#distract-ception

[screwpinecaprice]

Distracting myself by drawing someone being distracted.

[mcytblr-archive]

Early MCYTblr Interviews: mcyt-quotes

today's interviewee is mcyt-quotes, one of the first MCYT quotes blogs, member of MCYTblr since SMPLive, and winner of the first MCYTblr elections! below is a transcript of their questions and answers.

Q: To begin with, what was your overall MCYTblr experience like? Does anything particularly stick out to you?

A: it was fun, by and large. a good outlet for me to talk with likeminded people, and a good distraction to get me through my senior years of high school. i’ve been a public figure in a few online fandom spaces, now, and i think what stood out the most in the mcytblr space is the fact that some of the larger blogs were almost treated like mini-content creators themselves ? i got fanart a few times, especially through the whole election fiasco, and i remember there being incorrect quote blogs etc that i would pop up on now and then. i’ve never seen it happen on that scale before - it was odd, but fun in its own way. defiantly gave early-mid MCYTblr its own personality

Q: Speaking of the elections, do you remember what it was like to run in them? I remember that you won, but I'm interested to hear what it was like from your point of view.

A: ahahaha that was an experience. i fully signed up as a joke - i wasn’t very active on discord or very close with many of the other blogs, and i didn’t realise that my follower count was on the higher end of the spectrum, so i didn’t think i had a chance. just wanted to muck around and procrastinate studying for my final exams. things sorta spiralled though - i got hooked up with two bloody fantastic vice candidates (@the-royal-bat-snake and @sosigshoney) who did literally everything, and i also underestimated MCYTblr’s tendency to do it for the bit. i remember my campaign being something to the effect of promising a militia of arsonists, kitten genocide, cannibalism generally, and a total removal of free speech and thought ? and then i was elected and i was like ah fuck, i don’t have time for this. and then suddenly i was in the middle of some vast RP conspiracy that i was mostly asleep through, being Aussie, and very lost

Q: You mentioned that in the MCYT fandom, blogs were treated like smaller content creators-- how was that different from your other fandom experiences, out of curiosity?

A: so that sort of environment has popped up in other fandom spaces that i’ve been in - most obvious would be (and i want no judgement) the instagram DC and Marvel comics community, where i spent a few years running a large page. there were definitely elements of it - pages would get memes dedicated to them, etc. but lore ? i’ve never seen that before. i think it might be something about the nature of MCYT - aspects of the fandom, especially post Dream SMP (when this behaviour became most common) was built on mythologising people. not in the sense of worshipping them, but more so in the sense of fitting them into fictional narratives, just like the Dream SMP. and the blog owners themselves were primed to happily accept RP scenarios (something which has historically been seen as ‘cringe’), particularly those which blend absurdism and emotion. so the prison blogs, the election and subsequent RP, the penis SMP, the incorrect quotes blogs dedicated to fandom blogs (literally fandom-ception) came pretty naturally

idk, with more and time and reflection there’s probably something interesting there - Dream SMP was pretty unique in it’s time, and tumblr (especially post 2012) is a unique platform, so it makes sense they combined like that

Q: That makes me wonder, too-- it hasn't come up much before this, but I think it's an important aspect to examine: Do you think that large numbers of people (especially younger ones) being quarantined contributed to the intense/fast-paced fandom?

A: oh absolutely. it was pretty crazy to watch as a (semi) outsider. i joined the fandom in 2019, when it was Very small on tumblr - there maybe three other blogs i could follow who were MCYT related ? and then Covid hit and it bloody exploded. as i’ve mentioned, i was in my final year of high school, plus my town was only quarantined for a small period of time, so i didn’t really get that classic quarantine experience of having nothing to do. but christ, you could tell that so many people were spending practically their whole lives living through MCYT. and i don’t think that was a bad thing - it was clearly a great experience for a lot of people. but that’s why you had things popping up like the high school au blog dedicated to other MCYTblr blogs (where i think i was actually used as some evil class president or something ?? idk), which you would Not have seen in any other environment, i reckon

and i cannot stress your fast paced comment enough - every time i woke up it felt like heaps of astronomical events had happened in the few hours of USA timezone that had passed

it was fun - i felt like a long suffering older cousin at some points, but i don’t mind. that’s part of why i leaned into the election RP - if i could be as evil as possible, i gave them something to have fun with

Q: Now that you mention it, it's really interesting how that played out almost exactly as it did in the DSMP itself! A less-invested party coming in with a cartoonishly evil plan and winning the election to be played off of in roleplay, it's amazing how it worked out like that.

A: ahaha and it wasn’t lost on people at the time !! i was known for quite a while afterwards as a Schlatt-kinnie, which i was happy to lean into. a lot of the plot after that was lost on me - it was my two vice’s that i mentioned before and the rest of the cabinet which really carried things, and i would just pop in whenever i happened to be awake to endorse kitten genocide or something like that then go back to studying. but i’m pretty sure it did continue to trace the DSMP for a while afterwards - i banned the cult party [silverfish2020], so they were pretty quick to form a rebellion group, while i just continued to make worse and worse decisions. to be honest, though, it eventually spiralled out of control - i was taking it so laissez-faire that i forgot some people were genuinely invested, and while i forget details i definitely genuinely pissed a few people off at some point. i remember pretty vividly at one point someone made a post where they said they were worried i was going to doxx them or something like that (?) and i was like damn, this shits more serious than i thought it was. so i arranged to have my character assassinated and noped out - i couldn’t tell you what happened after that (or, frankly, before it). honestly, if you’re interested in niche fandom history though there’s probably something interesting in what went down - worth looking into if you’re bored

Q: Do you remember any other 'Big MCYTblr events'? It's alright if you don't remember what happened during them-- if you can't recall, I'll use them to ask around for people who participated!

A: i don’t rlly remember any other events…i know they happened, but i really had no interest in getting involved beyond answering whatever asks i would get about them. the election from memory was the first Big one (unless prom was first ? idk they were close together) and after that i was very happy to let Quotes as a character die, and i mostly ignored them

plus, it was about that time i started leaving the fandom - maybe a month or so later. by that point the community was Big, and moving fast, and a lot of drama had begun to leak in. you’ve covered some of the controversial blogs etc, and while i didn’t care about them personally they were indicative that the fandom space was different. combine that with me moving out of home and starting university, and i pretty much shut the blog down

Q: What led you to create the mcyt-quotes blog in the first place?

A: ummm i reckon just to have somewhere to talk about minecraft monday. there wasn’t a very dedicated fan base, and fuck knows i wasn’t gonna be talking about minecraft irl in a public aussie high school (i don’t have a death wish) so it just gave me somewhere to collect my thoughts. nothing interesting 🤷‍♀️

Q: Now that you mention it-- what are some of your most memorable moments from Minecraft Monday, whether from creators or the fandom?

A: ahhhhh there were some good ones. the fandom was deeply toxic during minecraft monday, but in a fun way - it felt sorta like following a sport more than anything. a niche reference here, but it felt the same as being a fan of australia’s soccer leagues - everyone hates each other, the organisers are greedy pricks who have no idea what’s going on, and there’s a new, entirely avoidable catastrophe happening every week. i think top moments include: the /top incident, where the fandom was divided after a scandal where Techno used an exploit to beat Vikkstar in an arena game; the a6d beef, where a6d was banned for not having enough viewers and then snuck back in and got into twitter drama with Keemstar; the week were Carson tried to sabotage Techno, leading to some of the most awkward moments possible and resulting in a lot of hate for the guy when he was otherwise still popular; week 7, where literally everything that could be broken was broken; James Charles getting adopted by the Minecraft community after his first cancelling but before everything that went down afterwards; and week 14, where a hacker griefed the arena, destroyed the event, and then accidentally doxxed himself while streaming it all. a fitting end

the main outlet for MCYT back then was actually reddit - there was a very active MCM subreddit which had a ton of statistics etc. the fandom was very into statistics back then, and actually analysing who would be a threat. that increased even more when serious esports players were added to the mix, like XQC and T1yler. they brought the toxic sweaty gamer energy to the competition, and the MC youtubers generally found them hilarious

it’s actually funny how much the vibe of the fandom changes depending on what’s most popular - MCM felt like sports fans, SMPEarth felt like historians, and DSMP was a giant role play arena

Q: Were you a part of the subreddit? (And, if so-- was it any different from MCYT Tumblr?)

A: yeah, i was crazy active on that subreddit !! i was always rooting for either Techno, Schlatt, or James Charles - Techno because he permanently dominated, Schlatt cause i was a casual SMPLive fan, and JC for the meme - and because at the time he was pretty widely accepted, since people loved that he genuinely seemed to get into the competition. funnily, the only time i’ve seen this competitive energy recreated was in the Techno vs Dream duel (which i also got way too competitive about). MCM was the first serious introduction of old school MC youtubers to the new generation - it was fun seeing all the classics slowly come around to Techno when they realised he wasn’t a sweat he was just good, or seeing them try to navigate conversations with the SMPLive gang when the old guard was still trying to be family friendly. the best week was actually Week 14, when a collection of old MCYTbers and new MCYTbers (and James Charles) decided fuck it and went to play on Hypixel for a few hours. it was great. i was also, later, very active on the SMPEarth wiki (the main hub for the fandom in those days) - that place is a gem to this day, and i’m not just saying that because i wrote far too much of it

Q: As time went on, did you see the culture of the fandom shift? What was it like to watch?

A: it shifted a Lot between different phases. even the demographic changed, at different points. you would be hard pressed to imagine that the fans of SMPLive were the same as DSMP, even though there was overlap in creators. even something more recent, like SMPEarth to DSMP - totally different vibe. you can see aspects that influenced each other, though - for example, the SMPE fandom’s obsession with making flags for different factions and putting factions at war with each other absolutely led into the establishment of L’Manburg. then Eret had his betrayal moment, and it turned from SMPE style war roleplay (which you would have on SMPLive, even, for example with the Stal conflict) to actual personal role play, where there were characters separate from the content creators. that division had never been identified before. that was when u started to see a lot of the mainstay parts of today’s fandom pop up - e.g. the c! vs cc! shorthand, or the constant division of content creators onto duos or other groups, and (of course) the shipping debates started up. they had always been there, especially in the Dream side of the fandom (which evolved spiritually from the Skeppy side, imo, which had similar debates) but they Really blew up with DSMP

that’s sort of when i stepped out - nothing against that style of fandom, it’s just not for me

Q: I've heard a lot of people who were in 2019-2020 MCYTblr say that the fandom was a lot more close-knit during that time-- was that your experience of it, too?

A: very much so. it was inevitable, we were a small bunch. i wouldn’t go so far as to say that everyone knew everyone, but everyone definitely had a mutual friend. i mean, hell, even connections to the creators were common - a lot of people on stuff like love or host were fans themselves. of course, looking back at the way that power was abused by certain creators paints it in a different light, but at the time it was fun

Q: Are there any fandom in-jokes, copypastas, running bits, or anything similar that you can remember from your time in the fandom?

A: too many to name. most of them id get in my inbox and just be confused, tbh, like the Kroger anon or some of the kinnies. i’ll try to go through some pre-DSMP era ones from the top of my head. the Hey Wilbur copypasta was cursed, as was SMPRompa (which i actually read the first couple chapters of, out of morbid curiosity. it was an experience). Stal, of course, was iconic in its time, as was the cuck shed. there was Keemstar being referred to as a gnome, his beef with the Skeppy gang, the ‘I could kiss you’ incident, ‘Hey Technoblade’. Jschlatt’s love or host bit where he was a closeted, deeply christian man made the rounds. Technoplane, of course. the Carson crying meme, and Gumball killing James Charles. Petezahutt dropping MCM to spite Keemstar, and Keemstar lying about it. ‘Preston is rusty’ was a classic MCM era meme, after the two fucking dominated. the sheer amount of times MCM got hacked was a bit of an in-joke, as was who actually won week 7 (to this day we didn’t know)

Q: Alright, and last one! Is there anything else you can remember/want archived, or any comments about MCYTblr as a whole?

A: ummmm i don’t think so ! i’ve said pretty much everything that immediately comes to mind. definitely an interesting fandom - one of the most unique i’ve seen. i appreciate your account a lot ! it’s funny to see old posts pop up again

[hardcoregamer]

10 Best Minigames In Video Games

There are quite a few games out there that are so confident their core gameplay is a smash hit that they will assign resources elsewhere to create games within their games. Game-ception, if you will. These games tend to be fun distractions that range from quick little asides to full-scale complex tactical wars, and most of them have more polish than they have any right to.

Take a look!

[arcaneyouth]

Here’s some oc questions:

Which oc do you think is underrated?

Do any of your characters have their own characters like a writer?

How do they process grief, why do you think that way or processing grief is interesting/fun to write? -character of choice

What was the baby plushie they had as a child? -Character of choice

oh these are some fucking good questions thank you

I have 2 definitions of underrated, first is i dont think other people appreciate them enough, second is i dont appreciate them enough and i know it. for the first definition, i think death in the deathspeaker is very underrated, he is so interesting and funny. this is a previously unknown god who decided to work as a teacher at a school on top of his job as Death and has not told anyone why. he knew dara personally before this even happened. he keeps up with all the latest dank memes and thinks they're one of humanities greatest inventions. he just wants his friends to be safe but its hard when he's not technically supposed to interfere. i like him <3 as for the second definition, half of the deathspeaker kids and merrick from iamos, im so fucking sorry to them the kids were hard to make interesting especially when the plot shifted to focus on dara and the demon, and merrick has never had a solid personality the entire time ive had them. *pounding fists on floor crying* im sorry beloveds,,,,

theron does! i think joe also does! this isnt something i bother with a lot because i dont care enough to think about it tbh. i dont need to get several layers deep into oc-ception AFHSJGDJG

VERY FUCKING GOOD QUESTION, SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE DEATHSPEAKER. IM AVOIDING SPECIFICS BUT STILL, SPOILERS AHEAD. april's grief has been *very* fun to write. when no ones sure whether or not joe is ok, there's kind of a lot of grief happening with his friend group. dara and lily are hit so bad, and april? ...doesn't outwardly show it much. she bottles up every ounce of grief and focuses on helping everyone else, very much at the cost of herself. and because she's kind of like,,, the most emotionally stable of the group, its hard to notice shes dealing with it like that. she'll be there to help the others process their grief and won't allow herself a moment to think about it herself. she's so disconnected from herself when others talk about it. but helping is good, its what shes there for, and sometimes its distracting, so she just doesnt stop. because she's supposed to be strong and good at this. i think she's just an interesting contrast with the other forms of grief i write in the deathspeaker. a lot of the grief i write focuses on the anger. sadness and anger is a very cathartic combo to write about, so thats what most of them go through. but april gets toxic positivity and hard work. she doesnt even cry. she doesnt let herself feel any of it, she smiles and keeps going like nothing has changed. its interesting.

i like to think kazooie was one of those kids that got so many plushies he might as well have gotten a separate bed for them to make room for himself. all of them video game characters of course <3

[drewoclock]

Commentism

Originally published October 27th, 2014

One day, the inventor of the Internet had a brilliant idea.

"My goodness... It's genius!" "WHAT IS IT, PROFESSOR STINKLES." "Why Bebop4000, my robot companion, do you know how people are always remarking things to each other?  Sharing their thoughts about a central thing?" "YES PROFESSOR STINKLES I AM NOT A DUMBASS." "Well, what if, when somebody puts something on the Internet, other people--can REMARK about it?!" "THAT IS A WEIRD QUESTION.  HOW WILL YOU DO IT." "I'll create a--a little box!  And in the box, people can write a comment.  And they can make more and more comment boxes!" "CANNOT COMPUTE." *massive explosion*

And despite their untimely deaths, this idea of comments indeed became a thing.  But I don't think anyone expected it to become as glorious as it did.

YOU get a comment!  YOU get a comment!

...hmm, that wasn't--well, anyway, there's reviewing products, there's commentating on live events, but in the comments section on the Internet, you've got a global bathroom wall where everyone can read and participate at any time while taking a giant dump.  And some people have really found their calling with comments, because they're fantastic at it.

I was supposed to be a fighter pilot.

...Alright, that needs to stop, whatever that is.  ANYWAY, these certain commenters make reading comments a form of entertainment.  It could be one person or a whole group of people, and the possibilitites are endless.  With timing, grace, finesse, and maybe a diaper or something, these commenters essentially create literature: A dialogue that can stand on its own from the very thing that's being commented on.  Comments imitating art, if you will.

Yes, I'm sure the infinite contributions of "fake and gay" would make a fine book.

Hey, if Kim Kardashian can make a book about her selfies, anything is possible.

please buy my book guys, its all the times i accidentally took a screenshot on my phone

EVERYBODY CALM THE FUCK DOWN I'M TRYING TO TALK.  So YES, THESE kinds of COMMENTS are VERY ENTERTAINING, and I've even indulged in making them myself.  But I've noticed an interesting phenomenon.

Soylent Green is people!

SHUT THE FUCK UP.  THE PHENOMENON is that these COMMENTS are BECOMING THEIR OWN POSTS.  I look at these expansive constructions of commentary and think that they themselves should be a separate piece with their own comment boxes.

Comment-ception.

BUUUUUUUMMM.

You have to write a comment in one minute that takes two minutes to read.

It's two minutes to write, one minute to read, dumbass.

Go home, you're drunk.

Is that why somebody called him a BUM?

Guys, alcoholism is a serious problem.

Yeah, come on guys, you're bumming me out.

The road to recovery is a bumpy one.

I recorded twelve songs about my own experience as an alcoholic.  You can buy it on my brand new album.

I am a bum.  am I doing this right?

Alcohol is a serious probum.

I actually think I may be onto something there.  In fact, and I'm totally serious, I had an idea for a social network specifically for comments.  But I'm getting off track.  My point is that with all this focus on comments, sometimes you lose sight of the original post.  And I know some of these original posts encourage this comment spectacle, and some people don't mind what happens to their posts, but you know what?  I kind of do.  Call it controversial, but I think some posts should be spared the comment circus.

Is the op trying to reclaim control of his own post?

ITS A TRAP.

If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.

Hahahaha, Star Wars, it's funny because it's a reference, what I'm trying to get at here is that perhaps we should use more discretion when commenting.  Maybe take a look at these original posts and decide whether they might be important enough to deserve their own attention?  Hell, I've had a lot of important posts I've made that have been subject to comments that have distracted people.  I even used to do the same thing to other people.  I love comments, but I think there are some posts that are too important for this parading of comments.  Dare I say it, I am a COMMENT ACTIVIST.  COMMENTISM.

#Kony2012

#GamerGate

#StopYellowFever

#KKK

#sicsemptertyranis

#MenAre#1

#But there's two sides to commentism.  I've made many frivolous posts which have been commented on.  I've watched the comments get more likes than my own post, and its always (to my surprise) really upset me.  It's people essentially declaring that they prefer what someone else said over what I said.  That my content is inferior.  And you know what?  That's a bummer for me, but what's wrong with it?  There's no rule that my original post should be considered better than comments made on it, and there shouldn't be.  Hell, I've made comments on posts that wound up more popular.  Comments may bother me, but just because something was based off of another thing doesn't mean it can't be as great, or even greater.  Dare I say it, I am a COMMENT ACTIVIST.  COMMENTISM.

tl;dr

what are you doing making words?  this is AMERICA

*eagle dives into pool of fireworks*

'MURICA

Morocco?

'MUROCCO

*Moroccan eagle dives into pool of Moroccan fireworks*

SO TO SUM THINGS UP I think comments are grand.  I think that sometimes comments seem right when they're actually out of place, and I think that sometimes comments seem wrong when they're actually fine as they are.  I think this is all something that people really don't consider much because people don't take comments seriously.  But let's face it, a lot of us pay attention to comments.  We notice them more than we think.  So maybe this commentism thing is worth your time.  After all, we're all commenters.  We're all in this race together.  And as long as we're racing, we may as well finish it in...

...

Come on guys, I literally set this one up for you.

FOURTH.

SECOND.

EIGHTY-THIRD.

PI.

SECOND.

ONE HALF.

NEGATIVE EIGHTY-THIRD.

Oh, comments.

[charismaquark]

ugh. hate when i’m planning to do something with my day and then suddenly realize it’s 1 AM.

[draze-a]

Ace: Okay Tech, what's up with you and Rev running around everywhere with all sorts of different stuff?

Tech, carrying a box of stuff: Oh that? Every April 1st Rev and Rip try to out prank each other, so this year Rev is having me help with an extremely elaborate one.

Ace, grabbing something from the box: one that involves dynamite?!

Tech: Oh that's to hide the lack of a body.

Ace: Wait...lack of a-

Rev, dashing in and interrupting: Okay-so-I've-got-Duck-on-board-and-he-says-he-knows-a-guy-that-can-make-fake-fake-IDs-and_another-guy-who-can-help-make-Rip-think-he's-stowing-away-on-a-plane-but-we-still-need-a-3rd-prank-to-cover-up-the-2nd-prank-distracting-him-from-the-real-prank-and-am-I-interupting-something?

Ace: You two are planning a prank-ception? Without ME?!

______________________

Don't go to crazy with April Fools people.

[the12thnightproject]

What Dreams May Come

Characters: Hideyoshi and Mitsunari (main); Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Masamune, Mai, Kitty (background)

Prompts: English Regency/Napoleonic Wars AU, Blindfold

Requested by: @cheese-ception

Warnings: battlefield (memories); PTSD; temporary blindness; angst; otherwise SFW; and also maybe read the previous explanatory post first...

But I promise a happy ending!

Word Count: 4200

In the haze of smoke, a tattered Union Jack flutters in his field of vision, moved by a breeze that does nothing to sweep away the battlefield stink of sulfur and sweat, of blood and rotting bodies. He hears only the shouting of his fellow soldiers, constant booms, whistling of bullets, ‘watch out, Major’; feels nothing except a yank on his arm, before a cannonball lands with a crashing bang, where he had been standing a moment earlier. The explosion sends everyone flying backwards, and he lands face first in the fetid mud. Under the hot sun, it all blurs together, except for the smell. That smell will follow him to his grave.

“Hideyoshi.” There was firm hand gently shaking his shoulder. The Duke’s voice. “Wake up.”

The battlefield retreated to the edge of his consciousness, to lurk in the past, replaced by the sensation of polished mahogany and a sharp letter opener under his cheek… and a cramp in his neck likely to linger for hours. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again. Hideyoshi sat up instantly, as realization beget embarrassment, but Nobunaga’s gaze revealed neither censure nor sympathy. He rubbed his cheek, feeling the indentation of the ornate silver handle of the letter opener. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

“I’m less concerned about your sleeping at your desk and more about-” Nobunaga slanted a glance at the mantle clock – it was long past midnight, “the fact that you didn’t take yourself off to bed hours ago. Since I know I am not overworking you, I’m left to wonder about your competence.” 

If he thought he was going to be able to escape with just this gentle chiding, Hideyoshi was soon proven wrong, for instead of saying his piece and leaving, Nobunaga poured himself a glass of brandy, settled himself into a wingback chair, and gave every indication that he intended to stay and chat. Still wearing his crisp tailcoat and cravat, he was the very picture of a gentleman in repose.

“I was putting the finishing touches on your speech for Parliament.” It was the truth, but not the reason. Unlike Hamlet, he had little to fear ‘what dreams may come’ of death’s nightmares. The ones that visited while he was living were bad enough.

“If you’re going to have nightmares, why not have them in the comfort of your own room?” Nobunaga swirled the brandy, while Hideyoshi wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud. Or had Nobunaga picked up Mitsuhide’s irritating habit of reading faces? The third possibility - that Nobunaga also suffered from them was discounted entirely. Nobunaga was too strong for that.

When the silence stretched on too long, past awkward, into, simply silence, Nobunaga gestured to the pages strewn across the desk that had so recently been Hideyoshi’s pillow. “As it’s the cause of tonight’s late hours, might as well let me see it.”

Hideyoshi handed over the speech, and Nobunaga settled in to read it, with not even a hm or a mrrm to let reveal his thoughts on it. Instead, Hideyoshi was left in a near silence broken by a ticking clock, and the distraction of a worn spot in the Aubusson rug that would likely need to be sent out for repair. As Nobunaga was still reading over the speech, Hideyoshi made a note to alert the housekeeper.

“The conditions of the returning soldier? That’s what you believe I should be championing?” Nobunaga sharpened a pen and marked out a few lines. “I’m not such a firebrand – tame your, or rather, my metaphors, and it will do.” He tossed the papers back onto the desk. “You should run for parliament yourself.”

“The House of Commons? I couldn’t.” Even though even a couple years ago – before Napoleon had stomped his boots all over Europe, it had been his very wish. He’d had ideas… plans. Dreams. But now, Nobunaga was far better placed to see those plans through, while Hideyoshi even had trouble planning what to wear each day.

“You could – if you stopped feeling guilty for-”

SCREEEEE

Though it was rude, Hideyoshi pushed his chair back with such force that it probably scratched the floor (possibly that was how the rug had become worn to begin with) and jumped to his feet. “You’re correct. I should be in bed. I’ll likely be fresher in the morning.”

Nobunaga, having gotten his teeth into the topic, wasn’t going to let it go so easily. “Mitsunari made his own choices. I’m certain he doesn’t blame you for-”

Twice in the same conversation, twice more than he ever had in the past, Hideyoshi interrupted Nobunaga. “If I hadn’t paid for his colors, convinced him he was needed, he’d safely be in some quiet vicarage.”

Nobunaga held his glass up to the light as if looking into a crystal ball. “While the image of a string of apple cheeked country maids haunting the doors of a church to get a glimpse of their angelic curate is amusing, you know as well as I that he would have made a terrible preacher. He’d never remember which day was Sunday and then spend Tuesday mornings looking out at row upon row of empty pews and wondering if his whole congregation had fled town.”

Hideyoshi’s brain supplied the sarcastic response ‘at least he’d be able to see that’ though again he kept the words unspoken, and this time, if Nobunaga read the words on his face, he didn’t remark on it. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Do try to sleep, monkey.” The words floated after his retreating back.

Though he ought to have heeded that advice, Hideyoshi bypassed his rooms and as had become habit, he continued to the end of the corridor. Only to ensure himself that at this hour, Mitsunari had everything he needed.

That first week after their return from the continent, Mitsunari had awakened every night. Confused in the darkness, he had nearly set the house on fire as he tried to light an already burning lamp. As time went on, Mitsunari had become accustomed to his new circumstances, and if he woke in the darkness, he’d never mentioned it.

Did Mitsunari ever dream now? Were the dreams bright and colorful? Was waking up the nightmare for him that sleeping was for Hideyoshi? Again, there hadn’t been a word of complaint or self-pity from the younger man. Then again, Mitsunari never had been the sort to complain.

Carefully, Hideyoshi eased open the door to Mitsunari’s room. A footman had left the candles in the wall sconce burning – perhaps out of laziness, perhaps out of misguided comfort – and the room was bathed in an amber glow. Mitsunari slept, apparently peacefully, a fresh bandage wrapped around his sightless eyes. The young man was on his side, and he clutched something in his arms… a pillow?

No.

It was a book.

Unable to watch any more, Hideyoshi retreated to his rooms. The nightmare, (watch out, Major!) was all but certain to make another visit.

The following morning, after an early cross-country ride that was not fast enough to erase the lingering miasma of the battlefield from his consciousness, Hideyoshi fed his panting horse an apple while one of the grooms removed its saddle. The man didn’t need any company, but Hideyoshi felt… reluctant to return to the house. Strange. He’d never in the past shirked his responsibilities but since their return … his days felt like they were spent underwater, and even taking more than a few steps sometimes felt like too much effort. He would push past that though. Always had, always would.

To wake himself up, he ran his fingers over his horse’s nose, and it whuffled in appreciation. The warmth of its body pulsed under his hand, almost as if the animal was trying to loan him some energy.

Then a piece of straw hit him in the face.

And another…

Something was scuffling above him.

He eyed the hayloft, already primed to give a lecture if he discovered one of the stableboys dallying with a dairy maid. The groom followed his gaze. “Kittens.” At Hideyoshi’s unspoken ‘go on,’ the groom continued. “Molly’s latest litter. Over the last week, they’ve been venturing all over the stables.” He nodded at the corner of an empty stall, where a grey and white tabby was snoozing, likely taking a well-earned break from her brood.

Kittens.

Without questioning the impulse, Hideyoshi climbed the ladder until he was halfway into the loft. Five kittens tumbled over each other, chasing dust motes and straw, and bouncing into and off of the wall. One tiny all-grey furball pranced over to him and batted his nose. “Are they weaned?” He extended his hand to the little creature and was rewarded when it began to gnaw on his fingers.

“Should be. Why? Do you want to keep one?” The groom glanced at the mama cat and shrugged. “I’m sure Molly’s ready to be rid of them.”

“Yes.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he planned to do with the kitten.

Later that morning, with a freshly brushed (courtesy of a cooing in-between maid) kitten squirming in his arms, Hideyoshi found Mitsunari on his customary bench in the back garden. Prior to his injury, Mitsunari could – and often had – spend hours in his room or the library reading, but everyone had agreed (well Ieyasu had prescribed, and no one had dared argue with the prickly doctor) that fresh air and the sun’s warmth would be good for him, so now a footman would lead him outside every morning.

Mitsunari had his bandaged eyes tilted toward the sky as Hideyoshi approached. An artist would likely be thrilled to paint a picture of the young man, basking in the sun, surrounded by lavender and climbing hydrangea. He looked to be at peace, with a spring breeze ruffling his unruly hair. In his lap, the same book that he had slept with the night before. At the sound of Hideyoshi’s footsteps, Mitsunari turned toward him and smiled. “Good morning, Major.”

“I sold out weeks ago – you don’t have to use my rank any longer.” He’d never had to, not in private anyway, but Mitsunari had always said it was easier to use the title all the time, than to try to remember when he did and didn’t need to. “You can call me by my given name.”

“It feels… impolite. I will do my best though. Major. Sir.” Mitsunari’s fingers soothed the covers of the book, each brisk movement feeling like an accusation.

He wanted to ask Mitsunari why he’d brought it along when he couldn’t see it, but at the same time Hideyoshi didn’t want to bring up the topic. Not when they were all waiting, trapped between hope and resignation, to discover what the verdict would be when Ieyasu returned to remove the bandage.

Having decided she’d had enough of Hideyoshi, the kitten let out an annoyed squeak. Then… she bit him. Again.

“Was that a cat?” (Nothing wrong with his friend’s hearing).

“Yes. The stables were overrun with them, so I thought…” I thought you might like her. I thought a kitten might be an adequate replacement for your eyes, for the books you can no longer read.  It… was a ridiculous thought. As if one cat could compensate for the loss of vision. Too late to backtrack now.

Besides, Mitsunari had already opened his arms, so Hideyoshi carefully placed the fluffball in his lap. With gentle hands, Mitsunari stroked her soft fur and almost immediately, the kitten let out a rumbling purr, almost too loud for her tiny body. Well. Females. Mitsunari had always affected them like that. “Good morning, kitty… it seems friendly.”

Hideyoshi had a couple scratches to prove otherwise, but the kitten seemed content in Mitsunari’s company. “She. The tweeny checked.”

“She. Were you going to give her to Mai?” He felt around behind him and broke off a spring of lavender from the clump edging the path. He dangled the sprig over the kitten, who batted at it with her tiny paws.  

That would be the natural assumption, but Hideyoshi doubted Nobunaga’s ward would have time for the cat now that she was preparing for her debut season. Well, Hideyoshi was certain Mai would give it her best effort, but it wouldn’t be fair to the kitten to get it used to Azuchi Castle, then cart her all the way to the London residence for a few months. “No. Actually, I thought…” Again, the explanation stuck in his throat. “Do you want her?”

Mitsunari was quiet for a long time, appearing to think it over. But he smiled down at the kitten as she rubbed her face across his hands. Encouraged, Hideyoshi added, “She seems to like you. Definitely more than she likes me.”

“I like her too.” The words were almost too soft to be heard. His hands easily found the underside of the kitten’s chin, and he tickled her lightly.

“Good then. I’ll have the housekeeper set some things up in your room.” Along the far side of the wall, where Mitsunari would be least likely to trip over them. The little in-between maid would likely be happy to feed her. Thrilled even, at the opportunity to get away from chamber pots and to spend time with Mitsunari and the kitten.

With a wide yawn, the kitten stretched, knocking the book out of Mitsunari’s lap. Hideyoshi caught it automatically read the title out loud. “Art of War.”

Mitsunari nodded. “I’ve read it before, so I can see the pages and words in my head.” No stumbling over the word ‘see’ like any of the visitors to Azuchi had. “But I like to keep the rhythm of turning the pages when I reread it.”

Interesting. Hideyoshi had always known that Mitsunari had an excellent memory, but he hadn’t… “I didn’t know it worked that way.”

“I was eight when I discovered that nobody else stores vast libraries in their head.” Out of either politeness, or habit, Mitsunari turned his face toward Hideyoshi.

Now trapped in a conversation that could become awkward at any moment, Hideyoshi settled on the bench, placing the book down between himself and Mitsunari. “Is it the same when someone reads to you? Can you still re-read it later?”

“The words appear inside my head while I listen… when I want to go over them again, they… unspool. Like thread.” Mitsunari made a rolling gesture with his hand, presumably to demonstrate the unspooling. “I hear the reader’s voice too.”

“I’m certain that Nobunaga would approve finding a reader for you.” Or two. Three even. People with soothing, interesting voices. Hideyoshi vowed to listen to every single candidate, to find ones with melodious voices, readers who sounded pleasant, even if they’d been reading for hours. And of course, only ones who would be able to read the most advanced texts without stumbling over unfamiliar words or concepts.

“That’s kind of you… and his grace, of course. But it’s not necessary.” Mitsunari had found the spot on the kitten’s body that sent it instantly into kitty bliss. “Ieyasu seems certain this,” he touched the bandage that doubled as a blindfold, “is only temporary.”

What Ieyasu had said was that it could be temporary, which, if Mitsunari could see words in his head, he knew full well. But if he was choosing to keep hope until the final diagnosis… was that better? Was it better to have several weeks of hope before disappointment? Or better to be prepared for a final blow? If it had been himself, Hideyoshi would like to be prepared. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Mitsunari ruffled the kitten’s fur. “For sticking me with this cat? She’s a nice cat.”

“For… this wouldn’t have happened to you, if it were not for me.” The apology he ought to have given weeks ago came tumbling out. “I feel responsible.”

Now Mitsunari did frown. “I don’t understand how you can think that. You didn’t fire that cannon. The French did. And I don’t blame them either.” He fumbled around and found the book again… tapped lightly on the cover. “Art… of War”

Watch out, Major!

“You saved my life… and your reward was this injury.” Maybe Mitsunari saw words in his head. What  Hideyoshi saw, unspooling like a thread, was the moment Mitsunari pushed him aside as a cannon ball exploded in front of them… then among the smoke and the sulfur, the vision of his subaltern, his friend, lying on the ground, knocked flat by the resultant blast. It had taken nearly a day for Mitsunari to regain consciousness, to open his eyes… and ask why it was pitch black in the tent. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“I saved your life. My reward was your life.” Mitsunari’s frown was still evident. “This temporary loss of vision is a small price to pay. My duty as a soldier was to protect my commanding officer. You treat me as a younger brother… but please, give me the credit of making my own choices fully aware of the potential cost.”

Of course, Mitsunari would say that. He had always been a creature of logic. “You would not have been in Belgium, were it not for me.”

Mitsunari shook his head. “I would have found a way – taken the king’s shilling and joined the infantry. My father considered me bound for the church, but … the thought of giving a sermon? I would rather face a hundred French soldiers every day for the rest of my life.”

The duke had said something similar… that Mitsunari didn’t blame him, had never considered blaming him. To push the issue would be an insult. Still, Hideyoshi couldn’t look at Mitsunari without a rush of an emotion that he could only identify as guilt, and its weight grew heavier every day.

“In any case,” Mitsunari continued. “You would have done the same if it had been Nobunaga.”

Yes. But, that was different. Nobunaga had goals, plans… someday… possibly soon he could even become Prime Minister. Hideyoshi was simply his steward. He had no goals other than to ensure that Nobunaga achieved his.

Seeming to think he had closed the conversation, Mitsunari indicated the kitten. “Her name ought to be Kitty.” With his lips quirked into a half smile, the only indication of those rare times when he told a joke, Mitsunari asked, “Does she look like a kitty to you?”

“I suppose so.” There was probably a joke to be batted back to him, but Hideyoshi couldn’t think of one.

“Kitty.” Experimentally, Mitsunari addressed her, and she let out a little chirrup as if that settled the matter. “In any case, we can ask Ieyasu’s opinion – he’s good at naming things.”

Not that Hideyoshi had noticed. “By the time he gets here, Kitty will be too attached to her name to alter it.”

Mitsunari tilted his head in the direction of the house. “He’s here now. Masamune too.”

About to correct him – Ieyasu wasn’t due to arrive until next week, and Masamune was up at his estate in Scotland – but Mitsunari was right. Hideyoshi could now hear their voices, good naturedly arguing (well, good natured on Masamune’s part anyway) as a footman led them into the back garden. The footman noted that His Grace had been told of the visitors’ arrival and would join them momentarily.

“Well, Lad,” Masamune said, as he greeted Mitsunari with a friendly slap on his back. “Admit it. You were so jealous of the allure of the eye patch that you had to go and double it.”

Bristling, Hideyoshi prepared to defend Mitsunari, but the ‘lad’ laughed at Masamune’s joke. So, instead, he turned his attention Ieyasu. “You made good time. We weren’t expecting you for a few more days.”

“Date came down to consult with his man of business about something, and he offered me a place in his curricle.” He sent a glare at their Scottish friend. “Which, I will never take him up on again. He drives like a madman.”

Hm. Ieyasu’s hair was standing on end more than usual, and there was a greenish tinge to his complexion that matched his eyes. Hideyoshi could well believe that Masamune’s neck-or-nothing riding style would transfer to his driving.

Masamune made a dismissive sound. “What’s the use of having fast horses if you don’t let them have their heads on a decent highway?”

“Thank you, Ieyasu. I’m glad you wanted to see me sooner.” Though Ieyasu rolled his eyes at Mitsunari’s interpretation, he didn’t correct him, Hideyoshi noted.

By this time, Nobunaga had made his way out to the garden as well, and he was soon followed by Mai, who was greeted enthusiastically by Masamune and less so by Ieyasu. Predictably, she cooed over the kitten, then settled herself next to Mitsunari while the servants carted out some light refreshments.

It seemed like everyone wanted to be around when Ieyasu removed the bandages. Even the servants were lurking at the edges of the garden. Mitsunari was a favorite with all of them.

“We’re almost all together again,” Mai said, sounding satisfied at that prospect.

“I could ask Wellington to recall Mitsuhide and Keiji from whatever missions he’s got them carrying out on the continent.” Nobunaga said it so casually, as if it was as easy as snapping his fingers to ask the commander of the British army for a favor. For Nobunaga… it probably was.

“That’s … really not necessary,” Hideyoshi assured him. Masamune was more than enough to cause a disturbance in the household without adding Mitsuhide or Keiji to the mix.

Lightly touching the bandage, Mitsunari asked the question that no one else had the courage to. “It is time now? To remove this?”

“Inside.” Ieyasu waved his hand in the direction of the sun. “Too bright out here.”

There seemed to be a general inclination to move en mass into the house, but Hideyoshi shook himself out of his numbed state. “Mitsunari… do you want everyone around you?”

“Just you, Major.” He handed the cat off to Mai. “And Ieyasu, of course.”

Moment of truth then. Hideyoshi realized he felt more nervous than Mitsunari appeared to be. Then again, Mitsunari was confident that when the bandages were removed, he’d be able to see again.

Rather than use the footman, Hideyoshi took over the job of leading Mitsunari back into the house, conscious of everything on the path that might trip his friend up. Behind them, he could hear Masamune teasing Mai about something pertaining to her debut, likely just nonsense to distract them while they waited.

He considered taking Mitsunari into the library – it had been his favorite room. But if the blindness turned out to not be temporary, would the smell of books and paper be too much of a reminder of the loss? Upon reflection, the study appeared the better choice, as its position on the west side of the castle meant it was naturally darker in there anyway. He settled Mitsunari in the same wingback chair that Nobunaga had occupied the night before.

Ieyasu puttered around, snuffing half the candles and closing the drapery, before crouching in front of Mitsunari. Hideyoshi leaned against the doorway, half in and out of the room. He felt almost as if he were poised for flight – if the news were bad he knew there would be a part of him that would want to start running, and keep running… while another part would make it impossible to move at all. It was all a sum of that invisible wall of water surrounding him.

With a pair of scissors, Ieyasu neatly snipped through the bandage. The slight burns on Mitsunari’s face had long since healed, but Ieyasu had always said the burns weren’t the issue, it had been the concussion from the explosion that had caused his blindness. “Open your eyes slowly… if things are blurry, it’s to be expected.”

“Wait.” Mitsunari’s hand came up to keep the bandage in place. “Major… Sir… Hideyoshi. What you said to me before… I can’t forgive you because I have no right to that. There’s no reason to. But – please, forgive yourself.” He didn’t wait for Hideyoshi to respond – and perhaps there could be no response to that anyway. Mitsunari couldn’t force Hideyoshi to forgive himself any more than Hideyoshi could force Mitsunari to blame him.

Maybe that had been his point.

From where he was standing in the door, Hideyoshi couldn’t see the expression on either one of their faces when the bandage finally fell away, and the silence from Mitsunari wasn’t helping things either. That clock on the mantle kept ticking into the void, as Ieyasu slowly moved his finger back and forth in front of Mitsunari’s eyes, almost in cadence with the clock.

He wouldn’t be doing that he if thought Mitsunari hadn’t been healed, right? Finally, Ieyasu put his hand down and grunted in satisfaction. “You’ll need to wear the blindfold every other hour, and slowly retrain your eyes. Then go to an ocularist for a stronger pair of glasses…”

Whatever he said after that was lost in the rush of relief that Hideyoshi felt. Mitsunari turned his head looking for…

… Hideyoshi, apparently, as the young man paused, his brilliant amethyst eyes focused on him … then he smiled.

I saved your life, that smile seemed to say, now… make something of it.

…Hideyoshi supposed that he would.

[sparkles-and-trash]

random BNHA Uni AU doodles ~

when you came to the roof to smoke, but got so distracted by a bird you forgot to even bring the cigs 😬

the girls who girl, girling, but the girls who truly girl, be girrlest (pls do not tell me Ochako looks like Dora I KNOW idk how to fix it 😭)

imagine being this grossly in love in the common area??? also I made my laugh with the book, kinda wanna make some pages now -

selfie-ception! Denki is 100% taking a selfie to send to Shinso to tell him he stole his hoodie -

I tried some new stuff here and there, idk if I like it or not, but the only way to improve is to try new stuff!

!! (emergency) commission’s are open !!

[thessalian]

Thess vs TLoVM Ep. 7

Yeah, I’m going through these fairly slowly but I am SAVOURING THEM and also I do want to play video games and I’m not distracting myself from this gloriousness with video games no thank you.

Anders already makes me want to punch him in the face. And this is ... okay, we’ve seen him at the end of the last episode and let’s face it, his design is kind of surfaced-blobfish looking so he was designed to look really punchable but the voice as well. Well done, Stephen Root.

(That reminds me - need to watch The Book of Boba Fett. Root was in that, apparently.)

Wait. I know that voice-- did they get the same voice actor to do Lady de Rolo and Lady Briarwood? *checks* They did. That’s ... thematically brilliant.

It doesn’t say who’s voicing Lord de Rolo but ... I’m pretty sure that’s Taliesin.

Yeah, I think the thing I’m loving best about this is the flashbacks. Anders is ... such a shithead.

The introduction of Orthax in this slow and steady drip-feed way is incredible and--

Oh FUCK OFF, Scanlan! ...Okay, the thing I like about this is that they really do have the characters down. I mean, I know everybody did the Scanlan Shorthalt Precious Cinnamon Roll Can Do No Wrong thing back in the day but Sam himself flagged up that part of his -2 Wisdom modifier was the fact that he had absolutely zero filter. He gets uncomfortable and breaks the mood the only way he knows how, and he probably knows on some level that it’s inappropriate (reasonably high INT, if I remember right) but he doesn’t care as long as the uncomfortable stops. He doesn’t like being alone with his own emotions or anyone else’s and Sam’s not saying it’s right or appropriate or a good thing to do; Scanlan just does it because it seems like a better idea than having to stew in emotions he doesn’t like. And since Travis and Sam co-wrote this one, it’s nice to see that his tendency to do that “jokes to clear the air” shit at the worst possible time and in the worst possible vein continues, because Sam intended it to be an in-depth character flaw, not just something funny to do during sessions. (So yes, thank you, Vex. Not the time. This is when I want Manners.)

Oh, poor Sun Tree! ...I’m not sure whether I want there to be the Matt Stoner Sun-Tree voice or not. On one level, I loved it. On another level, I’m not sure they could do it with the format. Sudden tonal shifts are not, as stated above, always the friend of a solid narrative.

Though that is a good question, Vax. And also Scanlan. And I bet Percy’s never been so grateful for a Keyleth-related problem in his life.

THANK YOU, ARCHIE.

SCANLAAAAAAAAAAN. Thank you, twins.

Okay, come on, guys, listen to Scanlan for once. Can you guys please listen to when he’s clearly serious? ...Then again, it’s pretty clear that they’re as worried about him not having back-up and no one’s getting that.

...HELLO MATT.

“Totally meant to do that.” Well, he is hopping walls like a cat. I’ve seen cats fall off shit and then look around like ‘I meant to do that’ all the time. Which I assume is the joke.

“Oh shit.” Literally, from the sounds of things... Now that kind of tonal shift works. At least in part because it eases in from the absurd into the terrifying by ... somehow combining both. Good job, Travis and Sam.

“Roll to see if you hit--”............ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!? D&D-ception! Also ... hi again, Matt. It really is just like watching a Pillars of Eternity Let’s Play. Matt is everywheeeeeeeere.

So let’s see ... very interesting take on Dimension Door, and Enlarge/Reduce. Emphasis on Reduce. Also I am crying laughing right now.

Oh, right, the Potion of Fire-Breathing!

Triceratops tiiiiiiiiiiiiime!

“Doors are such bullshit!” Every party in the world has said this at least once.

Poor worried Vex. I swear, Vox Machina was effectively the party of Complete Inability To Show Any Reasonable Emotion Without Somehow Being An Asshole About It. Ironically, I think the best one at that was Percy, who (while obviously having some Orthax-related issues) dropped all his defenses like hot rocks the moment Vex seemed even slightly upset.

...With very good reason, the worry for Scanlan. Though giving him the finger at that moment is impressive-- OH! Hello Scanlan’s Hand! Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. I seem to remember this fight being slightly less involving whaling on Scanlan. Then again, we do need the drama.

Seriously, all you’re going to do with arrows is piss Grog off- yeah, see, there you go.

And the crotch lightning saves the day. And yes, see, Scanlan? THAT is where you save the jokes for. I wonder if he just treats most of his life as a dress rehearsal for those triumphant moments where the one-liners are appropriate. I mean, I guess he needs to get his material from somewhere.

Oh. Shit. Yeah, I remember this one. They somehow made it more heartbreaking. I mean, I seem to recall that there was a little more discussion about maybe Cassandra not getting-- yeah, that.

Oooooooooooooooooh FUCK YOUR CLIFFHANGER. I mean, I know what happens but still FUCK IT UP THE ASS WITH A CACTUS SIDEWAYS.

So ... yeah. I guess video games are just going to have to wait. Then again, my Shenanigans Saturday’s cancelled tonight so I have time for video games later.

[lorei-writes]

HC: OTP Prompts - Mitsunari

Mitsunari x MC Fluff

Prompt: who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them? ; Request: @a-chaotic-dumbass

Eeep, a request rolled in! Let me see what I can do as to make it as fully as possible, as per suggestion ~~ Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Content Warnings: none

As odd as it may sound, the find-beg-to-keep procedure is split evenly between the two of them, Mitsunari being generally too distracted to notice the pet in the first place. His lover taking care of this aspect of the procedure, it never ceases to amaze how deeply compassionate the tactician is, his pleas to keep the animal sounding off before any traces of theoretically possible disapproval could have a chance to surface.

If reduced to their bare principals, a debate and a war are fairly similar, one side fighting against the other to gain the influence, albeit through vastly different means. Nevertheless, having been born into logic itself, Mitsunari wastes no time and instigates a rapid offensive, still not realising he in fact is battling against windmills, for there was no disagreement regarding keeping the pet up from the very beginning. He cannot and will not risk failure, even if it puts him at risk of sounding mildly impolite!

“A puppy of this age should not be left to wander by themselves. They have either ran away, or perhaps they are one of the strays and have lost their pack - although the second situation appears unlikely, as they are very social. They must have been dependent on humans! We cannot leave them!” “Mitsunari --” “No, no, please, do wait and allow me to finish. I am aware it would increase the general workload you bear, and I would not even dare suggest that much without intending to take care of them myself. I do know Kitty may be a bit reluctant at first, but I am certain I can manage to ease them into liking each other.” “Darling, listen, I --” “Those eyes, they are asking for help!” Mitsunari ends, lifting the puppy up into the air, their hind paws dangling above the ground, theirs tail swagging... Although it is not quite certain who really makes the pleading face - the puppy or Mitsunari himself?

Eventually, after his arguments have finally run out, his lover cups his face gently, the puppy staring up at the man holding him. “Mitsunari. Love. Darling. Yes. The answer is yes and it has always been yes.”

The crowd around starts to wonder whether the entire exchange was not some sort of roundabout proposal. Regardless of that, our couple returns to the castle, Mitsunari still holding the puppy in his arms, soft fur brushing against his chin.

The puppy having been washed, AKA the castle having survived a massive flood, they retreat to rest for the day, Mitsunari insisting on allowing for the animal to sleep with them.

Similar situation had happened several times by then, the pet ending up as new member of either “the immediate” or “the extended family” - Hideyoshi might have become a great-grandfather of a litter of kittens... Although if we were to go by family analogies then Mitsunari would be a stork bringing in the new pet-children into the castle. Semi-freqnetly at that.

OTP Prompts List

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @rikumorimachisgirl, @bestbryn, @kink-rabbithole @fairstival If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

[muppenthings]

I seriously just got distracted from drawing a distraction (not working on the comic like I should). Distract-ception. So I’ve decided that Virgil purrs right? I started thinking how baby bears sound when they purr. And they sound like this <- (link to a youtube video of a bear cub purring) and oh my gosh I needed to draw him as a toddler. Imagine him doing just those sounds. I had to. I tried hard to keep this spoiler-free with the person holding him. Hmm... :,)

Tag list:

@justanotherpurplebutterfly @vitriolic-artist @sparrow-flightninggale @unsurepotatohooman @welovelogansanders @the-aroace-queen-in-the-quiver @lonelyanxiousbean @justanothernerdyfandomblog @luci-the-android @hiddendreamer67 @raccoonrabbit15 @theregoesmygpa @hikarisakurariver @thenaiads @secretlypansexualmango @infinitywarkilledmysoul @averykedavra @yalltookmyurlideas @iamdarknessiamdeath @nonbeenary-enbee @alexisthedevilsfox @agoddamnrayofsunshine @rainbowbowtie @fakeestateart @firefox2215 @mynamehasbeenstolen @werewolfsonpage394 @pixelatedrose @sablesides @ncanspeak @killjoy-3000 @justagaygoose @bunny222 @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @drarryisrealandhogwartsisgay @fandomfan315 @hitmewiththatfanart33 

[amandabe11man]

there was an amanda-ception today when a nurse was gonna draw some blood for a routine test (so I can renew my right to get a driver’s license, yada yada) cause as u know, amanda is my name-- but then the nurse/doctor who drew the blood was ALSO named amanda, and while i was trying to think of other things to distract myself from the needle in my arm, I was (ironically) thinking abt amanda shooting up in Saw 2:

[stealingpotatoes]

You gamers seemed to like the concepts for the Ghost!Jess instead of the Heart AU, so here’re a load of random notes about it:

it’s about the inherent simultaneous angst and comfort of ghosts ok?? having your loved one seem there but not quite

Emily can’t even see that Jess is there, Jess can’t comfort her daughter despite the fact she’s in pain and Corvo can’t even hug Jess ): 

but then there’s the (: of Corvo getting to see Emily grow up alongside Jess and still being able to talk to her (she’s as incoherent as the Heart to START with, but she grows more Jess-like as time goes on) 

I am a slut for parallels so this AU is also about how Jess is now Corvo’s shadow and protector the way he was before. ALSO the thing of Jess now having to be an outsider to the family/ not being able to be a parent, like the way corvo had to be before but to the NEXT MOTHERHECKING LEVEL

also uh crying emoji, Corvo saying smthn to Em like “if your mother was here, she would tell you--” and then reciting exactly what ghost Jess is saying to him (emily is a little ?? but doesn’t say as much)

Jess also advises Corvo on advising Emily’s decisions as Empress -- advice-ception 

Ghost!Jess can actually help out in small ways and she has possession instead of Corvo + she can do small things for distraction. she can also deal with magic stuff ie ghosthounds

unlike how Corvo canonically loses the Heart between games, Corvo doesn’t lose Jess spirit then 

speaking of DH2, Delilah probably thinks she’s just hallucinating Jessamine’s ghost at the anniversary lol (but she’s marked and she can see her which is fun!) 

Emily only finds out about the whole ghost thing once she’s marked and SHE gets Jess’ ghost (Corvo never really found a way to tell her) 

This is a moment of super confusion bc Jess spirit was lowkey frozen with Corvo and at first she assumes Corvo DIED bc she’s been untethered -- meanwhile Emily is reeling from seeing her mum’s ghost lol 

Emily also has to deal with both Delilah and Jessamine’s spirits bickering once she gets the former (there’s a vessel Breanna made to carry Del’s soul in the conservatory & Em uses that -- yes i thought it through dw) 

Jess’ spirit does float away after the DH2 finale (bc she used up a lot of Stuff helping fight Delilah) and she gets her peace, but only after a very emotional goodbye to Corvo and Emily 

[lordsisterxotome]

Reward (Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader

Prompt:  école / “En garde!”

Warning: None

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,180

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: This is for day two of @kissmetwicekissmedeadly​‘s Napoleon Birthday Prompts 2020. I already have a couple more of the days finished, but it’s taking me a while to type, sooo... I’m determined to keep typing even though my left arm is in a cast.;D

Tag list: @puffpuff300​ @nad-zeta​ @jiyuu-chan​ @i-sleep-like-napoleon​ @kisara-16​ @cheese-ception​ @cailannuesugi​ @vespeshadowmoon​ @ravenarld​

Let me know if you would like to be (un)tagged!💜

       “En garde, Napoleone!” The dull clack of the wooden swords echoed over the cobblestones, a small crowd of children watching in rapture as one of their own faced their teacher. 

       The little girl in your lap, Élise, gasped in awe as Napoleon blocked the strike the boy aimed at him. “So cool!” she whisper-squealed, little fingers digging into your arms around her. You smiled, sharing in her excitement. He really was as cool as they came, dashing even with a simple wood training sword in his hand. Your lips broke into a bashful grin when your lover shot a glance your way. His signature smirk dazzled you as he winked, bringing a blush to your cheeks. 

       Next to you, Isaac sighed, shuffling uncomfortably where he sat on the ground. “Did he have to distract everyone with this?” he grumbled, “We’ll lose the daylight before we get to latin and geography.”

       “Why not?” you giggled without tearing your eyes away from the duel. “It was time for a break anyway.”

       “Shhh!!” Élise hushed, giving you a fierce look as she held a small finger in front of her lips. You bit your bottom lip to keep from chuckling, turning your attention back to the duel. 

       It happened often that one of the young boys of Napoleon and Isaac’s école would challenge the former emperor to a match, eager to impress the man they so looked up to. Even now there was a determined glint in the boy, Edmund’s, eyes as each of his strikes was blocked or dodged with ease, desperate for his teacher’s approval. 

       Of course, the matches never lasted long, and as you watched, a quick spin of the heel sent the boy stumbling forwards, feet knocked out from under him. He landed on his hands and knees, wooden sword clattering against the stones. With a defeated sigh, Edmund turned to give Napoleon a rueful look. “I lost.”

       “Yes,” Napoleon replied, reaching down to lift the boy back onto his feet, “but now you can get better. Your body won’t always be so small. One day soon, you’ll be considered a man with all the expectations and responsibilities of being a man. It’s important that you make mistakes and learn now so you can be better in the future.” His gaze darted to you, the soft look in his eyes spreading warmth through your chest. “So you can protect the person you love.”

       Edmund blinked at Napoleon, but he just smiled knowingly, ruffling the boy’s hair to lighten his words.

       “Teach me how to do that, Napoleone!”

      “No, me first!”

       A herd of small bodies rushed around the two, released from whatever force of rapture had been holding them in place until now. Élise jumped up from your lap as you stood, dusting your skirt off. The warm sensation in your chest spread through the rest of your body, leaving you feeling light and bubbly as you watched Napoleon interact with the children. He smiled and laughed as they crowded around him, faces shining with adoration as he took the time to answer each of their questions. As you watched, he lifted Élise into his arms, indulging her as she stretched her tiny hands up at him. The little girl squealed in delight, wrapping thin arms around his neck, and you were once again reminded of what a great father he would be.

       It was all too easy to imagine, a tiny version of him or you held so lovingly in his embrace, family snuggling late into the morning, picnics in the countryside as your children played in the field…

       You didn’t notice he was looking at you until he started making his way toward you, wading through a sea of children still vying for his attention. As he came closer, you gave him a questioning look, opening your mouth to ask, “Napoleone? What is it?”

       “I’ve come to claim my reward,” he spoke with a smirk.

       You blushed, knowing exactly what he wanted, but Élise just looked at him curiously. “Mademoiselle (y/n)’s going to give you a prize, Napoleone? What kind of prize? Can I have one too?”

       His smirk widened and he started leaning closer to you. “I hope she will,” he murmured, and your hands were already reaching to cup his face, your body leaning closer instinctively. “I’d love it if she did,” he breathed against your lips, half-lidded green eyes filling your narrowing vision as your lids fell shut and the little distance remaining between his body and yours closed. 

       Élise squealed and squirmed between the two of you as you kissed your lover, smiling lips meeting and lingering against yours. The other children “ooed” and “awed” dramatically, a few giggles, hacking sounds, and exclamations of “gross!” punctuating the group.

       Your lips released his with a loud smack and Napoleon licked his lips as he pulled away, satisfied. Little Élise cupped her cheeks, fits of giggles wracking her small body. “Mademoiselle (y/n) and Napoleone are in looovvveee!!!”

       “Noooooo!!!” a couple of boys screamed, running away as a few of the girls gave chase. Isaac shifted his feet nearby, his cheeks dusted a light pink and looking like he just wanted to get back to teaching as children tumbled around him.

       “Wait!” Edmund stomped up to Napoleon, his chest puffed out. “I want a rematch!” he demanded. “If I win, I want a reward from Mademoiselle (y/n) too!”

      “Me too! Me too!” A couple of boys joined in, jostling Edmund as they came forward.

       “Now, hold on.” Napoleon frowned as he set Élise down. “(Y/n)’s rewards are all for me. No one else can have them.”

       “That’s not fair!” they whined, turning to you for help. “Mademoiselle!!”

       You giggled, leaning into your lover as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Sorry, boys. All my rewards are for Napoleone.”

       Two of the boys made disappointed “aww’s,” but Edmund tilted his head, lips twisted in hard thought. The boy gasped a second later, coming to a realization. “When I’m big, I’ll marry Mademoiselle (y/n) and then she’ll only have to give me her prizes!”

       You and Napoleon were silent a moment and then you felt him stiffen. “...snrk!” His shoulders trembled. “Ahahahahaha!” And he burst into laughter, burying his face against your shoulder as he gripped his sides.You couldn’t help laughing too, covering your mouth with a hand as Edmund frowned.

       “Not - ha! - going to happen!” Napoleon managed, chuckling.

       “Why not?!”

       Strong arms wrapped around you, tucking you against your lover’s chest protectively. “Because the only one who’s going to marry (y/n) is me.”

       More squeals and coos erupted from the other children. “Napoleon wants to marry Mademoiselle (y/n)!!!”

       “He has a crush on her!”

       “And have lots of babies!”

       How babies came into the mix you didn’t know, but as Napoleon added, “That’s right,” you couldn’t help but enjoy the fuss. Laughing, you fell into your emperor’s waiting arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you rewarded him again, this time simply for being him.

[lucres]

LUISA!! I watched The Old Guard and now Im hooked!! 😭💞 (I fully blame you for that but really THANK YOU for giving me something to distract myself with from the ee draught) Do you have any fic and/or blog recs for me? 🙈

AMELIE!!

I accomplished my goal 🥰 (i was spamming The Old Guard to get you to watch it of course 😏). It’s a wonderful distraction and it brings me so much joy at the moment 💖

Some of the tog blogs I follow are @scimitar-and-longsword @joenicky @of-scythia @nickysjoe @rafasilvas @marwanskenzari @milkovivhs @theoldguardsource (run by @permetstu @alexmanes and @nicoloyusuf)

Thanks to me @radio-chatter​ and @win-doc-lock-ception​ saw the light and watched the movie too 💞

Here are some of my fave Joe x Nicky fics that I’ve read so far:

deo volente (lux aeterna)

Finding Yourself

Ways To Go

under the sea

The Language of Love

Kiss Each Other Clean

what thou and I did, till we loved

drift off