#solnishka1927
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name a famous occultist whomst you have hunted for sport, killed, cooked, and eaten. Bonus points for a small story detailing your exploits? (for the lying ask game)
I'll tell you one that I hunted down so well that you won't find shit about him on anymore. Adamantine Whistleduck. We got into a bit of a tizzy back in the 1340s and I swore an oath of vengeance to rid this world of him.
And then I did :)
I will not be detailing the exact ritual used, because I don't want any of you little shits undoing all that hard work, but I will say that it involved the urine of a dragon, a griffin's mucous, and the armpit hair of a mermaid, along with the late-night hunt of Whistleduck. It was...a very smelly ritual. None of that smelled good, especially when burnt.
But heyyy, now none of you have to deal with Whistleduck's pompous bullshit, so all's well that ends well.
~Jasper
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for the relationship asks: 82 and 87 for Melody and Starlight, if that's okay!
Heya!
OC Relationship Asks:
82. Make their relationship into a list of A03 tags.
OCxOC
Pre-established relationship
Found Family
Love Birds
Fluff
Romance
Wholesome lovers
Cute Bird Couple
Angst and Adventure
Memories and Melodies
Trinkets and Travels
Songs and Stars
87. If they ever lost one another in a public place, how do they find the other?
Starlight would listen for the sad, but melodic coos of her love or she would fly up into the air and look for the beautiful dove with the bleeding heart on her chest. She would know the sound and sight of her love without thought.
Melody would look for the radiant crow with the brilliant, twinkling eyes or she would coo for her love, singing a song that only Starlight would know.
Thanks for the ask!
~Crimson
#oc ;; starlight#friend oc ;; melody#otp ;; starlight x melody#headcanons#asked and answered#solnishka1927
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for the "blow up my ask box" thing... what's your favorite prehistoric animal? (can be dinosaurs or otherwise). optional hard mode that might be fun to research: favorite prehistoric animal whose fossils have been found in your country?
Heya, Solnishka!
Hmm.. great question! I personally adore prehistoric sharks, particularly Megalodon and Helicoprion, but all of them are really fascinating and unique. I also absolutely love me some Spinosaurids, especially Spinosaurus and Irritator.
As for prehistoric animal whose fossils have been found in my country: Pachycephalosaurus and Dracorex. I love those hardheaded babies!
Thanks so much for the ask!
~Crimson
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for the fanfic ask friday: headcanons on Soap's decision to pursue a military career and what went through his head during training and Selection?
Tbh, I feel like a combination of naivete and desperation spurred Soap's decision to join the military.
I haven't talked a lot about my Soap's home life, and I won't go super into detail here (because it involves some heavy topics) so to put it frankly, it wasn't...the greatest, lmao. He spent most of his life itching to be free of his mother and stepfather as soon as possible, no matter what it took. He also idolized his late father a lot, and saw him as a hero—in part because his father was also in the Army.
A lot of little things were at play in Soap's decision to join the military even within those broader situations, but that's the gist of it; he wanted to escape his family, and on some level, he wanted to emulate his father and prove...a lot of things that I won't get into here because it requires I untangle Soap's entire family dynamic and I don't think anyone wants to sift through a long ass post about that (<- nervous and also all of my lore is constantly subject to change).
As for what goes through his head, honestly I'm still kind of working that out? Tbh I feel like he would constantly be at odds with himself, questioning every little decision he makes and wondering if the path he took is going to lead to ruin. He refuses to give up, though, or take any opportunity he has to leave the military, because to him that would be failure. There are a lot of things factoring in his decision to undergo Selection and join the SAS too, and what keeps him going despite his self-doubt is his determination to see things through to the end. He wants to prove that he's capable.
#inbox#solnishka1927#not art#john soap mactavish#call of duty#he has a lot of imposter syndrome i think
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GHOST / SOAP SMUT FIC RECS || a handful of instant classics from ao3 (part 1/?)
mind the tags. in no particular order:
💀Somewhere Between Here and There by RedAdm1ral, solnishka1927
explicit | oneshot, 3k | praise kink, oral sex, hand jobs, top ghost
After Soap and Ghost escape from Las Almas and are on the road to Vargas’ safehouse, Soap finds himself wound up and reliving his first, unpleasant taste of guerrilla warfare. Ghost gets him out of his head.
💀Dullahan Knows My Name by aceijssafhit
explicit | oneshot, 6.5k | glove kink, blindfolds, rimming, top ghost
It starts when Soap notices the color of Ghost's eyes.
💀Wait For Me by aceijssafhit
explicit | complete, 3k | orgasm denial, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, top ghost
It's only a week. Soap can last that long without Ghost. Maybe.
💀Familiar as a Bottle and a Glass by queeniegalore
explicit | complete, 12k | dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, light dom/sub, top ghost
Soap makes bad choices, no one knows when banter crosses the line into flirting, and their comms definitely shouldn't be used like that. Somehow, despite themselves, they make it work.
💀give me something to believe in by Some_Dead_Guy
explicit | oneshot, 2k | praise kink, fluff, light feminization (if you squint), top soap
Ghost tastes like bourbon and gunpowder. And a bit like he was trying to break his face more than kiss him. (Or, Soap likes taking care of Ghost.)
💀I bet you'd look damned near gorgeous by kixyme
explicit | oneshot, 7k | praise kink, dom/sub undertones, first time, top soap
Soap follows Ghost into his motel room after they've finished with Price, Laswell, and Gaz at the bar. It may be the last time he sees him, and he'll take any closure he can get. So when something about Ghost is off, and Soap notices it, he can't help but be inclined to help his lieutenant out. Not when it's so easy, not when it's just Ghost.
💀Leaned in (for the shot) by Faendal
explicit | oneshot, 4k | semi-public sex, blindfolds, barebacking, top ghost
"Should I wait for you here, Sir?" Johnny asked. His heart pounded in his ears.They did this sometimes after a mission. Not often, but sometimes.
💀Stutter by m1ckstart
explicit | oneshot, 4k | fluff, hurt/comfort, life-affirming sex, top ghost
Ghost and Soap love each other. This is not up for dispute. They will never say those words out loud. This is also not up for dispute.
💀meet me in the middle with your guard down by concretecreature
explicit | oneshot, 2k | established relationship, possessive behavior, pwp, top ghost
Every lesson Soap's ever been taught about propriety goes out the window when it comes to Ghost, something dark and hungry and possessive within him needing everyone to know what he has. He wants to keep Ghost on a short leash, wants to sink claws into his skin so deeply that he tears sinew and reshapes muscles. Forget something so fickle as marriage; Soap would engrave his name on every one of Ghost’s bones if he could.
💀haunt me, then by concretecreature
explicit | oneshot, 2k | touch starved, hand jobs, hurt/comfort, dom soap
To become Ghost was to kill Simon Riley, to abandon human wants and needs because a ghost did not want or need. All that’s left behind is a name for the KIA records and a lethal specter that’s property of the British government, something that exists only to point and shoot when told.
💀toothaches from eden by congee4lunch
explicit | wip series, 14k | dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, tender sex, top ghost (dom soap)
ghost is in love with the violence of gunshots, the taste of iron in his mouth, and the cold press of a snake's tongue against his. soap is, simultaneously, none and all of the above. in one sleepless night, ghost learns to yearn for him too.
💀I Like You Alive by Anonymous
explicit | wip series, 12k | hurt/comfort, porn with plot, possessiveness, top ghost
They stare at each other for a moment, soft eyes and unspoken words weighing heavy between the two. They've not put a label on what this is, but as of right now, it suddenly feels like so much more than something casual.
💀Like Real People Do by ChaoticFayth
explicit | oneshot, 5k | hurt/comfort, mask kink, porn with feelings, top ghost
They stare at each other for a moment, soft eyes and unspoken words weighing heavy between the two. They've not put a label on what this is, but as of right now, it suddenly feels like so much more than something casual.
#soapghost#ghostsoap#simon ghost riley#ghoap#mw2#modern warfare 2#ghost mw2#mw2 ghost#fic recs#ao3 recs#slash recs#soap mactavish#macley#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#bbg ghost#babygirl ghost#ghostsoap fic authors i love and appreciate you#ghoap recs#ghostsoap fic recs
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Writing Patterns/First 10 Lines Tag Game
I was tagged by @hannahcbrown and I'm going to try tagging ten other people: @gwilin-stay-winnin , @druidx, @redadm1ral , @solnishka1927 , @thequeenofthewinter , @sylvienerevarine , @avantegarda , @genericswordsmaiden , @dirty-bosmer , @ryns-ramblings and if I didn't get you here consider yourself tagged!
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!
eye of a storm
“I want to discuss the weather outside and maybe thank you again for coming out here during a storm-- but all I can think of is other stuff I want to talk about.”
2. imperial healthcare
“Please Baurus, some more leaves. The lady’s mantle, if there’s any--”
3. well, well, well
Miraina had been staring at this peculiar structure since quite a bit of time after she and her gang had set up camp in the fort close by.
4. rime and reason
Celes had been chosen for her headstrong nature.
5. experience, the best teacher
She should not be thoroughly surprised that Corvus would freely speak of something outlandish to her.
6. daedalus
An odd inclination had afflicted Besrudio Bunansa as of late.
7. mother, mother
“It’s so crowded in here now…”
8. fealty
The dark knight swallowed his own fear even though it tasted parched and faintly of copper, bringing a gloved hand to the underside of the Emperor’s outstretched hand.
9. father, you believed
It was time to return home.
10. gladly beyond
Ruvelia’s eyes lingered on Orinas as the courier scooped him up.
So the main pattern I see is that I like to get straight into the action of the story-- just immediately right hook people with it. And not only that but showing off the state of the POV character in a succinct manner (usually) XD
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WIP Whenever!
Tagged by @thescrolls-haveforetold indirectly hehe and I decided to do this for my birthday today~
(Low Pressure) Tagging: @hannahcbrown , @gwilin-stay-winnin , @sylvienerevarine , @dirty-bosmer , @genericswordsmaiden , @redadm1ral , @solnishka1927 , and YOU dear reader!
Under the cut is something I wrote severely unseriously but might make into a full fic later... heheh
“I’m going to clear her home!”
Miraina’s voice was cheery and her smile serene even as she dropped her recently acquired copy of A Guide to Skingrad into the water. She and Guilbert watched the book fall with a dissatisfying plop spine up, its landing causing ripples on the reflecting pool in front of them and shaking the white lotus flowers that were floating on the water’s surface.
“Don’t do that.” Guilbert turned to frown at Miraina. His arms were crossed, almost defensively, as he gave her the sourest expression that he could manage without hostility. She wasn’t looking at him though—instead Miraina was reaching into her pack for something else. Another of Ottus’s books if Guilbert had to guess.
After a few minutes she procured what she was looking for; he was right.
“You’re already beginning to cause a public scene and defacing Imperial—Miraina!” Guilbert hissed through his teeth as Miraina dropped A Guide to Chorrol into the water next to the Skingrad edition.
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Witchblr Intro
Hello! I'm revamping my blog and changing things around, which means it's time for a new intro post.
General Info
Name: Haven Woodrose
Pronouns: they/she but with a heavy preference for they
I was born in 1997, which means I'm an adult. If you are a minor and interacting with adults makes you uncomfortable, that's completely fine! Please block me and move on with your life.
This is a secondary blog; my main blog is @solnishka1927 and my sewing-focused sideblog is @haven-needlecraft.
I also have a carrd that you can peruse.
Icon is from this picrew
Witchy Info
I label myself as a "scholar witch," which means I love learning and researching as much as I can about many different things! I also love cooking, baking, and gardening, although I don't have much space for growing things right now.
I love tarot and am getting into runic divination as well.
I am not Wiccan. I'm actually a Christian (liberal Quaker). However, my faith doesn't have a place in my witchcraft as of now, so I consider myself a secular witch. I never proselytize or evangelize; if you want to talk about religion with me, that's fine, but I don't claim to have all the answers.
Stuff I'm Proud Of
I made a tutorial for how to sew a drawstring bag!
I also make witchcraft-related zines. You can find the digital downloads on my ko-fi shop.
You can find my personal spellwork (which you are ofc free to use) tagged as #Haven's original spells
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Watered Elixir
Scribbled out a quick sickfic bc I’m sick (probably the coof, ugh) and I’m going lowkey nuts from it rn
Takes place in the Call of Honor universe, post-The Plagued Capital. Makarov and his newest lackey, Yelena (an OC from my beloved and lovely @solnishka1927) have fled Dunwall and are en route to Karnaca when plague breaks out on board their ship. Because Lady Luck has it out for him, Makarov falls ill himself.
For newcomers: COH is a crossover wherein Soap, Makarov, Yuri, and (perhaps :3) a few other COD characters are transported to the Dishonored universe after their canonical deaths. That’s all the background you really need for this fic; it’s just a oneshot (though I may incorporate this same plotline into the Maka-centric spinoff I’m planning in the future).
CW: Illness, mentions of death by illness, mentions of classism, Makarov being Makarov. Not beta’d, with minimal editing. About 1k words.
When Makarov wakes up one morning with shaking chills and white-hot pressure stabbing through his chest, the first thing he does is curse God for his misfortune.
The next is to thank him for the gift of foresight.
The rolling of the Serkonos-bound ship sends nausea spiking through his gut and up his throat, threatening to spill over into the ceramic pot clutched in his clammy hands. Yelena had been gracious enough to bring a clean one, though where she got it from, he couldn’t say. He hadn’t bothered to ask, in part because he didn’t want to know, though right now his primary concern is to stay alive and sane. The “staying alive” part of that objective seems to be going well so far; he’s managed to keep down at least half the food he eats so far, and the few vials of elixir they’d managed to smuggle aboard alleviates the worst of the symptoms. Hopefully it continues this way; to die a blood-weeping plague death in the dark, humid bowels of a 19th century emigrant ship would be a humiliating conclusion to this second chapter of life.
Makarov screws his eyes shut when the ship lurches and sends bile rushing up his throat. It’s close, but he chokes it down. His sweat-slick palms slip against the side of the pot, and he clutches it close like a lifeline. If this ships patient zero hadn’t died already, he’d track them down and crack their fucking skull open himself—
The creaking of the cabin door heralds Yelena’s return. Clean water sloshes in the thick glass jug she carries to the edge of the bed, where Makarov’s cup rests on the floor within his reach. He bites back an impatient quip as she kneels and fills his cup halfway with water, pausing only to better fit the scarf wrapped over her nose and mouth.
“Another one fell ill,” Yelena says, in Russian—or perhaps Tyvian, to be more precise. “A young lady in cabin class.”
Makarov says nothing. It had started in steerage; a teenage boy woke up one morning with shaking chills, and fever had claimed him three days later, long before the weeping could set in. They’d hoped his swift death put a premature end to the outbreak, but his sister and father fell ill the night after they’d slipped his scrawny gray body into the sea. The plague cut through steerage like a scythe through wheat, killing half of them while the crew struggled to contain the sickness. It spread to intermediate class not long after. Makarov’s certain he caught the plague from one of the maids; he’d only spoken to her for a minute, before she’d shown any symptoms, but a minute was all the disease needed to sink its claws into him. She’s dead now—not of plague, funnily enough, but because something in the elixir closed her throat. At least a brutal anaphylaxis death spared the miserable bitch the worst of the early stages of plague, the symptoms of which now torment Makarov.
Yelena pulls Makarov’s luggage from the compartment under the bunk bed and produces a vial of bright red elixir from its wrappings. He’s thankful he’d managed to convince her not to report their supply to the captain, as had been requested of them when they boarded; if they had, it would’ve been seized and rationed out to the rest of the crew and passengers like all the other elixir on board. Most of it is gone now, with the scarce remains given only to the afflicted with the best chances. Makarov’s supply is quite small—only five vials could fit in their luggage without risk of breakage or discovery—but hopefully it would be enough. It must be; he’s strong, fit, and had saved enough money to secure passage in intermediate class, but now that the plague’s spread to the important ones, the rich ones, they’ll be the ones prioritized in the rationing, age and strength be damned.
Yelena pours just enough elixir to fill the rest of the cup, then swiftly tucks it back into its hiding place. She swirls the cup once, twice, then sets it on the floor and slides it into Makarov’s reach. The hand he extends trembles, and the cup slips from his weak fingers when he attempts to lift it. The cup only drops an inch and lands upright, spilling no water, but the spike of fear it sends through him spurs a curse from his mouth.
Part of Makarov wants to bark at Yelena to go away. Not out of concern for her health (though she is sitting a bit too close to be safe), but because the open worry in her eyes makes him feel small. Helpless. He grits his teeth and grabs the cup again; this time he’s able to lift it, but the rim shakes against his lip and the watered elixir taunts him just beyond the reach of his tongue. The ship rocks, his joints scream in protest, and he can’t tip the cup further, for fear of wearing his drink instead of swallowing it.
Yelena scoots closer. The sharp look he shoots her doesn’t stop her from slipping her hand around the cup and angling it further for him; the watered elixir kisses his lips, and though the flavor is sharp and sour and wholly unpleasant, he drinks it down like the sweetest wine. Yelena lowers the cup to give Makarov a chance to breathe (or at least attempt to—one breath and he’s reduced to a coughing mess), then lets him drink the rest once he’s ready.
He closes his eyes when she lowers the cup for the final time, half-expecting to hear the trickle of water as Yelena pours him a pure serving—and flinches when the back of Yelena’s hand instead rests gently atop his sweat-beaded forehead.
“Your fever has gone up,” she says softly.
Makarov turns his head away.
“Don’t touch me.” His weak voice carries a dull edge.
“I’ll wet you a cloth,” she answers, as if Makarov had said something else entirely, or nothing at all. She steps away, and it’s a few minutes of rummaging and shuffling and soft muttering before Yelena returns and drapes a cool, damp cloth against Makarov’s forehead. The sensation rushes from his skull down to the tips of his toes, refreshing as a summer breeze, and it even alleviates some of the pounding pressure in his skull. A gentle hand brushes back his sweat-damp hair, an attempt to soothe him. It’s enough to unravel some of his tension, and as he sinks deeper into his pillows, he lips part as his face slackens. His hands come to rest at his sides, the ceramic pot now balanced freely in his lap.
“You should sleep,” Yelena murmurs.
Makarov tries another angle. “You shouldn’t touch me.”
“Maybe not,” says Yelena. But she lingers, her fingers still carding through his hair. It’s almost intimate, the way she touches him, like she knows he hasn’t been touched like this in years.
It has to work through a tight, aching chest and a ragged throat, but the sigh Makarov lets out is soft and deceptively smooth. He’d barely slept last night, and the combination of exhaustion and Yelena’s soothing touches tempts him into the embrace of sleep. He knows his current vulnerability will leave him mortified when (if) he wakes later, but damn it all, he can’t bring himself to care. Instead, he surrenders and allows himself the journey into gentle, temporary dark.
#vladimir makarov#yelena zyryanova#call of duty#dishonored#mw2#mw3#codmw#mwog#oneshot#fic#mywriting#au: call of honor
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🔥 fanfiction tropes
People forget that "trope" is just a repeating motif, so people that say "all tropes are bad" are essentially saying "all possible repeating motif across different media and genres are bad". I cannot convey how impossible it is to write a story without tropes.
Granted, there are some I absolutely despise, like the villainous aromantic asexual trope. There are also some I really enjoy, which you've probably seen if you know my AO3 account. If you don't, don't go looking.
Thanks for dropping by!
~Jasper
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best editing tip + share a 1-2 sentence preview from your WIP (if you're willing)
Oh best editing tip uhhhh. Personally something that helps me when I edit is to print my work, if I'm able. Then I can physically go over it with a pen and mark out any typos/mistakes, take notes, mark where edits need to be made, etc. I find it a lot easier to pay attention to details if I can take my printed draft in a room with softer lighting and take physical notes. Not really a technical tip, but a strategic one.
+
Okay so I don't have anything new I want to share from my draft of The Plagued Capital and I don't want to just reshare old shit. Instead I'll talk about some plot stuff.
I'm thinking about having Makarov be Marked by the Outsider. After doing a ton of weed and research I've decided that the Outsider, the way I want to write him, wouldn't be deterred by Makarov's complete amorality when deciding whether to offer the Mark to him. He cares about entertainment value, and Makarov's specific cocktail of circumstances is so fucked up and complex and could go off in so many different directions that the Outsider can't fucking help but offer Makarov the Mark. It would be hilarious. And this is also definitely one of the timelines where Soap and Yuri stop him from completely breaking the world, so it'll turn out fine. Hopefully. (The Outsider is never really sure which path someone might take until they cross that point of no return.)
This is not a decision I would've ever seen myself making but uh, honestly, I'm kind of like the Outsider when it comes to plotting these days. I wanna toss in a grenade and see what happens.
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if there are still any free devotional slots left, could you please do a devotional for either St. Guinefort OR Laika the space dog? (Your choice since St. Guinefort is Christian and I didn't want to potentially make you uncomfortable with that). Thank you so much!
Hiya, Solnishka!
For Laika the space dog? Can do!
You were the first of your kind,
Launched skyward to further science!
Ever dedicated to the cause
And forever by my side!
I thank you, Loyal Laika!
I hope you like it! Don't forget to leave feedback!
~Crimson
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since you're in the mood for asks... besides classics, what kinds of books does Makarov read? Also, what are his guilty pleasures? (like media that doesn't fit his aesthetic, unhealthy snacks, etc).
I can't really give as thorough answer as I want, so I apologize in advance. I only kinda touched on this in a previous answer, but I think in terms of broad genres, Makarov would be into historical fiction (across a smattering of time periods and locations: he favors Russian historical fiction from any period but he also likes, among other things, classical antiquity, 18th/19th/20th century Europe, and he's absolutely fascinated by the rise of civilization and ancient Mesopotamia both in and out of fiction).
He also loves horror, in particular gothic horror, psychological horror, and cosmic horror (if he cared about video games he'd probably love the fuck out of Amnesia, lmao), as well as mysteries and thrillers in general. He'll dip into stuff like fantasy and sci-fi, and the various subgenres they have to offer (he in particular likes dark fantasy and cyberpunk), but he's far more likely to engage with them if they also have some kind of element from one of his top favorite genres. He also reads, uh, a lot about war, and the human condition, and things along those lines. His library leans pretty morbid overall, but like, mostly serious and classy and pretentious about it, with the occasional smattering of "holy fucking shit what the FUCK is that book?"
As for guilty pleasures - 80s/90s pop music (with the rare touch of early 2000s). Russian is more nostalgic for him (he'd never admit that though, bc he has a stick up his ass), but he'll listen to it from any country, in any language. It's probably the one thing you could make fun of him for and he'll actually take it personal lmao. He will throw hands with the first person who tries it, though.
Also I feel like he wouldn't have a huge sweet tooth? Idk I feel like he's a delicate little flower when it comes to tastes (<- is a delicate little flower when it comes to tastes/textures also lmao) and sweets are just one of those things he can't handle all the time and in large quantities. But he does really like dark chocolate and he will enjoy a good pastry from time to time. Dark chocolate covered strawberries would be his favorite treat and one that he actively craves.
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Stolen from @jasper-the-menace
Rules: Answer the questions and tag!
Last song I listened to ➡️ "Poison" from Hazbin Hotel
Currently reading ➡️ Nothing, unfortunately. I really wish I could read a book though. I have so many on my TBR list.
Currently watching ➡️ House of the Dragon (I have a lot of opinions)
Currently obsessed with ➡️ Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss and Crocheting
Tagging: @solnishka1927 and anyone else who wants to do it!
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summer reading/writing/arting tag
Tagged by @hannahcbrown thank you! yippee!
1) Describe one creative WIP you plan on working on over the summer.
Ahhh, trying to narrow down to one work in progress is agonizing but luckily for me I technically don't have to do that! hehe.
My current work in progress, I would then say, are fics focusing on Oblivion (and maybe a few Skyrim!) NPCs that I like or found interesting (or both). The fics are probably not going to be 'connected' themselves but they're all a blast so I'm having fun! Currently picking at several, each involving a different character. Right now those poor souls would be the Jemane brothers, Volanaro (with a side of J'skar), Aurelinwae (with a side of Calindil), and Julienne Fanis (with a side of Raminus-- is this joke getting old yet?).
2) Recommend a book!
I haven't read an actual book in a while but I'm gonna go with something I read in my childhood-- The Goblin Wood, by Hilari Bell.
Makenna is, as far as protagonists go, vengeful. And from what I recall-- resourcefully clever right from the beginning. I remember delighting in watching how she'd go through the book's events; and it's not always that the protagonist captivates me so.
The books are now a trilogy from what I remember but I'd still recommend reading just the first book regardless. Not because I think the other two are bad but because I feel like the first stands on its own fine. (And if you like the first one then you can see about the other two yourself! Huzzah! ^u^)
3) Recommend a fic!
I wanna recommend Lost and Found, not only because it focuses on Falion as a character but because it features the father-daughter team of Falion and Agni becoming a team!
Who wouldn't love warm fuzzies like that? (Also it doesn't need massive amounts of Elder Scrolls lore knowledge but if you DO know what Falion studies or what he's talking about, it's even better for it.)
4) Recommend music!
House of Sacred Remains from Castlevania: Lament of Innocence. (The extended version because if you're like me 3 minutes isn't enough.)
Really though, a lot of the music from that game is stellar. I kind of miss playing Lament of Innocence to be honest. It's the only other Castlevania game I've played, besides Symphony of the Night.
5) Share one piece of advice!
Learn to love yourself. And I don't mean in a jokey or insincere/cold way-- I mean genuinely, with my whole heart and chest. Love yourself. I know sometimes it's hard to for a myriad of reasons, I do get it, but if you can manage to cultivate that inner appreciation for who you are without needing other people to prop you up... you can learn to let go of the past and look forward to who you will be in the future.
It was something I had to learn myself and the way I learned isn't going to be the way you learn, perhaps, but in an age where airbrushing and other celebrity-related media percolates culture I feel it's even more important to remind others that they're not just an empty sum of their faults and flaws.
People make mistakes and people change, that's just going to be people from here till the end of time. You're a person, you're going to make mistakes. And that's perfectly okay.
So please, love yourself.
TAGGING (not a must, do this if you want to!): @solnishka1927 , @redadm1ral , @dibellastan , @julskylyly , @genericswordsmaiden , and anyone else who wants to steal this from me! :D
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WIP WEEKEND!
another weekend, another work in progress! I love these tag games so much...
...though, does it count officially as a work in progress if what i'm about to post is just a fun little thing or two with dubious canon-icity to my series? I guess so! I'll post two since I have at least two recent tags from the charming @sylvienerevarine :3c
lo-pressure tags: @druidx, @gwilin-stay-winnin , @hannahcbrown , @solnishka1927 , @redadm1ral , @sylvienerevarine (evil, i know)
1st one!
To Guilbert's dismay, he could hear his companions already chewing on their food amid his audible prayer to the Nine.
"I find the cheese to be the best part of this dish." Even Reynald had already bitten into his meal it seemed, given he seemed to be talking around something in his mouth.
"....May we continue to serve faithfully so long as we live on Tamriel's graceful earth--" Guilbert looked up sternly at his twin.
Reynald had cheese stringing sumptuously from his mouth to the spoonful of mashed potatoes he was holding near his mouth. He swallowed once and smiled, clearly trying to maintain dignity in the face of the cheese breaking off and resting on his chin.
"...And may the Nine bless us for all of our days." He added, with much less of the reverence that Guilbert would have liked.
Somewhere to their left, one of the Rusonius siblings snorted in amusement--
Guilbert was left realizing that it was well within the realm of possibility that he was the only Nine-fearing mortal currently at this table.
2nd one!
Miraina was fretting with her wrist; rubbing her other hand over it and pulling at the skin there. If she was nervous, it couldn't be good.
Guilbert set what was in his arms down and approached her. "Miraina… what's bothering you? Can I help at all?" When Miraina startled at his approach, his eyes widened some. It must be quite the awful matter if she was acting scared…
"You can tell me." He offered softly. "I promise to--"
"Can you dance?" Miraina blurted.
"…I… can. Some?" In truth, Guilbert had no recollection of the last time he had danced-- much less with someone else. His life had been one act of service after the other. There was no time to dance.
"Can you teach me to dance?" Her voice became more clipped.
"I could…" Guilbert's eyes widened. "Oh who is it? Is it someone wealthy? This matters, Miraina, because the way people dance in castle walls is much different than the way they dance at tavern--"
Miraina looked as though she was about to collapse and when she spoke again it was quite the spectacle to hear the softest wisp of her voice instead of the usual confidence. "Can-- can you be my partner for this idiot party I got invited to?"
Guilbert appraised Miraina with a gentleness he did not normally afford her; her leaden expression in particular. She was trembling lightly to her boots.
And despite it all, Guilbert felt a grin rising to his face. He could curse himself for it later. "Miraina… you're not nervous about a dinner party are you?"
"Don't laugh!" She cried, life suddenly returning to her. "I don't want to dance with these cloddish feet."
Guilbert laughed more, bubbling and light. "And you don't think mine aren't?"
Miraina blinked as though she hadn't considered this a possibility; but Guilbert was relieved she seemed less terrified at least. "Oh. We're going to make complete fools of ourselves then. Oh well…"
#squeed speaks#inkywrites#elder scrolls#oc: miraina#guilbert jemane#reynald jemane#the first bit is nebulous#you could imagine it at any point in their journeys#the second bit however#is definitely post-main quest#when the title of CHAMPION OF CYRODIIL is foisted onto the player character#miraina's not taking it too well but it's okay. she has friends! :)
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