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scorpiongrassfield · 1 year

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You go for a Walk with Pat

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“You sure you don’t want any sunglasses, kid?” Pat asks.

You’re about to ask them about the sun, when you see it. Getting low in the sky, wreathed by golden clouds, is the sun.

“Uh. Sylv? You’re not supposed to stare at it,” Pat says, nudging you with their elbow.

You blink rapidly and shake your head a bit. There are spots in your eyes from where you were looking at it.

You glance again, really quick, but it’s still there.

Why now? What changed?

You are going to ask these questions, but first you need a different answer. Before you lose your chance.

Pat leads you through the town. Past the laundromat and a Greek restaurant, past a gas station and a convenience store.

“You said you’d answer my questions honestly,” you say.

Pat smirks. “Did I?”

You give them a dirty look. “Okay, you said you’d give me ‘actual answers’,” you correct.

Pat nods.

“You never fully answered why I’m still staying with you. Incomplete answers and lying by omission don’t sound like ‘actual answers’ to me,” you say.

Pat crosses their arms, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “I got a little off topic. I’m not trying to hide anything from you,” they say.

You raise an eyebrow. “Then tell me what you know about who I was before we met. Don’t I have any family I could have gone to?”

Pat sighs, their shoulders slumping.

“Look kid. It’s not a happy story. Are you sure you want to know? You could start fresh without it hanging over you now,” they say.

“Happy or not, it’s still my story. I have a right to know it.”

“Suit yourself,” they say with a shrug. They start walking again, and you follow them.

“When we met, I didn’t have much to go off of to find out more about you. You wouldn’t tell me anything, and your name—you were going by My or Myo at the time—wasn’t your legal one, so I couldn’t even look you up that way,” they explain.

“But you still found out something. You do this stuff for a living,” you say.

“Of course. You gave away some things about yourself over the course of time. We talked about my accent not sounding like a New York accent because there’s still a bit of North Carolina in it sometimes, and you mentioned growing up in Ohio, things like that. It gave me a place to start,” they say.

You keep quiet, waiting for them to continue. The sun is gone again, but the sunset is still going.

“Hey look, here’s the park,” Pat says, nodding to the green space. There’s a little pond across the grass.

“Wanna skip some rocks?” they ask.

You aren’t sure you know how, so you shrug.

Pat seems to take that as a yes, so the two of you make your way to the small shore.

Pat looks at the ground as they speak. You aren’t sure if it’s to find a rock to skip or just avoid looking at you. “I tracked down your family. I obviously wasn’t going to be like “hey I found your kid” without having any idea of why you weren’t living with them. What if they were the ones that stabbed you, you know?”

Your stomach sours with fear at the thought.

“I emailed, told them I was an amateur genealogist looking into my family tree, and that we were distant cousins, did they have any stories about the family, ect. And one of the things I asked about was if they had any kids,” they say.

Pat looks up at you, or at least you think they do. It’s hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“They said they didn’t have any,” Pat says, and skips a rock across the pond. “I said that was weird because the records said they did have a kid, and they told me that you died when you were 17.”

“What?” That makes no sense. You clearly did not die.

Pat smiles ruefully. “There was no record of your death anywhere. My first thought was runaway, but there were no missing person reports either.”

They fall silent for a bit. Skip a few more rocks.

“Did you ever find out what actually happened?” you prompt.

Pat huffs a laugh. “Yeah. You told Kep. Oh, you don’t remember, Kep is a friend of ours. You told them that you’d been kicked out while the two of you were watching anime. I wasn’t present for the conversation, and Kep didn’t give me too many details, the gist was that they had been pretty shitty parents before then. I’m like, 75% sure you got your food issues from them,” they say.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So. That’s your story. Your parents kicked you out. Then something Really bad happened to you that you never talked about, which ended with you meeting me after you almost died. You stayed because you had nowhere else to go.”

“Oh,” you say again.

“Is that a complete enough answer for you?” Pat asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” You pick up a rock to try skipping it. It sinks into the pond with a single splash.

“Good. Now what else do you want to know about?”

You take a while to digest what you've been told just now before deciding on your next question. You just learned a lot.

But you don't want to squander your chance for more answers, so you take a deep breath and decide to soldier on.

Glancing at the sky, which has grown dimmer, you ask:

“What’s going on with the sun?”

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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moonluringfrost · 1 year

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Okay I have to ask bc I'm curious 👀 For Scorpion Grass, do you write/plan parts of the story ahead of time based on the choices you give the readers whenever you post an update? Or do you just write it after the votes come in? What happens when the readers vote in a way you weren't expecting or don't choose an option you were excited to write? Feel free to give as much detail as you'd like! I'm always really curious how interactive story authors balance the quirks of their process and the story itself!

Hello Nopal :D Thank you for asking~

putting it under a cut because i got a little carried away, haha

I do have a plan on the overall arc to how things go, but scorpion grass is this big branching story and if I wrote all the choices before hand i'd never get an update out 😅

Which is to say that when it comes to choices I have an idea of what Path it sets the characters on depending on what wins, but the concrete details only come in after i know which is the winner. Or if one option pulls far enough ahead early on, I'll get started on it right away, depending on how much energy I have.

Not all of the choices expressly effect the immediate plot, some of them effect what kind of person Sylv is (honest or not, for example), which will effect things towards the end of the story, but maybe the two choices' chapters wouldn't have looked that different. It's the chapters that follow afterwards that get changed, if that makes any sense.

I got surprised a lot by readers at the beginning with how people voted, actually. Over time i've gotten a better idea of like, what my reader's preferences are for choices and such, though. It seems like the majority of readers don't want to put Sylv in any undue danger, and don't want to make Sylv be rude or tell lies very often. The first one is interesting to me, because I did promise there would be no dead/bad ends in this version of scorpion grass. though perhaps that was before most of the readers started so they don't know that... this just occurred to me actually as I was typing :o

but what happens when i'm sure i know how people will vote/what the winner will be and then they don't pick that result I very dramatically whine to my non-writeblr friends about it, then write the chapter anyway because the show must go on!

i also don't hold myself to my plan super seriously, because sometimes i have better ideas for things as I go. The grave chapters were something that popped into my head at work and i was like. well. i can't Not do that now, even though i'll need to rearrange some things... and sometimes I'll have Sylv made an important choice and then go. 'wait that would be more satisfying to leave up to reader choice actually' so i put up a poll instead.

that's all i can think of at the moment, thank you again for asking <3

#scorpion grass

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mischief-lies-and-stories · 1 year

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Loki Series Theories (this number is not accurate) 6/?, aka My Brain Hates Me

My brain at 1am: Let's go to sleep by mentally writing Loki season two, episode 1 but make it way more lokius than it's canonically going to be.

Me, finally settling in for a Loki bedtime story after a month of Good Omens nonsense: Okay.

My brain: *Dumps this theory on me*

Theory: Loki is time-slipping because he's not supposed to be back.

No one who was pruned has ever come back to the TVA or the main timeline before. It's causing shit. Similar to how in other media having two versions of a character existing at the same time or in the same universe would cause a paradox that fucks shit up and in some cases (I can't think of specific examples at this time) the universe would make one of the versions cease to exist to correct the paradox, pruning is meant to be permanent. It sends you to the Void, where (and I'm making some assumptions here; I'm not sure if these are the exact intentions) Alioth is meant to devour your existence sooner or later. (Loki is right on Lamentis; Lokis survive. But that doesn't mean they escape the Void. Once you're in the Void I don't think the TVA gives much of a shit what happens to you after that.) Whatever pruning is really meant to accomplish, you're not supposed to come back from it; the sparky version of the Melt Stick is a one-way ticket.

Except Loki comes back. Sylvie sends him back. (My alternative theory to this is that Loki is time-slipping because Sylvie sent him to a parallel universe and he's causing a paradox, but for the purposes of this theory, I'm saying she sent him to the correct TVA but in entering the Citadel and stabbing He Who Remains the timeline is already so fucked even the legit TVA is getting weird.) He's supposed to remain in the Void. This is causing some wonky shit to go down, manifesting in Loki's time-slipping, even in the TVA, which OB says in the trailer is not supposed to be possible.

Now, of course there are some holes you can start poking in this theory. I have counterarguments (which, I'll remind you, I came up with at 1 am, so are varying degrees of flimsy at this point).

But Sylvie also came back from the Void. We see her in the trailer (and commercials) at McDonald's and various other locations both alone and with Loki. She doesn't just stay in the Citadel. Well, she's time-slipping, too. Marvel has a history of being very careful with revealing spoilers and plot twists during trailers or sneak peeks, to the point of going to some controversial lengths in the past. If they showed her also time-slipping we'd be able to work out the connection that they're slipping because they came back from the Void, and for the moment at least, they seem to want to keep the reason why Loki's slipping a mystery. So either they're carefully editing scenes with Sylvie around her own time-slipping moments, or only showing us the parts after Loki and Mobius manage to fix her time-slipping, since in the beginning of the trailer, we see Loki slipping seemingly every few seconds or minutes, and then later on (especially around Sylvie) he seems to be going much longer without slipping or not slipping at all (at least in how much of the scene they show). This seems to imply that the problem either gets fixed somewhat quickly so that it's not ongoing throughout the season, or that at first he's time-slipping very frequently but eventually they are able to delay it longer.

But Mobius also came back from the Void. He gets back before the other two. We see him in the finale in two separate places in the TVA (or two versions of him in two TVAs), and both times, he seems free of glitching. Well, they wiped his memory (again) when he got back. Maybe this either fixed the time-slipping or they also fixed that at the same time they wiped his memory. Alternatively, this is an alternate version of him. He's not time-slipping because this version was never pruned. Alternatively, he's also time-slipping, like Sylvie, and like Sylvie, the trailer has been carefully edited to cut out this information.

Canon Likelihood: Likely

I genuinely think both Loki and Sylvie are time-slipping because they came back from pruning. I don't think at the time we reunite with Mobius in the finale, whether this is an alternate Mobius or a memory-wiped Mobius, he's time-slipping. I'm about 50% hopeful they will explain why he's the only one of the trio who isn't and won't just leave another gaping Grand-Canyon-sized plot hole.

#loki #loki tv show #loki theories #loki season 1 spoilers #loki season 2 #loki season 2 trailer spoilers #loki season 2 trailer

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mxdotpng · 3 years

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the part im actually most excited to write about is of jade sylvando and erik before they get to sniflheim

#dq #.text #i just think. theyre friends. :)#jade and sylv sitting with erik telling him stories of him and his friends from the past bc #he was told hero was important and he was told he's dead. but he cant mourn anyone if he doesnt have any memories of them #and it helps jade and sylv too. remembering the good parts of their friends while theyre gone rather than the bad parts #plus i think that having him gradually be introduced to his friends and old memories makes erik's uhhh #like. him rememberinf everything. a lot less sudden and a lot more. hm. easy to swallow? i guess #but also bc i like to be a little cruel...#i was thinking about doing something of veronica's funeral but... idk. i dont think i will #i dont want to write about the scenes that would be the same bc with or without the luminary the party is capable and #rewriting scenes for a few minor tweeks is pointless and exhausting. the aftermath though...#hero and veronica sitting behind serena listening to her harp. and talking. its weird to be able to see your own funeral #and your own sister mourning you. and not be able to comfort her.#and hero of course would be sitting there like. ronnie. shouldnt you have like... died. died. by now?#and here is where they have their emotional heart to heart. hero is able to help the party if even a little. but she cant #and this entire time the only thing shes really been able to do is cheer him on.#but shes looking at this funeral and listening to her sisters mournful tune and thinking. maybe im still here to see the end of this #to see the world heal again. and. secretly of course. to see hero be able to greet his friends again.#i should actually work out the specifics of his ghostly abilities huh... but i dont want to. so much work...#i think he can interact with solid/real things the easiest. like picking up a pencil and throwing it or whatever #he can cast spells but it takes a lot of energy and the physical ones dont really do much. frizz for example wouldnt #be a full spell even if he used all of his energy. he can use healing spells just fine though. its like... creating a physical means of #destruction as a ghost is extremely hard and even when done correctly isnt exactly 'correct'#it at mosts interacts with the world the same way hero does. with little imprint even as something that can physically interact with others #i think he can also 'possess' people but. not in the same way you and i view possession. think of it as...#he isnt a GHOST ghost. he's stuck inbetween life and death. his luminary powers and his connection to yggdrasil are aiding him #and with this he can give his powers away for a moment at the cost of his consciousness and his spirit. body. thing.#its not a physical body bc hes. well. a ghost. but still. anyway. he can give that up for a few moments which is #what leads the party forward. they can cut through darkness and weild the sword of light properly bc of this +

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makanidotdot · 3 years

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your slyvanas writing is incredible

like. her character holds a LOT of pain for me bc ive been projecting onto worgen and nelves for literally over half my life. and im in college now. and THEN the teldrassil thing happened.

you, though? i REALLY LIKE your sylvanas and she makes me understand why people care. godspeed

;www; thank you I do really love the Sylv that lives in my head and having someone say "this character's not for me but I get it" really is a great compliment. I feel like at this point I have a really complete picture of her in my head now since wow itself has given us a pretty extensive list of What to Do and What Not To Do's that I could cross of the list of what a successful version of her character can and can't be (for me), at least.

I HAVE MORE SYLV COMICS i wanna do, I REALLY want to finish one where sylv meets nathanos for the first time ESPECIALLY before the book comes out and my nice simple headcanon is contaminated by book things i can't ignore whether i like or hate them sldkfjs But I am ALSO in the middle of drawing Tyrande and Elune Redo comic which isnt like the cinematic at all and is more like the fucking Architect blabbing shit to Neo but hopefully isn't actually that and is actually sort of nice??? But yes I just wanted to let yall know what's in the works!! I guess bc the game finally finished dookieing out the last of my fave characters stories it rly got me drawing again I JUST WANT THE GIRLS TO HAVE NICE THINGS 🥺

#rly been feeling a lot of love for the tumblr lately ty all #ty for your comments n tags #heart explode #warcraft #also playing slightly less games seems to also help with how much drawing i do hmm weird coincidence maybe

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saber-of-dreams · 3 years

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Lamentis - An Analysis

If we’re being honest here, there’s probably enough material to look at the entire episode in extensive detail, but that would take forever and I’ve got work tomorrow. Funny story - I had originally put “A Brief Analysis” in the title...then I realized it wasn’t actually brief anymore. 😀

So for now, I wanted to do a quick analysis of the scenes between Loki and Sylvie once they make it onto the train, because this is where the whole dynamic between them shifts.

It’s interesting that we start out talking about Frigga - about family. Loki’s biggest soft spot. Especially now that he’s seen what happens to him in his original timeline, and now that he understands that his family did in fact love him.

And we see how having them - Frigga, in particular, has affected Loki’s development. Not just his skill in magic, but his true nature. He becomes noticeably softer, gentler, when he talks about his adopted mother. Whatever the circumstances, he truly loved her. And although this Loki never made it to that point where he sent her to her death, he still knows that he would have done it. And he still feels that regret. This is also echoed in the first episode when he reads about the destruction of Asgard. Family is family, regardless of your blood.

We also figure out Sylvie pretty quickly here too. We see that she is abysmally lonely. Jumpy. Untrusting. And then we find out that she never really knew her family, but that they had the decency to tell her she was adopted and allow her to process that information positively as a child. It’s an interesting parallel for them both - Loki who grew up with the family, but didn’t know he was adopted, and Sylve who grew up knowing she was adopted, but lost her family so early. Equal but opposite.

This is all perfectly encapsulated in that moment where Loki does the mini fireworks for her. It’s a genuine gesture meant to do nothing but make her smile, and pull her out of the dark place she seems to have gone. And it works.

And then he follows it up with a genuine question about her own powers. And you can hear the amazement, the respect, in his voice when she explains that she taught herself.

We then move almost directly into the subject of love. And again, we see the juxtaposition of their two lives. Loki having relationships/lovers but no real depth and Sylvie having no real relationships at all, possibly only physical experience - the non-attached variety (in case that wasn’t obvious from the dialogue).

The key piece of dialogue here? Loki saying “Nothing ever...” and Sylvie supplying the word to finish the thought - “real.”

Love is kind of like a recipe. You need a few key ingredients, in just the right measure added just the right way to create something truly spectacular.

See here’s the thing - it is so much harder to see someone as an enemy, when you know them. Maybe you don’t know everything. But you know enough. You understand. Ingredient one - compassion/understanding. Again, we see that here. You have to know someone. And that requires honest engagement. No masks. No lies. Just blatant, heart-wrenching truth. Family. Love.

You also need respect. Genuine, un-assuming, respect for another person. For their abilities/skills/personality traits - doesn’t matter. But if you don’t respect them - you don’t love them. Now obviously it takes a while to develop true respect for someone, but again, this scene is the start of that for them.

Loki is impressed by Sylvie’s ability to teach herself magic, and Sylvie is impressed by Loki’s obvious skill with illusion. And given the multiple fights the two have had, I would imagine they see each other as competent fighters. Not to mention their various plans to get them to this stage working out/working together.

Okay. I’m going to step away from the recipe we’re crafting here for a moment so I can talk about The Song - part deux (I did a brief analysis on that yesterday). But instead of analyzing the content of the song this time, I want to analyze the moments around it.

Now, Sylvie wakes up in the middle of it, so I sincerely doubt that Loki started singing it with any deliberate attempt to serenade her - but - when she wakes up? And he notices? He immediately turns to her - and sings the true centerpiece of the song (the adventurer/warrior trying to find his way back to the maiden who waits for him) directly at her. Literally. He turns his body to face her directly. He sings to her. And you know, literally dedicates the song to her when he’s done.

You know that bubbly, excited feeling you get, when you start crushing on someone? That joy that just kinda...makes everything a little brighter? That’s Loki here - aided by quite a bit of alcohol. He has dropped his walls, and is trying to let Sylvie in. He has been nothing but honest with her since they got on the train, and he’s starting to develop real feelings for her. I think their conversation really made him see that - not that he actually consciously understands that (that doesn’t happen until next episode when Mobius has to actually spell it out for him).

Sylvie? She thinks he’s an idiot. Being the center of attention like that? Actively seeking out that attention? Completely foreign to her. And, as she points out, someone noticed him and goes to tip off the real guards. But the other thing here is - this dynamic also foreshadows episode 6 - Loki is focused on Sylvie, and on helping others (i.e. when he finds out the TVA agents are all varients too). Sylvie is focused on her mission to the exclusion of all else - regardless of the feelings that she too may be developing for him. Interestingly, I noticed a super tiny smile on Sylvie’s face when Loki said “To Sylvie, everybody!”

Now, Loki’s lines about love being a dagger are very interesting. Not only is it a great way to see how he perceives the emotion, but it’s also a really nice metaphor for the two of them.

Love is a dagger.

It’s a weapon.

To be wielded.

Far away - or up close

You can see yourself in it.

It’s beautiful.

Until it makes you bleed.

Okay. Back to our recipe.

You need an intersection point - where two opposing people with two opposing ideals meet in the middle. But. That intersection? It has to be mutual and it has to be consensual. You have to be willing to meet someone else half way - to attempt to see things from their perspective, before you step forward.

You cannot force someone to see past their own blindness.

Loki and Sylvie take that next step in a few parts - and sorry folks, but I’m going to pick this up in a future post. I just realized how late it is and I do need to be semi-functional for work tomorrow.

Until next time. 😉

#loki #loki mcu #loki laufeyson #sylvie #loki tv series #sylvie x loki #sylki #sylkie #lamentis #loki episode 3

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sarunohadaki · 3 years

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DQXI/Octopath Traveler Crossover

Crossover week: Home | 1 | 2 | 3| 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Anyone call for a story idea with just character roles planned but no plot? Oh boy do I have the post for you! I’ve only played through chapter 2 of Octopath but from how things are going I have a few ideas for plotlines… on the whole, however, this post outlines each of the characters and their backstories.

Character descriptions under the cut because it’s long! Mentions of a character who's deaf, another character who's trans, and another character with DID.

I’ve been loving Octopath Traveler, but if there’s one thing I had to nitpick, it’s that there’s not enough moments woven in between all the characters! There’s a “travel banter” feature that covers the thinnest bases, where at some points in the game, the option for travel banter will appear on your screen and you can select it to see two characters have a short conversation. You have no choice in which characters talk to which, and you can’t go to that chat feature whenever. Also, let’s say you’re doing someone’s storyline. The other characters don’t talk in other’s cutscenes!

It sort of feels like there are eight games in one when you format the game that way. It's a little… disjointed.

Premise: Another fusion fic where the eight characters in Octopath are swapped for the team in DQXI (plus Gemma). Each character can still have their own backstories and subplots, but I am hankering hard for an overarching plot and antagonist. Maybe there’s, like, an evil League of Villains or some cult. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a place to slot that in, right?

Just like in the game, you stick to one character’s perspective and travel around to pick up the rest of your team, only in this fic, there’s varying dynamics between all the characters and oh boy it’d be prominent.

Characters

H’aanit ➡ Elimelech (El)

The Hunter

Born deaf, Elimelech hunts with his wolf companion and a quiver on his back. Despite appearances, El is not one to be underestimated; he is the pride of his village, which has recently celebrated his rite to adulthood. However, with adulthood comes an unexpected discovery, one which spurs him to leave the village in search of answers to his true heritage.

A literal strong, silent type. But has his shy moments, too. I can imagine you having to tap his shoulder to get him to see you talking to him sometimes, and he has this cute, brief look of curiosity on his face… 🥺

Similar to how H’aanit spoke in Middle and Old English, I think sign language would be interpreted the same way in this world. So everyone’s comprehension of SL is good, signing back… maybe not so good.

Animal companion (Sandy but beefed up into a wolf) would help him interact with the world, or at least keep him out of trouble.

Therion ➡ Erik

The Thief

Like the muck wiped off someone’s shoe, Erik’s not much wanted in most places, but luckily not thought about, either, which helps when he’s stealing coin purses. After a heist goes wrong, he’s tasked with retrieving priceless heirlooms to get back something important.

Does Derk fit well as replacement for Therion’s best buddy? (Sure?)

Therion was apparently well-known despite no one knowing what he looked like. Maybe I can make the opposite work for Erik.

The whole thing with Therion was getting a silver band off his wrist but I still like Erik’s canon plot more, so I’d find a way to shove that in.

Tressa ➡ Gemma

The Merchant

An ambitious and overly friendly adventure wannabe, Gemma uses an anonymous journal as her guide to the wonderful — and perilous — world beneath her feet.

Original plot for Tressa tracks fine, although wouldn’t it be cool if Gemma’s journal were written by Sudo Nim??

Old Dragon Quest had merchant classes, too. Wonder if there’s anything in those mechanics I could add to this fic.

Gemma and El hit it off right away and converse excitedly about everything from cuisine to cute boys. Though… no one tells Erik, who thinks they’re crushing on each other. (love triangle that really isn’t, haha!)

Cyrus ➡ Rab

The Scholar

Newly retired and looking for a new purpose in life, Rab decides to answer a decade-old mystery. While scholarly work has always been a hobby for him, he’s prepared to get to the bottom of this puzzle and hone his analytical skills in the process.

Definitely NOT following Cyrus’s plotline here

I could still have fired Rab (similar to Cyrus) and claimed workplace discrimination, but I like my alternative: “Rab was the head of a royal estate but got bored and ‘quit,’ putting someone else in charge so he could go fart off elsewhere.”

Is Rab related to El in this??? He could be. (Sercretly.)

Alfyn ➡ Sylvia

The Performer

A talented performer with an elusive path, Sylvia has called many places home. Following in the path of a traveler who once changed her life, she sets out to bring smiles to people’s faces and avoid the roots of a past that refuses to leave her alone.

Alfyn was last on the list when I was doing matching so sorry Sylv that you got matched with this backstory. But I can adjust it to make it work

Sylvia and Alfyn both have the goal of cheering up sick kids and ya know I think Sylv could learn some healing stuff along the way! She’s much more than just a pretty face, you know.

Someone from Sylvia’s path definitely shows up again and that will be trouble for her

Primrose ➡ Jade

The Dancer

Jade’s patience and sharp mind have sustained her through years of hard living, although it is all worth it when she finds her chance to exact revenge upon those who killed her father.

— Pretty straightforward, can take a lot from Octopath’s plot for this one.

— Hard decision of whether to somehow incorporate this into Hendrik’s storyline or make Jade’s father and the king Hendrik serves two completely different people

Olberic ➡ Hendrik

The Warrior

An erstwhile knight of a fallen kingdom, Hendrik melts into life in a quiet mountain village until word comes of a former comrade who’d turned traitor and killed their liege.

Jasper is the traitor, obviously!

As for their slain liege… can it really be Carnelian again when that’s Jade’s storyline? Like a plot twist that they were both following the same guy this whole time? Probably not. Probably needs to be someone different. Or Carny can just be twice as dead.

Ophilia ➡ Serenica (Serena and Veronica)

The Cleric

A level-headed cleric, Serenica serves the faith alongside her adoptive family. She takes up the torch to fulfil a traditional pilgrimage to rekindle light across the realm.

This one is complicated and I’m not sure how I’m going to do it yet

I wanted Veronica and Serena to both inhabit the same body and considered them having Dissociative Identity Disorder. I am very not sure about this. If I do it that way, I’d want to do it properly, with a sensitivity reader, research, etc. Because being respectful is Cool.

(P.s. There was fanart but someone (me) misplaced the art and never took photos of it???)

#Crossover Week #my fic ideas #my writing #Octopath Traveler #dqxi #deaf character #dissociative identity disorder #trans character #character with DID #why am i nervous hahah...

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darkmystress00 · 3 years

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Baby Sitter’s Club - Ch 18

A/N: Hello again! I know it has been a while (though not as long as previously.) But I am *trying* to write the rest of this story as quickly as I can. I appreciate all the patience and understanding.

Trigger warnings: none that I can think of…

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Catch up here!

It was two days after telling West and Maison about your new relationship with Misha before they started to act differently. Nothing bad, thank goodness, but you noticed that they watched you and Misha more when all four of you were together. They would move seats at the table to have you and Misha sitting next to each other, or they asked for more activities that involved all four of you. The first time Misha had shown any overt affection in front of them had sent them into a fit of giggles.

All four of you had cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It was after the time you would normally leave, but you didn’t mind. The kids had begged you to stay and tuck them into bed after the movie. It was an easy ‘yes.’

You sat next to Misha, your legs curled up on the couch, with West between you and him, and Maison in his lap. You hadn’t noticed as Misha’s arm had gone up to rest along the back of the couch until it slunk to rest around your shoulders, pulling you in to rest your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and you smiled at how easy it was. You were also surprised at how comfortable you were with it in front of the kids (not that it was a huge display, but it was more than you’d ever done before.) Oh sure, there had been kisses, more like pecks, here and there when you would arrive or before you would leave. A couple hugs had been thrown in the mix as well, but somehow the kids had either never noticed or been in another room.

West had let out a little giggle as you noticed him watching you and his dad cuddling. You’d resisted the urge to move away. Not because you disliked it or were uncomfortable, just because it was new. You weren’t used to it. You felt Misha’s fingers trail over your arm and shoulder in comforting caress and smiled as you relaxed and gave West a little wink.

The movie and gone quickly and as the credits rolled you noticed that both West and Maison were sound asleep in your laps. With a soft smile and a sigh you and Misha each picked up a sleeping body and carried them to their room.

“I should be heading home, it’s late.” You said softly as Misha closed the kids’ bedroom door. He looked up at you and you already knew what he was going to ask.

“You could stay?” He offered. You smiled at him.

“You have no idea how badly I want to say yes…”

“Then say yes.” He offered, his voice low and husky as he slid his hands around you to clasp behind your back.

“Misha, I can’t.” You stretched up to gently kiss his lips. “I want to, believe me, but I’m not at the comfort level of having a sleep over with the kids here.” He nodded and then rested his forehead against yours. “Soon, just give me a little more time.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He gently kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m not trying to push. It’s just hard when you leave. I like having you around. I like spending time with you.”

“I know. I like spending time with you.” Misha’s arms went slack around you before he reached out and took your hand and started walking for the door.

“Y/N, the kids asked to spend tomorrow night with Vic.” You looked at him, his eyes seeming to glitter at the idea currently bouncing around his head. “Would you want to come over and spend some time-just the two of us-after they leave?” It only took a heartbeat for your answer to come to your lips.

“Absolutely.” The smile that lit up Misha’s face made your heart jump in doubletime. He leaned down and kissed you, his warm lips sliding along yours, begging to taste you completely. You sucked his lip into your mouth, gently nibbling on it before soothing it with your tongue. Misha let out a growl and you stifled a giggle.

“I am ten seconds away from hauling you over my shoulder and carrying you to my room caveman-style.” He growled.

“Mmmm, promises.” You teased and he narrowed his eyes at you. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.” He kissed you one last time before stepping back.

“I planned to take the kids to the park and then Vicki was going to pick them up from here just before lunch time.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, “If you wanted, you could come with us to the park and then just stay after they leave.”

“As much as I would love to go to the park with you guys, I have to go into the office tomorrow and submit travel receipts and do some routine eval papers.” You pouted a little. “I wont be able to get out of there until at least one, maybe two if my current job has left any negative reviews on my evaluation forms.” You grinned at him.

“Oh no.” He feigned concern. “I heard they left the worst review. Half a star. Terrible service. Late with the food. You name it.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm lightly.

“I can be here right after.” Your hopeful eyes met his. “Should I have an overnight bag packed?” The heat that filled his eyes threatened to burn you alive.

“Yes, although, I don’t know that you will actually be using anything inside it.”

“Mmm, promises, promises.” You breathed before stretching up to kiss him one last time. “Alright. I need to go before we get into a situation like the kitchen in Vancouver.” The memory of West almost catching you two was still very fresh and strong in your mind. Misha let out a groan but gently released you. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way over?”

“Sounds perfect.” He agreed with a nod.

“Alright, Mish. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” He rumbled as you stepped out the front door. You felt him watch you until you were safely in your car (not that his neighborhood was unsafe by any means.) The butterflies in your stomach calmed a touch as you turned the key in the ignition and made your way home.

~~~

“Hey, Sylv.” You said as you entered the front office. Your friend beamed up at you.

“Hey, Y/N! God it’s been forever!” She stood up and wrapped you in a big hug. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been great. Glad the traveling is done for at least right now.” She nodded.

“I can imagine. Must be nice to have some off time coming up. Got any plans?”

“Not really. Misha invited me to an award thing with the cast.” Sylvia’s face morphed a little and it made you pause. “What?”

“He invited you as like a friend?” She asked, a suspicious note in her voice. “Because it’s your off time and you’re not supposed to be working. And he signed that NDA and your privacy clause.”

“It wouldn’t be a working thing.” You answered truthfully.

“Is it like a date?” The tone of her voice made you pause. “Please say it’s not a date, Y/N.” When you didn’t answer she sucked in a breath and looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Y/N, I’m not going to rat on you, but if something is going on with Mr. Hot-Single-Dad-Collins, you need to keep it very quiet. It is an extreme breach in protocol to start anything romantic with a client, and you could get fired.” You blinked a few times letting everything sink in.

“So, theoretically,” you started and gave her a look that told her it definitely wasn’t theoretical at all, “if I were to start a romantic relationship with Misha, I would have to either quit working or keep it completely hidden?”

“Well, theoretically, you wouldn’t have to stop working, just stop working with him.” You gave her a very confused look not understanding.

“Why?”

“Because, again this is all theoretical, think about what that looks like...a woman is sleeping with someone who is paying her...what does that sound like?” Horror dawned on your face. “It may not be exactly like being a call girl, but it’s dangerous nonetheless. What is to stop a girl from entering a romantic relationship and then when things go sour she turns around and accuses him of pressuring her into it because he is paying her salary? What’s to stop clients from expecting that kind of added service.”

“But you know I’m not like that…”

“I know, but Y/N,” her voice dropped low so that only you could hear, “you need to be very careful. I wont say anything because I am your friend, but he is a public figure too. He’s got paparazzi around him all the time. If anything happens...keep it behind closed doors until you have decided to end your contract with him. If the higher ups hear about anything...it will cost you your job.” You nodded vigorously and she stared at you. “Does he make you happy?”

“Like you can’t imagine Sylvia.” You breathed. “He’s so good with his kids, and he treats me like I am his top priority. He’s always made me feel like I’m part of the family. He is so amazing and when I’m with him my stomach is filled with butterflies and my heart is in overtime.”

“Good. You deserve to be happy. I will do everything I can to field and screen social media and stories.”

“Thank you Sylv. You really are the best.” You hugged her again. “Alright, I gotta sit down for my eval paperwork and submit my last round of travel receipts. Do I go to the back conference room?”

“Yeah, Trish should be back there soon. She just got back from maternity last week.” You gave her a nod.

“Thank you Sylvia.” When she waved you off you caught her eye. “No, I mean it. Thank you.”

“Of course, Y/N. You deserve the best.” You smiled at her and she winked before you turned and made your way back to the conference room.

~~~

You sat in your car, in Misha’s driveway, staring at the little bag of clothes in your passenger seat. You were an adult, and knew very well what adults did, but staring at the little bag felt a touch like you were doing something naughty. It was taking your relationship to the next level and it was a heady moment. With one deep breath you grabbed the little bag and exited your car. Misha opened the door and smiled at you as you made your way up to the front door and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey,” you said as he watched you approach.

“Hey.” He leaned in to kiss you but you dodged. He cast you a confused and slightly hurt look before shutting the door. “Everything ok?”

“Uhm, yeah. Just got some news at my eval. Nothing to worry about though.” You answered before gently stretching up to give him the kiss he wanted. You felt his hands land on your hips before sliding up and around your back.

“Well, good. I have it on good authority that your employer left a glowing review.” He teased before kissing you and you smiled into the kiss.

“Since I’m amazing at my job I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He let out an agreeing noise before sealing your lips in another kiss. His tongue traced your lips before entering your mouth and tangling with your own. You melted into the kiss, your body going languid and hot in his arms. Somehow without you noticing he’d pressed you back a step or two and you felt the solid wood of his front door behind you. You could feel his hardness pressed against you and it sent a zing of excitement through you. You wanted him so bad.

One of his hands slid down your back to gently grab your thigh and haul it up over his hip, pressing his arousal right where you both wanted it most. You let out a whimper as he ground into you. His lips trailed away from your mouth, down your jaw to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I made a reservation for us at that little Italian restaurant down the way that you like.” he rumbled into your skin before nipping and kissing you again.

“Oh, Misha,” you panted, “that sounds…” you froze as his words penetrated the thick fog of want you were in. “Wait - no!” you cried. Misha jumped in your arms, freezing and looking at you. “We can’t go out in public.” you pleaded.

“What? Y/N, why?” Concern flicked over his face and you sighed.

“I learned something at my eval meeting today.” His hands gently fell away from you as the mood was thoroughly broken. You sighed. “Before you think anything crazy, I want you to know, I want to go out with you in public. I don’t want to hide this. I mean I’m nervous about what others are going to say, but I want this.” you grabbed his hand gently. “If we go public right now I will lose my job.” Misha jerked back and looked at you.

“What?” He stared at you completely and utterly confused. You let out another heavy sigh and tugged on his hand to move away from the door. You wanted to at least sit down while you explained. You sat on his couch and pulled him to sit next to you.

“So, Sylvia, my friend, and I were talking,” you started, “and she knows about ‘us.’ Or rather she knows you and I are leaning towards there being and ‘us.’” He gave a small, slow nod. “And she told me about a company policy that I’d never heard of before. I’d never considered company policy on the matter before, honestly. You’re the only...I’ve never...this isn’t…” you trailed off and watched as a smile touched his eyes, realizing you were admitting that you’d never developed feelings for or started a relationship with a client before. You were so cute when you were flustered. “Anyway, she told me that company policy is that if a nanny and a client are found in this sort of situation the nanny is fired. No warning. No second chances. Done, and basically blacklisted.” You took a steadying breath, “If we want to go public, we need to terminate our contract.”

“Ok,” he started slowly, “so we do that.” he said it so matter of factly it made you want to laugh.

“Misha, that means I wont be able to be here all the time. That means I wont be going to Vancouver with you anymore. I wont get to see and spend time with the kids, or you, like I do now.”

“Why not?”

“I still need to work.” Realization started to dawn in his eyes. “I don’t want to stop working, but if we’re in a relationship that means I can’t work for you. So I would have to be hired on as a nanny with another family, and while I can opt out of traveling, it would still take up a bunch of my time. We told West and Maison that nothing would change right away.” He paused to think about it.

“No, we need you here.” He agreed. “Couldn’t you leave the agency and just work for me while being with me?” Before the sentence even left his mouth he knew that wasn’t going to work.

“Misha, we are so new, and that is basically asking me to be your live-in girlfriend.” You gave him an awkward smile, “Actually it’s more like being a kept woman.” You shrugged a little, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Imagine if we don’t work out. I’m left with nothing. No job. No support. Nothing to fall back on.” A look of hurt crossed Misha’s face.

“You really don’t think we’re going to work out?” You touched his cheek, “Or that I’d leave you ass out like that if we didn’t?”

“No, I don’t think you’d do that.” You had to give him credit. He and Vicki had ended amicably and had made sure each other were taken care of so no one was hurting at the end. It wasn’t bitter, and you had no doubts he’d make sure you were steady on your own two feet rather than leave you out in the cold. “But I’m a planner. I have to plan for the worst and hope for the best. I jump to the worst case scenario so that I’m prepared for everything. It’s part of what makes me so good at my job.” He gave a nod and then let out a slow sigh.

“Alright. So we don’t go public right now.” You nodded. “But we are going to have to figure out what to do about this. I don’t want to have to hide forever.” You nodded again.

“I don’t either. I know it’s going to be an adjustment with you being famous, but I want that. I just have to figure out what to do with my job.” He nodded and then hugged you.

“Alright.” His hands came up to clasp your jaw in his palms and he looked into your eyes. “You’re right. We need to be smart about this. Slow and steady with the public stuff. When we’re both ready we’ll figure it out.” You smiled at him. “I just…” he let out a pent up breath. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding sappy, but you make me happy Y/N and I want to show that off to the world. It’s hard to pretend like there isn’t anything between us when we’re in public. But I will do my best to keep my hands to myself.” He grinned mischievously, “At least in public...at least for now.” You grinned back at him.

“Good.” He pulled you to him to kiss you.

“Well, since dinner plans are changing, lets go see what we have that we can make…” you both stood, “or,” he started his eyes trailing over your body, “we could order in and I could eat take out off your body in my bed.” A laugh escaped your throat. “You’re right, that’s a tad messy.” He wrinkled his nose. “Let’s go scour the kitchen then.”

~~~

Misha’s eyes watched you from across the room. No matter how many times he told you not to, there you were, standing at his sink loading his dishwasher while he packed away the leftovers from dinner. To say your earlier conversation had thrown him a curveball would have been an understatement, but honestly it was just enough of a wake up call to keep his head on straight. Yes you’d both decided to be more than just employer and nanny, but he did lead a very public life and you needed to ease into that. This little hiccup would help him to ease you into the public and see if it was something you even liked. If you decided you wanted to stay behind the scenes he’d gladly do that too, so long as he got to have you. Now that he let himself feel the feelings he’d been trying to push away and hide, he wasn’t going to let you get away.

He was telling the truth when he said you made him happy. Having you around made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were easy going and everyone loved having you around. Just a look from you could have his heart thumping and his blood heating. Keeping his hands to himself was tough, but now did he really need to anymore?

With that thought he moved quickly and quietly behind you. As you straightened from loading the last dish into the dishwasher you felt Misha behind you and spun around to look at him. The heat and hunger in his eyes had your blood racing and without a second thought you stretched up to kiss him. Your lips met, and parted, as if in a primal dance for dominance but neither of you really cared who would win. You felt his hands grip your legs and lift you up onto the counter, and you pulled him closer to you, circling and trapping him with your legs.

Gently his fingers traced the skin of your stomach before dragging your shirt up off your body and dropping it to the floor. His lips trailed from yours down your neck to your collar bones before settling on the swell of your breast. His deft hands found the clasp of your bra and soon it was laying in a heap on the floor in his kitchen along with your shirt. Electric shocks shot through you as his tongue swirled around first one then the other nipple. You gripped his shoulders, a soft sigh slipping from your mouth as he explored your body. You felt him shift as he moved lower, dragging his tongue along the hem of your pants. “Misha…” you whined as the button popped and the zipper lowered. He stood, his lips going to yours as his fingers dipped into your pants to touch and tease at your clit. The electricity that flowed through your body at his touch had you weak in the knees and your back arched as you gripped the edge of the counter behind you.

He watched your face as he touched you, mesmerized by the way your features morphed and changed as the pleasure moved through you. You were so beautiful. He wanted you. He wanted to taste you, and hear you, and feel you as you took all the pleasure he could give you until neither of you could move any more. His lips captured yours as his fingers circled the tender, swollen bundle of nerves, swallowing your groan. “Y/N…” he groaned as he teased you and rocked his body into yours. He slid his hand under your leg, gripping the rim of the sink with his hand, and hiked it up higher as your breath caught in your throat. He slid his hand lower, his longest finger entering you while his thumb rubbed insistent circles.

Your head was foggy and you felt almost drunk of the pleasure assaulting your senses. You weren’t going to last much longer and you wrenched your lips away, sucking in air as you panted towards the sky. “Yes, Misha.” You whimpered. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You practically begged as you felt your body cresting the mountain of pleasure before you. You leaned back, bracing one hand on the counter and gripping his shirt and shoulder with the other. You watched his hand move in and out of you, the skin of his wrist flexing as the cloth of your panties moved with his hand. You dragged your eyes up to his and the heat and hunger in his eyes was enough to have you falling over the edge. Your back arched as you froze and held your breath through the first waves of pleasure.

“Let me hear you, Y/N.” Misha’s gravelly voice begged into your ear. With the next pulse a moan slipped from your lips and you felt Misha shutter while watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as your body hummed before relaxing against his chest.

“Misha,” you took a breath, “that was...oh my god.” You looked up at him and marveled at the satisfied grin on his face. You could feel him still hard and insistent, pressed up against you. He pulled his hand from your pants, hungry eyes examining the wet glistening on his fingers. You watched with lust filled eyes as he stuck his finger in his mouth and licked it clean. “My turn…” you panted as you reached for the button on his jeans.

“Wait,” Misha stilled your hands with his, “if you touch me right now I wont be able to last, and I want to be inside you when I finish. This is not where I want our first time to be.” He took a steadying breath before letting your leg drop down and scooping you close to him again. You captured his lips with yours before gently pushing him away from the counter and hopping down yourself. Your eyes met his and you took his hand before slowly leading him down the hall to his room. There was so much more you wanted to explore...this was only the beginning.

Taglist:

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @big-to-beautiful @greenappleeyesdean @lilo-efuru @shikaros-blog @fireismysaftey @iconicxcasifer @cannonindeez @tsunderecamour @fluffycascat @rhishklish @awkwardnesshabitat @earthtokace

If you would like to be added to my taglist please send me an ask (otherwise I might lose the request/forget.) Thank you!!

#misha x reader #mishaxreader #Misha x You #misha x y/n #misha rpf #bcmasterlist

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retphienix · 4 years

Video

youtube

I’ll do a poor job post commentating in text as I watch this again because this was pretty fun to see.

- I immediately laughed at “It’s bigger than I thought it would be” because it’s honestly and entirely smaller than I thought it would be- it’s dinky for the heart of all life!

- Sylv is gold and I love him, of COURSE he jumps at the chance to touch the heart!

- I did NOT expect the goal to be the sword of light, possibly because I’m dense- I expected a spirit talk with the tree hinting at new treasures (maybe holy armor/head/sword) to find and tackle the demon.

- I also immediately thought “Crap... can I get uh... you know, like a GREAT sword of light? Maybe?

- Hero got plot armored AGAIN and you just know he got mad when he woke up to fight Jasper.

- I’m not the biggest fan of “Here’s an unwinnable fight” stuff. I don’t hate it, but speed it along. I prefer it when they give you one turn to attack and fail and then they just one shot you. I really don’t understand why I had to just sit here mashing X against Jasper?

- I’m not sure exactly what I expected Jasper’s role to be in all this, but right hand of the demon with full knowledge of it all wasn’t it. I think I thought he was just a manipulative scoundrel looking to backstab the entire kingdom for personal gain. Which, yeah, but I meant on a more human level and not gods and demons level.

- “And the king was in on it. And the king attacks Hendrik. And now the king strikes him down. And now the king - THERE it is!” A more obvious plot point couldn’t be made.

- That said, the king BEING the dark lord (or possessed, whatever) wasn’t my guess. Not surprising by any means, but I thought the KING was the one working with the dark lord knowingly and then Jasper was helping the king with his own evil motives.

- The dark lord stinks, his horns are dumb and I want to smack him.

- This moment was so important (and I agree!) that he plot’d me out of my ugly tone destroying armor! That’s not what I meant by plot armor!

- Now the dark lord STEALING the luminaire power, then stealing and corrupting the sword, then stealing the very power of yggdrasil- THAT whole twist wasn’t on my radar. I expected something like “We accomplish what we mean to here (in this case the sword but I expected just to listen to the tree) then in the final act the dark lord traps the tree and we save it by killing him” not all this! This was sick!

Genuinely!

Also it has (potentially) the added benefit of the next bout of gameplay being “how do we beat the dark lord without light’s power?” and making our own, but uh, eeeeeh. Let’s say I expect the story doesn’t go to “humanity finding a way” and instead goes to “You were the chosen one so we GOTTA make the chosen one again!” because chosen one stories are good or something I guess. Eh. Can’t win em all.

Or I’m double wrong and it DOES go to “I don’t need the chosen one god light powers to win because I have the power of friendship” and I cheer at the screen like a little kid! We’ll see.

#RetPlays #Dragon Quest XI #Dragon Quest 11 #Dragon Quest

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galattea · 4 years

Text

‘Til it Gets to Me

Ingrid Brandl Galatea; a character analysis or - the things to cross her mind as the world goes dark

Primary Pairing; Ingrid/Sylvain Words: 3,029 Ao3

I suppose "character analysis" is a bit of a loose term. I had initially intended to be much more direct about the deeper intricacies to Ingrid's personality and feelings, but it ended up becoming a lot more plot driven. I haven't written much (if anything at all) for FE3H and I haven't publicly posted a work in what is almost two years now, so forgive any formatting errors along the way.

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Broken voices compete with the sounds of metal tearing into metal. They harmonize in a way that makes Ingrid’s spine grow rigid. She’s high above it all, hot wind nipping at her knuckles as she loops her stallion’s reins over them once more. She raises her left arm and then levels it horizontally. A cacophony of battle cries and beating pegasus wings is the response as her fleet scatters to their assigned directions before she herself leans forward and feels the weight of her mount follow her. In one practiced movement, Ingrid draws Lúin from her back and shifts her grip.

They’re nearing the ground now — Ingrid can feel her hair slick itself back against the wind as she raises her lance toward the group of archers she’s taken to targeting. She catches one through the shoulder before her pegasus has even met the ground, and is directing her full momentum towards the smaller one a few feet away when she feels the air around her spark with electricity.

Fuck.

Of course she had expected defensive measures to be put in place the first time she’d lead her fleet to pick off the empire’s ranged soldiers while those on the true battlefield dealt with their familiar swords and spears. But they’d caught her off guard by waiting.

Ingrid tugs her reins sharply to the left and meets eyes with a mage twice her size. She knows better than to try and take him out alone with two bowmen still standing behind her, and before she can fling herself into more danger than necessary she presses her heel to the base of her mount’s wing and is airborne before the crack of lightning hits where she had just been. She prays to the goddess that she didn’t just kill off the rest of her air support by overusing a strategy and watches the ground beneath her grow smaller.

She scans the battlefield as quickly as she can before deciding her next move. Deciding it best to continue her attacks behind enemy lines, Ingrid targets her next dive toward a more isolated corner of the fight.

Her heart thrums in her chest, emerald eyes locked on the dark head of hair she is heading straight towards. She can feel the determination to right her errors by pulling as much weight as she possibly can bubble up in her throat as a battle cry.

But it fizzles out in the air as the wind is knocked directly from her.

The shrill cry of her pegasus brings her eyes to its neck. Three arrows are buried there, blood staining the silver coat in which they found their mark. Ingrid is acutely aware now that she is falling backwards, the beating of her mount’s wings stilled. She knows exactly what this means for her.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Ingrid had never been ashamed of her home in Galatea. It was a noble house, after all, and it had been maintained as well as possible since her county’s golden days. That didn’t change the fact that it was fairly small, or the way that its age was ever present in the now lackluster walls and furnishings.

That was, until she had begun spending time in the homes of her friends.

She knew she was a much lower name on the list of Faerghus’ nobles, but as a child what that really meant had never quite crossed her mind. It was on her first visit with her father to Fraldarius that she realized just how quaint her lifestyle truly was.

But it was in there that she felt the most comfortable - where most of her childhood leisure was spent. It was in Fraldarius that she fell face first in love for the first time.

(She would later realize that love wasn’t the word for what she had felt for Glenn, but rather a naive childhood admiration.)

The elder Fraldarius had made a brash first impression on Ingrid when she was freshly eight. She had seen him train many times from afar by then, but never had they spoken. It wasn’t until she all but slammed face first into him as she chased Felix through the long hallways that Ingrid heard his voice for the first time.

“A knight is worth nothing with his head in his arse.”

Ingrid knew not why he spoke such a phrase to her, but something about the annoyed look on his face made her recoil back in shame.

After that Ingrid found herself enraptured by Glenn. She spent the next year lingering longer than she ever had in front of the training area in which he spent his time. He was so young and so gifted -- his body flowing effortlessly with each swing of his sword and the concentration on his face never faltering. She was awestruck. She wanted to watch him forever.

Ingrid’s designation soon changed from her “Glenn’s betrothed” to “underpaid babysitter.” With her fiancé’s training becoming more and more serious, her ability to spectate became less and less frequent. Instead, she found herself chasing the bright red hair of Sylvain Gautier through the courtyard of Dimitri’s summer home in Fhirdiad, an enraged Felix at her side. Sylvain’s laughter had rang through the well manicured trees like a bell. -- And then Ingrid is thirteen and her whole world comes crashing down. The news of the tragedy reaches her bedroom in Galatea well into the night and she finds her mouth agape and heartbeat stopped. She feels a pang she had never known could exist in anything but books. It is in the same hour that she swears her life upon becoming a knight.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The monastery fills Ingrid with dread, but her attitude changes the moment her gaze passes the stables. It is there that her passion for riding is sparked. Of course she had spent years alongside noble horses, but never before a creature so magnificent as those that were housed at Garreg Mach. Her spare time is quickly invested in offering her aid in whatever way possible. Between her studies and time caring for the pegasi, Ingrid finds herself enjoying the company of new friends in a way she had not expected. Ashe is quick to grow on her; he is soft and kind and lingers around the stables some evenings to watch her work and discuss old stories of knights. Annette and Mercedes take much more time to acquire her fondness -- she never dislikes them, only struggles to warm up to their constant begging for her to indulge them and their games of dress up. It is through them that Ingrid realizes she has a much repressed fondness for skirts, and she finds herself looking forward to their interactions more and more. Her childhood friends, however, offer a much different company. She spends many lunches conversing with Felix and Dimitri over their studies and many more evenings sparring with Felix as he aids in her swordsmanship. It is Sylvain that she finds the most troublesome. Since they were little he had always been a man after any woman’s heart, but with the introduction of freedom he had become quite the serial flirt. She knows deep down that he is doing it to rebel against the version of himself that his father projects upon him, that he harbors no true malintent towards the hearts he breaks, and it is for that reason that she continues to clean up after him despite her complaints. She does not acknowledge the strange twist she feels in her gut every time he leaves the room early to go entertain some maiden. -- Luin’s arrival to the monastery is something Ingrid does not expect. Her father was never a fan of the way his daughter had turned from a princess with her hand belonging to a fine noble into a knight with no care for romance alongside his sons, and she takes the offering of House Galatea’s relic as acknowledgment and approval of her choices. She feels honored.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

A soft knock upon her door startles Ingrid awake and she hoists herself from her bed. It’s well after midnight, she notes, lighting the oil lamp beside her bed and opening the door. On the other side she sees the back of Sylvain’s head as he turns down the hall. She clears her throat and he halts, a sheepish look on his face as he turns back to face her. There’s a cut on his upper lip, and dried blood caked in his hair. She blanches. “Where in hell-” She is already scolding as she ushers the taller boy into her room, “How? Sylvain, what in the name of Seiros are you doing here instead of an infirmary.” “If you wanted me in an infirmary so bad you wouldn’t have just brought me into your room,” he points out. It takes everything in her not to slap him. He perches on the edge of her bed as Ingrid digs furiously through the drawers of her vanity meant to store powders and makeup. Instead, she withdraws a glass bottle and a cloth. Her footsteps are silent as she pads back towards her bed and seats herself on her knees beside him. There is something about seeing Sylvain hurt that twists her stomach. She watches her hand intently as she raises the now damp piece of fabric to the side of his head, pretending not to notice the way he leans into her touch. There is no grimace or complaint as she gently rubs the alcohol over what appears to be an impact wound, presumably from another man’s armor. “You’re not seeing double, are you?” “No ma’am,” Sylvain responds, and Ingrid is once again overcome with the urge to backhand him. The cut takes a good moment to clean, with delicate fingers struggling to part bloodied hair without causing any unnecessary pain. When it is nothing more than a bright pink and angry line in his scalp, Ingrid sits back on her haunches. She folds the cloth, spending far too much time finding a clean spot before gently raising it to the bottle of alcohol again. She sets the glass back upon her bedside table before placing her hand on Sylvain’s cheek. Butterflies erupt in her stomach as their eyes meet. She can’t fight the urges -- can’t stop herself from leaning forward. He watches her, confusion written in his expression. They flicker to her lips. She closes her eyes. His lips are soft, terribly so, she notes as they meld together. Ingrid swears they stay like that for hours, lips moving softly against one another, before she realizes what she’s doing and draws back. Sylvain’s eyes are wide, but he hadn’t stopped her. He had even returned the kiss. “Ing-” “Out of my room,” she feels the harshness in her voice and the blood rushing to her cheeks but she refuses to look at him. He stalls for a moment, gaze boring holes into every inch of her skin, and then retreats. Ingrid is left in candlelit silence. Tears stream down her face as the alcohol from the cloth soaks into her clenched fist. She doesn’t meet his gaze again for a week.

There is some sort of silent agreement in place as Ingrid sets her books down on the table and seats herself right beside Felix. Her head falls to his shoulder and he doesn’t flinch or tense or shove her away. Instead, he rests his cheek on her forehead. A vigil is held in the cathedral, in which candles are lit and silence hangs heavy over students who never knew the fallen. To Ingrid it feels wrong and disgusting to put her grief on display in front of her peers. She assumes Felix feels much the same. There are no words for how they feel. The past four years they had spent in a wordless pact to protect one another where they couldn’t protect Glenn. Ingrid laces her fingers through his and feels warmth trickle down her face. There is no ceremony that can aid the ache she feels. So they sit in their own silence, pressed against each other as though the world depends on it.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

In all of her years spent there, Ingrid had never recalled Galatea being so suffocating. She doesn’t know how to feel. In one beat she wishes to be fighting in defense of her prince like she had always sworn herself to, but in the next she feels herself seethe at the mere idea of enabling Dimitri’s rampage. It feels like she’s fighting an uphill battle with her own ideals. But it is her father that brings her to a decision. Count Galatea had never truly enjoyed his daughter’s sudden desire to fight on the frontlines. Ingrid knew this much, and saw it evidenced in the way she found herself followed by suitors at least once a week. She tries to remind herself that it is because he cares about her. “It’s nice to have you home,” he is seated behind his desk, arms folded on the heavy oak. “It is nice to be home,” Ingrid smiles. “I’m glad to finally have my daughter off the battlefield.” Ingrid’s smile falters. She says nothing as she leaves his office. Her fingers wind through her hair and suddenly it is far too long for her taste. Without a second thought, she pulls an old pair of scissors from her desk. That night, she leaves for Garreg Mach.

She doesn’t miss the expression on Felix’s face as her mount trots toward the courtyard. Sylvain is poised at his side, a grin plastered upon his face. They both look so much different, although she supposes the same could be said for herself. “You’re late,” Sylvain calls. Something in Ingrid’s chest reacts to his voice. “Goddess forbid,” she laughs, swinging off her stallion as she reaches the two of them. “Nice hair,” Felix’s expression doesn’t change as he speaks, but she supposes she’ll take it as a compliment. Her old dorm is exactly as it had been left. Ingrid doesn’t let her mind linger on that for too long as she unclasps her breastplate and places the heavy armor on her old bed. Sylvain clears his throat from the doorway and she jumps. “So what made Galatea change its mind?” She shrugs at him, not meeting his eyes as she works to take off the rest of her armor. She can feel him roll his eyes. “Did you finally get sick of your father?” “Possibly.” He laughs at this, closing the door behind him and seating himself in her old desk chair. He looks a mess now that she sees him up close; the circles under his eyes are deep and his voice is hoarse. “He's still trying to send you off?” “Trying to keep me off the battlefield, more like,” Ingrid smooths out her blouse. “Not many suitors to be called upon when the majority are out here.” “I suppose,” he agrees, and she hopes she isn’t imagining the relief that flickers across his face. “And yourself?” the question leaves her mouth before she can think twice about it. “No ma’am,” he chuckles, leaning against the back of his chair. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Ingrid’s fingers search frantically for leverage in the thin linen of Sylvain’s shirt as he kisses her. It isn’t the same as it was when she had kissed him all those years ago. It’s hot and it’s fast and there’s the weight of their own lives on their shoulders that presses them closer together. The mat on the floor of the makeshift tent isn’t the most comfortable thing Ingrid has ever been kissed on, but she doesn’t object as calloused hands lay her down. The fire outside is dim now, but its light pokes through the fabric that covers them and bounces off of Sylvain’s features like artwork. His eyes are heavy and his breathing is ragged as he strains against the bandage wrapped taut around his shoulder to lean over her. In the middle of this war, Ingrid is in heaven. They fall into each other, desperate to communicate words they don’t have time for in heated touches until they’re holding each other as though they’ll never see each other again once they’ve let go. It is there that Ingrid decides it. She is in love with Sylvain. She has been, since they were teenagers. It feels like a shot to the chest as she acknowledges this -- allowing herself to admit love for someone who was not Glenn after so many years. She doesn’t say it, but Sylvain knows. There is no way he doesn’t. He doesn’t return it, though, that much she is aware of. He holds her to his chest and breathes in her hair, and Ingrid allows herself to believe that, just for that moment, he is hers. That night she falls asleep to the sound of his breathing. —

Someone is screaming her name from a distance but she doesn’t turn to investigate. Her right is crushed under the weight of her long dead pegasus and her head is swimming.

“Ingrid -” she can make out a dark head of hair approaching her, can feel arms pulling her from beneath the horse. The aching has long stopped alongside the thudding of hooves and cries of soldiers. The battle is over.

She’s slung over someone’s back and he smells so familiar.

“We did it,” he’s saying in a voice she recognizes but with a strain she doesn’t. “We won, Ing. You did it.”

She coughs, something wet dripping from her lips.

“Glenn,” her voice is hardly a whisper. The person holding her stills. “I did it, Glenn.”

“You did,” the voice breaks.

“Don’t cry,” she’s smiling but she doesn’t register it, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ing,” he replies, followed by a choked sob.

Her eyes are suddenly too heavy to bear. Her breathing stalls.

It is to the sound of Felix’s cries to a goddess that won’t answer that lull her to rest.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #sylvain jose gautier #sylvgrid #ingrid brandl galatea #fanfiction #im really sorry #she loves him and it sucks

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scorpiongrassfield · 1 year

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Pat Has Returned

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Theo’s faded back into his usual state.

“Okay. I’m calmer now. I’m sorry for the uh, heated, reaction,” Pat says. “Are you sure you’re okay, kid? No putting on a brave face this time.”

They look… Tired. And worried.

“I’m sure. She didn’t really hurt me. She just said she wanted to,” you explain.

This does not improve their expression.

“I. Sense that I am… missing... something here?” Theo says, tentative.

Pat blows out a slow breath. They seem to be waffling on something.

“Mm… Not too keen on airing out our dirty laundry here, but you seem pretty trustworthy. Sylv, do you mind? I bet you need a refresher too, huh?” They say eventually.

You shrug. Theo suddenly seems a lot more suspicious than he did an hour ago, but you Do want to know what’s going on. You always do.

Pat nods. “Right. So. My dear associate here,” Pat gestures to you, “Has a habit of getting into dangerous situations and then not telling me that he got hurt or that someone is trying to kill him.”

Theo gives you a look of concern but you just shrug again.

“This is, of course, Extremely Worrying. And also dangerous. Like the time he didn’t tell me he was being haunted and then a ghost burned half our house down,” Pat grumps.

Ah.

Oops.

“Even if that weren’t the case though I’d still want to hear about you getting attacked, kid. We’re a team, y’know,” they say, this time directly addressing you.

You nod. “Next time I’ll tell you,” you promise. If you remember.

Pat doesn’t look quite convinced, but they don’t press the point further.

“So. You were attacked by a woman who was loitering around Theo’s house. Theo. You got any women who frequent your house or the area around it?” Pat says, sounding more like their usual self again.

Theo purses his lips as he thinks. “Well. To my house, no. I don’t get many guests. And the only woman that comes around is Courney… She hasn’t visited in months, though. I… highly doubt she would come now. Or attack a stranger unprovoked,” Theo says in his typical slow and measured manner.

“But outside your house is a different story?” Pat prompts.

Theo nods. “Oh. Yes. I leave my property open to foragers… And any other people who wish to pass through. I’ve been told there are good mushroom spots somewhere in there?” he says.

Pat nods, and makes some notes in their notebook. “Okay, that doesn’t narrow down the suspects much…” they say. “Can you describe the woman for us, kid? Maybe she’ll ring a bell.”

So you do. Tall, blonde, fair skin, wearing a ruffly burgundy dress and black platform boots, deceptively strong for how slight she looked…

About half way through your description of her, Pat stops their pen on the page where they were sketching and instead starts looking very concerned.

“Did she have a mole right here?” Pat says, tapping on their upper cheek.

You think about it. “I think so?” You weren’t paying attention when she was pinning you down, but you’re pretty sure you saw one on the portrait.

“Fuck,” Pat says. And then again with more feeling “Fuck!”

“Is that… bad?” Theo asks.

“Well it sure isn’t good,” Pat says dryly.

“So this is someone you know, not someone from around here?” you ask.

Pat covers their face in their hands and rubs at their eyes. “Sounds like it. She’s a, uh, an old acquaintance of mine I met through work,” they say.

“Oh. Another paranormal investigator?” Theo asks.

Pat sighs heavily. “Worse. She’s an exorcist,” they say, like that explains everything.

“I think. We are once again missing part of the picture,” Theo says. His bowl of soup is no longer there. You don’t recall anyone coming by to take it.

“Yeah. Aren’t exorcists good? Don’t they stop ghosts from possessing people?” you ask.

“Kind of? Sometimes? Though the way she was acting towards you, I almost think she might be possessed herself,” Pat mutters.

They flop back against the booth and sigh again.

“Okay. I guess it’s ghosts 101 for beginners day. Let’s get started. Exorcists, or at least the sort that Ametrine is, completely eradicate a ghost. Wipe them out of existence. Their soul is toast. Literally,” Pat explains.

Theo winces.

“Now. If you’ve got a ghost harassing you or trying to burn your house down or something, that might sound like a good, if extreme, solution,” they say with a nonchalant shrug.

“But! As we already discussed. Not all ghosts are in the business of haunting people in the traditional sense. Imagine: you’re lost and scared and hurt, and all you want is someone to help you, and then Bam!” Pat throws up their hands with the onomatopoeia for emphasis. “Some lady comes along and burns your soul right off this plane of existence. Just for ‘not having the grace’ to move on or whatever,” Pat says.

“You.. seem to disapprove of her methods,” Theo states the obvious.

Pat snorts derisively.

“What does she want with me then? I’m not a ghost,” you point out.

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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all-pacas · 4 years

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Hiiii I just finished reading your sylvendrik fanfic and I am just. COMPLETELY blown away by the amount of artistry that went into it. The memories were melded so smoothly throughout the story and when Sylv was shouting at Hendrik in the end I legit cried. It’s also so cool that you’re also into Critical Role too!!! I know it’s been a while but if u have any sylvendrik headcanons or ideas I’d love to hear it! If not that’s okay too, I just wanted to let u know ur writing really moved me <3

oh, thank you so much! trust me that i still love dq11 and that i am so excited that S is getting ported to PS4, i cannot wait to play it again, i love these idiots and i love this franchise! i’m glad you like my hasty and sadly abandoned story, too!!

i don’t know if i have any headcanons exactly… but gosh, i am still just a sucker for like… childhood friends who go on different paths in life and meet as adults, first as enemies and then allies? and are both knights? like? the moment hendrik had that big stupid moment in the game where he realized he knew sylv and sylv was just like lololol u idiot, i was so sold. plus then they literally got like… mirrored skill trees that unlocked together? i love how different they are on the surface but at their hearts are both loving caretakers who are Knights and want to Protect, and how they grow from one another — hendrik learning to loosen up and allow himself the concept of friendship, and sylv learning that there is value in taking things serious rather than laughing it off and literally running away… dumb knights! i love it!!

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swampgallows · 6 years

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I've been rereading War Crimes and been wondering if Christie Golden had other hopes/plans for Sylv's character arc or if her current predicament just represents the logical conclusion of what we see of her in the novels and post-WoD WoW. What are your thoughts/care to reiterate current stance on Sylv as a fellow horde player?

This has been in my ask box a long time because I’ve wanted to reply to this properly and possibly reread War Crimes again in order to have a more fleshed-out answer, but as far as Golden’s characterization in War Crimes all I remember is the weird incest vibe going on with her sister. As a younger sister myself, I would balk out of my MIND if my sister started clutching my hands and “Little Moon”-ing me the way Sylvanas did to Vereesa. It’s like literally all I remember about her in that book, lmao. I’m also an older sister as well, but to a younger brother, and though he has many childhood nicknames there’s no way I’d be cooing at him with those as an adult, especially if I were trying to console him mourning over his murdered spouse.

As far as Sylvanas’ current arc: I know Garrosh 2.0 is a tired argument, but both now suffer a drastic character shift with extremely flimsy or obfuscated motivation. When things were slowly percolating up to the Siege of Orgrimmar, the fanbase (allegedly, as I was not playing during MoP) was still left scratching their heads over Garrosh’s character shift. Even with all the books, comics, cinematics, and questlines, there was still no explicit cut-and-dry understanding of how Garrosh went from celebrated war hero to chaotic evil villain.

I haven’t conducted the same amount of research on Sylvanas that I have on Garrosh, but my point is that it really shouldn’t be required to understand why self-destruction is Sylvanas’ “logical conclusion”. If there’s any major gripe that I have with any of Blizzard’s writing, it’s the fact that, up until Legion, character—and even campaign—motivations have been extremely vague, sacrificed in favor of comic book action sequences or pulpy one-liners (”What a king must do.”). I’m not saying everything should be spelled out, but that basic questions of “What are we doing and why?” shouldn’t need to be hunted down through five different types of media (and even then, the source material is vague).

Blizzard assured players that the burning of Teldrassil was not what it seemed, that Sylvanas would be cemented in a “morally gray” area, and that all of our questions would be answered with the Warbringers short. And what motives did we glean from that animatic?

“Can’t I?”

BUT GALLOWS, THE FLASHBACK— you know what’s not a reaction to trauma and feeling like you couldn’t save your own people? Killing them. You know what completely goes against all of Sylvanas’ legitimately morally gray actions—conscripting the val’kyr, using the blight, the search to preserve her people (even seeking the aid of Helya and attempting to enslave Eyir)? KILLING HER OWN PEOPLE. And to be perfectly clear, I am referring not to Teldrassil but to the Battle of Lordaeron where Sylvanas is using her people, the Forsaken, as ammo and meatshields. How is this her “logical conclusion”? Not pointing fingers at you, necessarily, but what is Sylvanas’ goal if not to save her people?

When someone asks the question, “Why did Sylvanas burn Teldrassil?” it shouldn’t require a Pepe Silvia paper trail to answer. It shouldn’t require a Bible-level citation of one line of a psalm in the seventh Book of Christie which says it was actually Saurfang’s idea. The real answer, which she reveals in a very-skippable dialog box of the time-sensitive War of Thorns event and also in the delayed-release online novellas Elegy / A Good War, is that she was cutting off the Alliance’s route to azerite. Darnassus and Teldrassil as a whole are the largest territories the Alliance has claimed on Kalimdor; with Theramore already rubble and Teldrassil in flames, the Alliance has virtually no way of getting azerite to their larger territories on the Eastern Kingdoms.

Now, to me, a nuclear arms race like that is morally gray. There is no easy answer. But even a line like “now the azerite is ours”, or something to that effect, isn’t present in the more substantial media (like the short), which might make it a better standalone piece but suffers an actual connection to the events of the game.

So how does stymieing the war for azerite translate into raising your already twice-dead people as skeletons to keep fighting? Using the Blight? Blighting your own capital, evacuated or not? Forcibly turning the deceased? When you create a new Forsaken, the val’kyr gives you the option to embrace your new life or to be returned to your grave. It it a heavy and intimate interaction that asks consent; raising your soldiers again as blighted skeletons mid-battle is not.

For where things are in the story now, I have absolutely NO idea what Sylvanas is thinking or what her motives are. I feel like a lot of this is intentionally (hopefully, hopefully) left up to speculation and possibly culminating later down the line as BFA unfolds. She did all of those questionable things in the past for the sake of going to great lengths to get her revenge on Arthas and end the Scourge while also avenging her people, the Forsaken, and ensuring that they do not die out. This is most certainly “morally gray”, and in my opinion one of the most stirring and provocative threads of controversy in Warcraft’s entire lore: is it ethical to perpetuate the Forsaken people?

I have mained a Forsaken since 2005, but even as a wee little Andorhal plaguelet neither me nor my character have ever trusted Sylvanas. I understood that she was among the more powerful of the Forsaken, and without her taking advantage of Arthas when he was weak and rallying us initially there may not have even been the Forsaken. However, I always found it unnerving that there was no once-human Lordaeronian representation for the Forsaken. Under Sylvanas and Varimathras it felt a lot like me and my fellow farmer peasant buddies were getting screwed out of something.

Enter Putress, who has a sick fucking plague doctor mask but materialized from nothing, and all of a sudden we were doing favors for this previously-unheard of Grand Apothecary. I was skeptical and so were many of my Forsaken peers, and it turns out our intuition hadn’t fully rotted away, as then the Wrathgate ensued. Lilian Voss seems somewhat promising as an actual Forsaken figurehead, but it’s taken her five expansions to steadily climb the ranks of importance.

But why would anyone follow Sylvanas now? What’s in it for them? At least among the goblins and the orcs following Garrosh they gained an illusion of supremacy and a promise of conquest and power; what’s in it for Sylvanas’ followers? Just obeying orders? A slice of the azerite pie? Fear that there is no choice? Is it an honor to sacrifice our lives for the Dark Lady, as it was Ishi and the Kor’kron’s honor to allow Garrosh to experiment on them with the Divine Bell?

Vol’jin had “never trusted” Sylvanas, and we still don’t know the loa that told him to name her his successor. Saurfang says that “There is no honor in this.” So… what is up? Why do we give Sylvanas or Nathanos the time of day? I don’t datamine and I’ve only completed up to the current war campaign once so maybe I’m missing something, but I seriously have no idea what Sylvanas’ plans are.

Sayge’s Fortune #19: The Forsaken are up to something.

This time, we Forsaken don’t even know what it is.

#metacraft #world of warcraft #battle for azeroth #long post #thepoopdiary #ask #seatimeless #incest cw /

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