help but laugh and grin as you fully processed the confession of the man lying underneath you. tears still rolled down your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the bittersweet pang as you remembered exactly why he was here recovering.

“you really scared me back there, you know?”

“it wasn’t my intention.” you laughed through your sniffle, feeling his warm hand trace patterns on the back of yours. you shuffled forwards and, as best as your shared injuries allowed it, you gave rengoku a hug. while your arms were around his neck, his rested squarely on your lower back, and it was better than anything else you could imagine.

you pulled away, relinquishing the comfort of his arms in favour of looking him in the eye as you prepared what to say next. admittedly, it was a lot easier when you knew how the other person felt about you.

“you know i admire you too, rengoku, and i love you. so much.” joy rewrote itself within his eyes, and they almost glowed with how intense his emotions were after you uttered those words.

“you do?”

your yes came out as a barely audible breath before you were being snagged forwards by him again. you practically crashed against his lips, but you welcomed the sensation, pulling yourself closer to him and settling on his lap.

you sighed into the searing kiss, only truly appreciating his warmth now as you felt it spread through you. you kissed him back intensely, ignoring the dull ache of your ribs to chase the addictive feeling that you only got around him.

around the person who loved you back.

take a look at the menu - ,, ⛩ ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[parvulous-writings]

Home // Mother!Dimitrescu x Child!F!Reader

Request:  Hi! may i request this scenario: what if lady dimitrescu had a fourth daughter? like child reader stumbles into the castle and lady dimitrescu decides to raise her as her own. thanks love!

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu adopts a new daughter. 

Warnings: mentions of death

Words: 1.7K

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif 

Cold. That was the only thing you could feel. The only thing you had felt for the past several hours, at least. Well, feel in a loose sense of the term. Your limbs were numb, stiff and unable to move. You had been shuffling forward with no real sense of direction for who knows how long now, with no end in sight, no shelter from the elements you were forced to endure.  Your home had been attacked by massive monsters- not quite man, not quite human. You parents had ushered you and your siblings out of your home,  but now you were the last of your family line. One by one, your family had been picked off by your attackers, but each time you had managed to wriggle your way out of the situation. At one point you had even ducked into the woods to escape the beasts, but now that you had returned to the village you didn’t know what landmarks were what; almost everything you could recognise had been destroyed. You did, however, manage to find the Maiden of War, a statue that was in the centre of a roundabout like pathway that tractors and wagons often used. In normal life at least.  Nearby to that, up some stone steps, was a stone door with a carving that frightened most of the children of the village, even with the two reliefs missing. However, this time, the reliefs were there,  and the gateway had opened ever so slightly. Void of hope, and with every other option exhausted, you shuffle towards it, slipping through the crack, and starting up the snow-covered pathway to who knows where. Though, by looking up, you assumed that it lead to the massive castle which loomed over the village and it’s surroundings. 

The trek up there was probably much shorter than it seemed to be. There was a drawbridge that lay over a small, shallow body of water, and your footsteps echo off of it as you cross into a dark and rocky tunnel. It’s very dimly lit- nothing more than wall mounted torches and the fading remaining light to guide your way. You felt your way along to stone wall, the surface cold to the touch, not that you could tell all that much. Eventually, you came to a door. It was tall, much taller than you, although it was only about average height in reality. You pressed all your weight against it, and slowly- oh so slowly- did it creak open. You scurried inside, pushing the door shut once more behind you.  After catching your breath you take a moment to observe your surroundings- you were in a rather lavish room, just large enough to be classed as a hall, with hard, marble floors and a tiny staircase onto a more raised floor. You clamber up them, and notice a rather detailed portrait in front of you, of three beautiful young women, with tied up brown hair, sitting together in what appeared to be a forest or woodland clearing; it was a little bit hard to tell since the women took up most of the picture. You tilted your head slightly as you got lost in the colours and brushstrokes, wondering who these women were and what they did to warrant such a wonderful portrait. Of course, there was a plaque beneath it- most likely holding some of the information you wanted- you couldn’t read it, and it was a little too high for you anyway.

The sound of an opening door somewhere down the hall to your left catches your attention. Without knowing what else to do, you start to walk towards it, staying close to the walls and running your hand slowly along it. You push through a few more doors, before coming to a large hall- occupied with a chair, small table, assorted plants and even a chest of drawers in a corner. Your eyes roam upwards, and this room alone could house the entirety of the village, perhaps two or three times over. You knew the castle was big- it often occupied conversation among the children of the village- but this took your breath away. Not only was it huge, but it was ornate, more ornate than anything you had seen before in your life. One mere trinket from this room alone could have fed your family for at least two months, had they been alive still to see this.  You hear another door close behind you, and you spin round to see if who is there. You can only hope that the residents of this castle take pity on you. But, you see nothing. No one. You’re incredibly confused by this, and you have to glance this way and that to make sure that there’s no one around you. All you can find is a few flies. Wait. There’s more than a few. There’s three whole clouds.  You give a small shriek and duck to the floor, covering your head and face to try and hide away from the bugs, making sure they didn’t get near your face. If they didn’t get near your face, you could pretend they weren’t there at all. 

The only problem was, you could still hear the buzzing of their wings. You felt a few beat against your back, as the sounds began to warp and change. From buzzing and droning to... Laughter? Yes, it was laughter, three different laughs to be exact. Fearfully, you look up from your arms, to see three, rather fearsome looking young women in front of you. In surprise you bury your face into your arms again- if you couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see you, right? The three girls look between one another, slightly confused. Not at your behaviour, but more at how you- a mere child- had managed to get yourself up into the castle. The one standing in the middle,  one with red, oddly shaved hair, crouched down in front of you, tilting her head curiously. She glanced over her shoulder at the other two fly women, who shrugged at her; they didn’t know who you were or how you got into the castle either. “Child?” The one in front of you spoke, her voice like silk to your ears, especially after their piercing laughs and the roars of the Lycans. You shakily lift your head up again, looking up at her with tears of fear starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. She holds her hand out to you, trying to give you a smile of reassurance.  It works to some extent, though you don’t have too much of a choice other than to take the woman’s hand, so you carefully do so. She helps you to your feet, and you see the other two women staring at you. The blonde women looks to the last one, a brunette wearing a yellow variation of the pendant worn by all three. “Go tell mother.” The blonde said to her, to which the brunette burst into a cloud of flies in reply, swooping off down a hall. You give a yelp of surprise, hiding behind the legs of the woman who’s hand you still clutch to. She looks at you, confused for a second. 

She sighs, and starts to tug you along. “Come on.” She urges, rather impatiently, dragging you off down a side hall, where you can hear a couple of voices as you approach another door. The blonde woman pushes the door open, “Mother.” She greets, speaking to someone sitting in a plush, velvety chair. Whoever is sitting down places a crimson glass on a small table in front of her, before getting to her feet. “Well, let’s take a look at the child.” She speaks, and your jaw practically drops at her height. You hardly even reach her knees. You’re not sure whether to remain in awe, or to let the fright and fear set in. She looks down at you, regarding you briefly before starting to smile. “Why... I don’t see why you were so panicked, Cassandra...” She spoke to the brunette stood beside her chair, sent ahead of the other two with you. “Look at her- she poses no threat. It was chance she happened upon us, was it not?” She looked to the woman, who has lowered her head respectfully.  “Yes, mother.” She replied, before moving her gaze over to you again. “What are we to do with her? She is human, what if-” “Ah-ah.” The tall woman interrupts. “No what-ifs.” She says sternly, before turning her attention fully to you. “What happened to your family, little one?” She asks, not bothering to get down on your level. You take a moment to answer, which the Lady of the castle allows, considering you are merely a child, and in a strange new environment. She could understand any fear you may have, she has been there herself in the past.  “The.. The monsters.” You squeak, and the woman hums softly, looking at her three daughters briefly. 

In her mind, you were a child without a family, a child with need of a home and a family. She gave a curt nod to herself, folding her arms over her chest. “Well, then we shall be your new family.” She tells you, and the shock is clear on your face.  “What..?” You whisper, your voice hardly audible to any of the other women in the room.  “We shall be your new family.” She declares proudly again, “These are your new sisters. Bela.” She gestures to the woman still holding loosely onto your hand, with the shaved red hair. “Daniela.” She gestured to the blonde woman on the other side of you, “And Cassandra.” She placed a hand on the shoulder of the girl closest to her. “And you can call me mother.” She smiled brightly at you, stepping forward slightly, and bending down, opening her arms to you. “Come here, child.” She coos to you, as Bela drops your hand. You shuffle towards her, and as soon as you’re close enough, she scoops you up into her arms, resting you against her shoulder, cradling you with a warm smile. “Come now, let us find you a room...” She whispers, and as she starts walking through the seemingly endless maze of hallways you feel yourself drifting off to sleep in the arms of.. Well, your mother. Despite only just meeting her, you feel safe with her and her daughters, your sisters. You knew you’d be happy here, happier than you would be anywhere else, especially in the ruins of the village you once called home. 

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Part two