#Greycloak army

[judgetoast-blog]

Black Emperor Campaign Diary vol 10 & 11

Session 10:

The party had fully united at the druid grove, taking time to rest and recover themselves after a long and difficult trip. They finally came to understand the cryptic message about the gibberling horn, they blow the horn three times which finally kills all of the gibberling still in the forest and surrounding areas.

The party is told by Greycloak, the head of the druid order, that someone is here to speak with them. They are lead to a pond and find that inside the pond is a reflection calling itself the architect tells them he’s been watching their progress and offers them a portion of his power if they are willing to take the mirror shard that Deathrattle draws his power from. Homlet the ooze and Colossal the goblin both agree. Colossal takes The Architect as her patron and Homlet agrees to become an agent of The Architect, stating his patron is the Primordial Ooze.

Seeing additional allies the party travels to the village of Lenovo and meets another adventuring party who overthrew their mayor quietly. The troup here consists of: J the human warrior, bottle the ooze, Yay Yip the kobold, Casa & Pollux twin furies, Avery a human thief, and Gloryhammer the minotaur. The party of Lenovo welcomes the party of Homlet. Our intrepid heroes look for an ooze in the area, hoping for Homlet himself to make peaceful contact with an ooze. They encounter a strange construct underground, it seems like some kind of builder, they learn that this is a broken construct that is here to build dungeons under the world. 

Colossal, Homlet and Atreyu find a shine seeker in the wilderness and follow it back to a shine hoarder. Homlet attempts to make peaceful contact with it and is absorbed into it. After some fear and almost losing Homlet inside the shine hoarder Homlet comes out changed. He has some of the traits of the shine seekers now.

Session 11:

The party gathers again at the druid’s circle, reporting that the adventurers from Lenovo can be counted on when the conflict comes. While this report is made Colossal decided she is going to take a perfect diamond worth four hundred gold and introduce it to her ooze, seeing if this will create a unique gemheart ooze. It does and the ooze it creates as a result is aligned to Law, unable to reach into the chaos of magic and draw out any spell, instead giving this ooze a fixed list of spells. This ooze calls itself “Jar”.

Before leaving again for another nearby village the party of Lugh to arrive in the circle. When he arrives and gives his scouting reports the party sends Sunai the human jockey, Determined the goblin, and Homlet to the village of inwun to try and find more rebels.

In Inwun they meet with a small party including a Fury known as Pluto. Pluto tells the party that there is a whistle that can animate scarecrows on the plateau nearby, if they get this whistle for him then he will use it to create an army for them. Following the lead, they head into the plateau and find a lonely farmstead. They are attacked by a number of scarecrows. They overcome the scarecrows after a few close calls and ultimately locate the whistle, stopping the remaining ones from attacking. As they flee the farmstead they are greeted by an army of crows. A large one in a crown asks for the whistle, advising that it’s power should not be in the hands of mortals. The party decides to hand over the whistle, deciding that they don’t trust pluto with this power. Their reward is a powerful magical shovel known as “The Dirt Devil”.

[thedarklordmegatron]

Prompto as Cor's biological kid for the 5AU meme

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

Cor doesn’t even remember who the mother of his adorable three week old son was, he can barely remember what he ate for breakfast let alone who he slept with ten months ago. What he does know is that she must have been very beautiful to create the angelic three week old infant the social worker presented to him. He also knows that he would give his life in a heartbeat to protect his son.

With the help of Regis, Aulea and Clarus, Cor moves from his tiny shack of an apartment into something more suitable for a single father, which also just so happened to be closer to the Citadel. Regis handles the paperwork and convinces the social workers that Cor is more than capable of caring for his son, and that he, Aulea and Clarus will support him until he’s able to cope on his own. 

The first week was nowhere near as hard as Cor expects it to be. Prompto, bless his little heart, is the perfect child. He rarely cries, only doing so when he’s hungry or has soiled his nappy. It does worry him, but his friends reassure him that if Prompto needs him he will make it very obvious.

Introducing Prompto to his colleagues is an experience. All his son has to do is smile and/or giggle and his target is sold. Cor can’t help but laugh when after refusing multiple times, Titus witnesses one of Prompto’s giggling fits and promptly accepts the infant from Cor’s outstretched arms.

The day Prompto takes his first steps, Cor’s sitting on the floor of his office, going through piles of paperwork he’s been neglecting. He was signing off a request for new training swords when Prompto toddled over, tripping over his own feet and landing on the papers giggling all the while. Cor stared dumbfounded for a moment, mouth agape as he watched his son laugh and wave his arms around, before laughing and swinging Prompto up into his arms. He proceeded to run down to Regis’ office, set his son on his feet and grin proudly as Prompto toddled over to the King, babbling away to himself. ‘I told you Prom would walk before Noctis.’ 

[the-great-elwisty]

Day 10: Fish out of Water

A/N Set not long prior to the NWN2 Original Campaign.

Nevalle dreams of schoolrooms, ink and heaps of fresh parchment. There will be bundles of goose feathers and reeds already prepared for use, though only for the older children and the best scholars, of course: most will have to make do with chalk and slate tablets, or styluses and wax. There will be abaci. A map of Faerun on the wall. Books of reference. Even if the teacher is a drunken lout and a fool, as one of his certainly was, the children will be able to learn despite the limitations of their background. Though he will personally monitor the selection of the teachers to make sure that no time-wasters or boozers slip in.

He dreams sitting at his desk, a list of the most recent commodity prices before him, and annotates, rounds and estimates. He estimates to two decimal points, as an expert clerk should.

In total, it will cost ten point six ounces of fine gold to stock a school of fifty children for one month, inclusive of a simple breakfast of oatmeal and milk, and excluding the teacher’s salary. He knows that in theory ­– if he compromised on the quality of the teacher, if he forgot about any but the most basic resources and left seeing the children fed to the purses and tempers of their parents – one school could run for a month on fewer than ten ounces.

But that would be like the miller he had seen on trial the other day, fined for mixing sawdust in with the flour, or like the case of the Greycloak sergeant Griffon who had contrived to sell his troop’s weapons on the black market and buy in cheap replacements for half the amount, just in time for the Luskan army to arrive at the walls: an abasement of standards that devours the greater purpose. The worst kind of compromise.

“Attend. Are you ready for your lesson?” The bland voice of the knight Melia echoes through the wooden door of his bedroom-cum-study.

He stands smoothly and carefully, as he has learned to do. As a new recruit to the palace guard, he would have hurried to open the door to his superior in rank and length of service. He had been trained out of that quickly.

“I am. Who may I expect?”

“Open and see,” she says. Sometimes she gave him a straight answer The second or third lesson, she had replied “the unexpected!” but since then she had stopped making light remarks in her own person. She understood that he would not appreciate them. Today she is testing him, as is fair, and is furthermore a much more effective way of learning than shadowing Sir Darmon on his spinning, springing, laughing progress through the court.

Melia stands approximately three feet away from the threshold of his room. Her dark hair is worn up in a nest of complex plaits, though a few strands have been allowed to curl at the side of her cheeks, as if through chance. It was a statement: long loose hair in a woman signalled remembrance of Aribeth and suspect loyalty. Hair in a single plait down the back, or curled into a bun, was to be seen throughout the Blacklake District these days, and meant faith in Lord Nasher, or at least the wish to appear true to him. What Melia wears today is referencing either the old regime, the Amnish, or Waterdeep where such styles persist.

The cut of the dress is simple, loosely belted at the waist and unpadded at the breast and hips, the colour black, as would be appropriate for mourning, or for a priest doing penance, or for a member of one of the more unpleasant cults of the Sword Coast. Despite the dress’s simplicity, the material looks to him like velvet. There are discreet froths of ivory Moonshae lace at each wrist.

He has already seen the pin worn on the left to show a connection to the heart, and it makes the test far too easy. The blue-and-white bud of gemstones that might be taken for an Eye of Tyr, would have been taken for such by him a short time ago, but in fact stood for the delphinium crest of one of the old houses, one with few living representatives, and no children.

“Lady Tamberlis, you do me great honour.” Because this is not really Lady Tamberlis, it is not hard to filter any wisp of displeasure out of his tone. He hopes he can do as well if confronted with the real woman.

Melia raises her chin. Looks at him askance from under silvered eyelids. “Honour is all very well, young man, but only if actions match words. The door to the audience chamber is behind you. You and your honour are in my way.”

So that is his task in today’s play: to learn what the aristocrat wants from Lord Nasher, and then to let her through or find a means of turning her about, as the case demands. You may hate it and them, Melia had said in an earlier trial, and may look at them and see nothing but painted toy dragons, but they still have connections, and status, and wealth. Treat them as if their teeth can still bite.

“My apologies, milady,” he says with a small bow towards her, but does not otherwise change his position. “I must beg your patience a little longer.”

Although she is much shorter than he, Melia contrives not to seem so. A twist of a lip, a flicker of an eyebrow, and she disappears into her projection of the tall, sharp-featured Tamberlis, an improbable apparition to encounter in this obscure back corridor of Castle Never. “Beg, by all means. I expect I will enjoy it. But as for patience, I have none, and rate it as no great virtue.”

He does not attempt to counter her ‘humour’ with a jab of his own. That is not how he works best, and he knows it. “Then let it be such, and we shall come straight to the matter at hand. You must be driven by some urgent business to travel here in person at this hour.”

It is within the usual audience times, but still well before noon, and few people of rank in Neverwinter stir themselves to activity before then. Lord Nasher is in the habit of rising before dawn and going straight to work; when Nevalle attended him at breakfast a ten-day ago, the city’s Protector had said to him confidingly that if his courtiers could only manage to get out of bed at a reasonable time, they would have succeeded in deposing him years ago. Nevalle was very glad that they had not, and said as much.

“Perhaps it is so. And if that is the case, would I be liable to share my business with Nasher’s door boy, and not Nasher himself?”

Melia has captured the mixture of condescension and arrogance perfectly. He suspects she is enjoying herself.

Even though he knows this is not real, his temper sparks. “Since you have no other means of gaining your audience, certainly.”

Without changing her expression, she adjusts her stole so that it hangs from one shoulder. “And go prattling the secret knowledge of state to a guard? To the son of an excise clerk? You see, I take an interest in palace affairs, young Nevalle.”

“My father is a loyal servant of Lord Nasher, as am I.”

“For clerks, loyalty is done and undone in the slash of a pen. They can have no real concept of higher loyalty, the loyalty of sworn soldiers, knights and princes. For your kind it begins and ends with a monthly pay-packet, loyalty till sunset on working days then home to supper in a house on the peninsula.”

He feels his cheeks flush with anger, and regrets the light complexion that gives him away so easily. Tamberlis – no, Melia playing Tamberlis – lets a hint of amusement show, but, seeing it, he collects himself. Yes, his father is an exciseman, and he is proud of him. It is people like his father, literate, sober and honourable, who have kept Neverwinter alive and ensured the state could fend off the attacks from Luskan and the orcs. When Tamberlis and her circle of spoiled bullies were in charge, the city went bankrupt and the Greycloaks mutinied. Lord Nasher remembers that, owes his throne to the long-ago turmoil in the Year of the Bloodbird, and has given many indications that he feels as Nevalle does on the issue of which class of person has more to offer the future.

“I would die for Lord Nasher,” he replies calmly. “I have sworn to do so as a guard, but even if I were not bound by an oath, he is my master and I owe him my life as part of my duty to the state.”

Melia raises her eyebrows. “How novel. Do you really mean that?”

“Every word.”

The disguised knight pauses, watching his face as if she can search out the truth of his pledge there. At last, she says, “I suppose you’ll do.”

And she pulls off her stole and stuffs it under one arm. A few plucks of the fingers to draw out concealed pins, and with a shake of the head her plaits fall free to rest on her shoulders. Her posture subtly shifts, not relaxing or becoming more official, but seeming to pass through a mirror, so that, where Tamberlis had stood there was now an oval-faced young knight wearing a black dress that sits ill with her complexion.

“Here’s the news then,” continues Melia. “Lord Nasher will leave a few days from now on a progress round his territories. From Fort Locke in the south to Old Owl Well and Helm’s Hold and up to Port Llast on the border. And every village and town of any size in between. We expect trouble: the land has been unsettled ever since the war. You will lead his personal guard, while Sir Darmon commands a troop of Greycloaks detached from Callum’s mountain men.”

When he nearly lost his temper, he thought he had failed the test that day. Now it seems that his mistake did not matter: the responsibility Melia has given him is a great one, and an unmistakeable sign of favour for she would not have done so without Lord Nasher’s blessing. The possibilities, the probabilities that lie before him are ones he would not have dared imagine for himself a year ago. The only blight on them will be sharing the road with Sir Darmon and his clowning and jokes and triviality for the next month or more.

“Thank you,” he says. “I will not disappoint him.”

She cocks her head on one side. “You don’t seem surprised.”

He blinks. The sudden switch from apparent failure to reward and success, from being insulted by an imitation of an old, ugly witch to being given a promotion in fact if not in name yet, had surprised him. But he is not shocked by the task itself. “I am well-qualified for the task. It requires someone who is well-organised, knows the roads, knows the guard, and who can fight. I match the description.”

She gives him an odd unaccountable smile that he has only seen her wear a few times before, when she listens in on council meetings from discreet corners of the chamber. “Yes, well I’m sure that all helps too.”

After she has left, he returns to his room and spends the next hour noting the tasks that will need to be completed, and the equipment that will have to be gathered, inspected and packed before the expedition can depart. Then he has to leave for his guarding shift between noon and sunset, and afterwards he is invited to share the dining table that evening with Lord Nasher, a few of the Nine and the usual tideline-mess of courtiers, merchants and aristocrats. In the short time he has left before bed, he hurries through more of the preparations, visiting the kitchens and armoury and consulting with the old retainers who have been working in supplies and logistics since before Nevalle was born.

It is midnight before he is able to lie down again. The reed lamp on the table continues to smoulder, giving off an uncertain light. Now and again footsteps pass in the corridor outside his room. And as he lies awake, exhausted by his long day yet still burning with satisfaction at his new status, his new advancement, he lets his eyes wander over the ceiling, and he dreams.

A network of schools over the city is feasible. He knows it. And one day, when he has proved his competence so many times that no one can doubt him, he can show his plan to Lord Nasher, and they will build them together. Just one at first, as a trial model. But once that is refined, the same pattern can be replicated in every district of the lower and middle-ranking citizens.

Nevalle’s dreams are weighted with figures and lists. In his imaginary schoolroom, the children sit in neat lines and wear clean, if darned and patched, clothes – though that has not been included in the budget. Clothes will have to wait for a third, unplanned stage to be realised. None of the children have faces and – as he finally drifts off to sleep – they look up at him standing at the teacher’s lectern, and their heads are simply outlines framed by the plain limewashed walls. But they will be the future. The school will happen, and Neverwinter will thrive.

[legolas-little-leaf]

The Fall of Gondolin (pt1)

“But Tuor looked upon the walls of stone, and the uplifted towers, upon the glistening pinnacles of the town, and he looked upon the stairs of stone and marble, bordered by slender balustrades and cooled by the leap of threadlike waterfalls seeking the plain from the Fountains of Amon Gwareth, and he fared as one in some dream of the Gods, for he deemed not such things were seen by men in the visions of their sleep, so great was his amaze at the glory of Gondolin.” (Book of Lost Tales, Volume 2 page 159)

The Fall of Gondolin (Chapter 2 in Epic sl- 'What if') Idly Legolas made his way from the Festival. Tarin Austa, the Gates of Summer celebrations were coming to a close. Long had been the laughter, the merrymaking and dancing and now a time of reflection was upon one and all. A time of silence, in the lead up to dawn; a time where no one would speak from Midnight to daybreak, but as the first rays of dawn broke the night sky, one and all would gather upon the eastern wall, to burst forth in ancient songs; giving thanks for the year that had passed and the new one coming.

In silence he passed others, watching as they hung the silver lamps and jewels of many colours from the low laying eaves of trees, entwining their fine delicate thread carefully through the branches; as not to mar a single newly formed leaf. It made him smile. For Gondolin was fairer than any other town or city one could ever imagine, and yet with the approaching dawn; as the first ray of light crossed over the snow-peaked caps of the Encircling Mountains, it would take even the coldest of hearts breath away. Such was its divine beauty and grace. Many a heartless Dignitary or even the most seasoned Warriors had stumbled to kneel, weeping freely at its indescribable beauty, and he was no different.

Legolas’s footfalls made no sound as he took the steps in twos making his way up, and onto the eastern wall. The night sky still lay shrouded in a velvet blanket of the darkest blue, laced together with a million stars that reflect the true beauty of Varda.

He was alone, alone for now with his thoughts and melody of the softly trickling waterfalls. Closing his eyes, he let the peace of his surrounding flow through him.  He had missed this! Missed Gondolin more than he had thought ever possible! Having been sent here upon the cusp of his adulthood to train; glean knowledge in battle and strategies’ befitting for his title and linage by his Ada Thranduil, and G dad Oropher. For they were Sindarin royalty whom then, had resided with Thingol Greycloak; the Elven King of Doriath within his underground city, Menegroth, the city of a thousand caves.

None of that mattered now. Time had moved on and so had his Family. Establishing a safe hold, their own underground city within the north-eastern end of the Forrest of Mirkwood, where they ruled over the Wood Elves, the Silvan Elves of Telerin descent…

He wasn’t sure how long he has closed his eyes, for a time had no real consequence. A hundred years could pass and be, but a moment to pause and reflect for his kin. It was a bittersweet luxury he had never taken any joy in. For short and beautifully sweet were the lives of his mortal friends and though like leaves, some danced a little longer upon the cold Autumn breeze, they all eventually came to pass; falling gently upon the Forrest floor.

He was no longer alone. Others had gathered. Their gaze cast silently out across the eastern Mountains watching the breaking of a strange red hue that tipped the Mountain peaks crimson like blood. Swiftly it seemed to gather within the far off crevices pooling to spill over and trickle its way down across the craggy Mountainside’s.  And as he stepped forward to lean upon the smooth warm balustrade, he heard it. The soft and distant throws of drums…Unmistakeable upon their intent.

Unforgiving in their rhythm, they were the drums of an army. The drums of war! Legolas’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward over the balustrade with the soft mumbles of worded curiosity resonating within his ears from those beside him. And as the glow grew greater still; their doubt turned to dread and panic for the night sky turned red with the approaching fire serpents of Melko’s design.

Swiftly Legolas pushed himself back from the balustrade and turned on heel calling forth” Sound the alarms!  Alert every House! War has come to Gondolin, Melko is upon us!!” Already the mountainsides were cloaked with the plain riders, Goblins and Orc’s upon the foulest of Warg’s, Creatures half-bat, half-man ran or flew beside them and then... breaching the Mountain peaks charged the Trolls and the Balrogs with wings of flame and smoke! And at that moment, Legolas despaired!

How many lives would be lost this day? How many families forever broken. How could they even hope to win against such a force? Yet try they must! For no known allies were riding to Gondolin’s aid, and if they were, unless they were already close by, they would never reach the city on time.

Purposely Legolas breathed in deep, sweeping his despair aside to focus on the fate ahead. Exhaling as he stepped forward, pushing down upon the ball of his right foot to leap nimbly up and onto the fine marble balustrade; as with a shrug, his bow travelled the length of his arm to rest within the grasp of his left hand.

 Fluently he raised his right hand across his shoulder while he adjusted his stance: pulling forth an arrow from his quiver and set it to the bow's string and raised his bow. Pulling taunt its string, to rest momentarily beside his right cheek while his sharp elven sights took aim. Trailing his target across the sky he let his arrow fly.   He did not wait to see if it had hit its mark, the screech of the whelp fire serpent plummeting towards the ground was confirmation enough!  Instead, Legolas turned, darting nimbly forward along the thin balustrade with his cloak flaying out around him; to search for higher perch upon which he could secure another target…

[thedarklordmegatron]

Ardyn begging gilgamesh not to die for him is A+++

I wrote a mini-thing for the ultimate angst :D! 

“For the love of the Six Gilgamesh, deny me!” Ardyn begged, throwing an arm through the bars of his cell and clawing at the harsh stone below, ignoring the chain digging into his neck and restricting his breathing. “Please Gilgamesh, do not die for me!” He sobbed as he desperately tried to reach the cell beside his own, having witnessed the guards throw the much larger man in there only moments earlier. The same guards whom were currently laughing at his predicament from their positions by the door. “Swear your fealty to Somnus,” He pleaded “All you need do is deny me, tell them you have seen my corruption and acknowledge him as your King! He will let you live! I know it!”

“A world without you is not a world I wish to live in.” Was the soft-spoken reply as an oh so familiar hand reached out to clasp his, threading their fingers together. Bowing his head Ardyn allowed his forehead to hit the cold stone of his cell, closing his eyes as he allowed the tears to fall freely.

“You fool” He wept brokenly, clinging onto the hand in his as though it would disappear at any given moment. “Please, do not die for me. I am not worth it.”

“I am not dying for you,” Gilgamesh responded sullenly, voice thick with his own unshed tears “I am dying with you.”

“Please-“

“Ardyn.” His mouth snapped shut at the unspoken command. “The day you saved me from an illness I swore my life to yours, to act as your Shield and protect you from the harshness of this world. The night we first laid together I gave my heart to you with the promise of always standing by your side. In sickness and in health, through victories and losses. In life and in death.” The hand around his squeezed once, a comforting gesture he had long since become used to. “You are my world.” Gilgamesh said softly “My very reason for living. Without you…without you I have nothing. Do not ask me to swear my life to him, do not ask me to live in a world without love.”

“I do not want to watch you die.” Ardyn whispered through his tears, though he was quite certain Gilgamesh could hear him, even over the taunting of the guards.

“Then close your eyes and think of our nights together. The traitor may take my life and the Astrals curse my soul, but my love for you is eternal. My heart beats for you and you alone Ardyn, that will never change.” With little care for the dignity or pride he had once held, Ardyn made a soft keening noise, tugging on Gilgamesh’s hand in a pointless attempt at pulling it closer; likely only succeeding in hurting the other man. “No matter what awaits us, I love you and have no regrets.”

[thedarklordmegatron]

Can i ask about the homeless noct au? Where are iggy and gladio in the story? And what's regis doing?

Of course you can ask about the homeless Noct AU! We’re going to ignore the Brotherhood canon about Iggy and Gladio because I refuse to believe that these two weren’t childhood friends as well.

Okay so as I mentioned in my first post relating to this Noct doesn’t remember his life before the streets, so there’s two ways I can imagine him getting there. 

1. Ardyn takes the seven year old little boy from the Citadel, wipes his memory with some magic thing because let’s be real we don’t know what he can do, and proceeds to leave said child on the streets of Insomnia. 

2. He ends up on the streets in a kidnapping attempt gone wrong. A few turncoat Glaives and/or Crownsguards steal the Prince out from under his father’s nose, and in their attempt to remove him from the city something happens which leaves Noctis wandering Insomnia with severe amnesia. (I have no clue how amnesia works btw, but let’s roll with it.) 

In either situation Regis is going to be utterly distraught because his son, his precious little baby boy has gone missing. Six help those responsible because when he finds out who did this, who’s stolen his child, Regis is going to end them in a slow and extremely painful manner. His first reaction is to send out every Glaive and Guard, locking down the city and ensuring that no one can sneak his son out of Insomnia. Unfortunately no one had considered that their Prince might end up in a homeless camp in the rougher areas of the city, being looked after and cared for by those already living there. 

Obviously Regis is utterly heartbroken when after a year he is forced to call the search off, and he becomes more of a recluse than he had been in the previous months, which is saying something. He cannot bring himself to look at Gladiolus and Ignis, his son’s best friends and future retainers, not that he has anything against the boys - quite the opposite, he loves them both as though they were his own but they remind him of the child he no longer has. Clarus and Cor become the only two people he will talk with outside of Council meetings; the pair desperate to bring their King out of his head before he does something drastic.

As for Ignis and Gladiolus, both are still within the Citadel, continuing to train for the positions they had been raised for. That being said, the first few months after Noct vanishes the pair spend every waking moment with one another, refusing to be separated in case something happens to one of them. They had tried to convince Clarus that they should be allowed to search for Noct but had backed down when Regis collapsed in front of them both, placed his hands on their shoulders and literally begged them to stay in the Citadel, that he couldn’t bear losing them as well.

It breaks the adult’s hearts when the duo curl up on Noctis’ bed, the little Carbuncle figurine laying between them as they wait for their ‘little brother’ to come home. Whenever they’re not in school or training, they can be found in the Prince’s room, reading books or sitting on his window-ledge looking out over the city. It’s only after Noctis’ ninth birthday that they stop, finally realising that he won’t be coming home anytime soon. They do still leave birthday and Shiva’s day cards on his bed very year in the hopes that when he does eventually come back, he’ll know just how much they missed him.

As the years go on the pair continue to train, becoming the best retainers they could possibly be. However, they do sneak around behind the King’s back looking for Noctis whenever they get a free moment, searching the parts of the city the Glaives and Guard haven’t checked out in a while. In fact, it’s eventually Gladio who comes across a 16 year old boy, surrounded by cats in an old drainage pipe that looks eerily familiar. 

Tagging: @kairiratten (Because you wanted to be tagged in future posts about this AU ^_^)

[thedarklordmegatron]

were than any instances where noct fought with one of his street fam? what about the transition to the castle, does he bring them as well?

There have been several instances where Noctis has fought with his street family. To begin with, he was very nervous about being around them all, which is fair, he was only a little boy after all. A little boy with no memories at that. One of the first fights he had was with one of the older men. 

Old George, originally from Hammerhead, had only been trying to look out for him; telling him where he shouldn’t go and what time he should be back in camp by. Noct, being both nervous and terrified screamed ‘You’re not my father’ before running off and spending the night behind a dustbin. His street fam spent the entire night looking for him, all of them concerned as he was the youngest member of their little family. When they did eventually find him, Noct was more than happy to throw himself at them and be taken back to the camp.

It wasn’t the last time he fought with the others, but the fights were never anything overly serious. They were all well aware that they needed one another to survive, fighting would only get them killed quicker. 

When he does eventually go back to the Citadel, one of the first things he does is tell his father about his little family and beg for him to help them. Regis is more than grateful to those people if it wasn’t for them his son would likely have died within weeks. He asks for a private audience with all of them and quite literally drops to his knees to thank them, he even cries when they tell him some stories about little Noct. It breaks his heart to think that he wasn’t there when his son needed him the most. 

To thank them for everything they did he offers them anything. Food, new clothes, a bed, a home, and all of them bar Old George take the offer of a roof over their heads; especially when Regis promises that they’ll never have to pay a penny towards it. When Regis asks Old George why he wouldn’t accept his offer, he simply says ‘That camp is my home’. He does insist on giving the man new clothes, a credit card to ensure he can buy whatever he needs to survive, and promises that if he ever needs anything, all he has to do is come to the gates and ask for the King. 

Noctis makes a point of visiting Old George at least once a week, keeping him updated on what was going on in his life and showing him pictures of the cats in their new home.

[thedarklordmegatron]

ok but what scared noct and made him run to prom in the homeless au?

It’s nothing really malicious! Well…depends on your point of view anyway haha.

So Noct was casually strolling through one of the backstreets with his fur-babies, minding his own business, when a black van blocks the end of the road. He’s immediately on edge because he’s come to learn that there are people out there who’ll happily pray on a homeless person. 

The guy that gets out of the car is huge. Like huge. And he has a scar over his left eye. His appearance combined with the seriously sketchy van is more than enough to convince Noct that nu-uh, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near here at the moment. The guy takes a step forward and says ‘”Noct?” which again, kinda dodgy. Why does this guy know his name? And why are there four more people in Glaive uniforms of all things behind him? 

Fuck. That. He nopes out of there quicker than the Glaives can react, bolting back the way he came, cats on his heels. He doesn’t know who those people are or how they know his name, but he’s been beaten one time too many to trust anyone taller or more intimidating than him. The guy shouts his name, then there’s the sound of running but he’s faster, smaller and knows his way around the streets better than any of them. 

Going back to the camp is not an option. They’ll probably end up there at some point, and he’s not prepared to put everyone else at risk. He’s close enough to Prompto’s place that he can hide out there if he can lose the Glaives and the big guy. They’d never think of checking the Immigrant district, especially not Prompto’s building. He uses the storm drains as a way of navigating around without drawing any more attention to himself, amused that his cats are still following him. It takes him a couple of hours, and way too many dives into the sewers before he finally gets to Prompto’s. Instead of knocking he just runs through the door, waiting for the cats to come in, and making a mental note to tell Prompto off for not locking his front door. 

Maybe he overreacted earlier. Maybe the big guy wasn’t going to hurt him, but he’s learnt that just because someone’s in a uniform, doesn’t mean they’re your friend. He’s safe in Prompto’s apartment, he just hopes he did enough to avoid the Glaives without making Prom a target. 

[thedarklordmegatron]

what halloween costumes do you think each of the boys would wear?? Oh! what would cor wear? or titus? regis?

Oooh, now this is fun to think about!

Noctis: He spent weeks begging Ignis to make him his costume but eventually the man gave in. Of course he does he research and he spends hours bouncing around the apartment watching Ignis work, and the second that assassin costume is done he insists on wearing it as much as possible. 

Prompto: His initial plan was to go as a Chocobo but then he realised how much a costume like that was going to cost, and he wasn’t exactly going to let Noctis pay for it despite him insisting on it. So he goes with plan B, a zombie! He’s saved up for some special FX make-up and puts it to good use - though he does tone down his plans because there’s going to be kids around.

Gladiolus: He’s either going as a werewolf or a succubus. Either way he’s going shirtless and is going to wear the tightest pants, because it’s the one day of the year his dad can’t complain about his lack of clothing!

Ignis: Iggy goes all out on a costume. He checked in with His Majesty and the Marshal to ensure there would be no costume clashes, and refused to do anything simple. With a little help in sourcing the materials from Gladio, Ignis shows up at Noctis’ apartment dressed as Ifrit, though he did add a shirt because he’s not as happy about being half-naked like Gladio.

Cor: He hates Halloween and would much rather have spent his evening curled up on the couch with a beer, alas Regis is a cruel man and orders him to take part in the celebrations. He wasn’t planning on dressing up but then Clarus shows up at his door with a Yojimbo costume. If nothing else it’s easy enough to carry Kotetsu with him when everyone else thinks it’s part of the costume.

Titus: Briefly considered showing up dressed as the Niff Chancellor if only to send a picture back to annoy the man, but realises what poor taste that would have been. Instead he rocks up in an old Glaive uniform, covered in blood and with fake guts hanging out of him. There’s a brief moment when some of the Glaives are actually concerned that the guts are real, but then Cor yanks on part of the intestines and slaps him with it. 

Regis: (This one’s inspired by @estusknight‘s designs! Go check em out!!!) It’s a tad cheesy but he’s always loved vampires! So considering he’s the King, and can literally employ some of the best tailors to make him something fancy, he indulges and goes for it. He gets himself a custom pair of fangs and declares himself the fanciest vampire alive, heh. He is so disappointed when Clarus shows up in a bed-sheet and declares himself a ghost. How dare you shame him like this Clarus, rude much; but he does make a cute ghost so maybe Regis can forgive him just this once.

[thedarklordmegatron]

Hi! Can I ask for the homeless!Noctis au? I wanna know about Prompto's rol in the story.

Ooh, okay so I imagine that Prom’s early life would be pretty much the same to begin with except for Noctis not being in his class, for obvious reasons. 

He decides to lose weight after meeting some of the Glaives assigned to finding their missing Prince. At the time he’s sitting in Insomnia Central Park, wrapped up in blankets under one of the streetlights, taking photos of all the nightlife, when one of the Glaives literally falls over him. The oldest Glaive, Drautos or something, escorts him home leaving the others to continue the search, and after they leave Prompto is determined to be like them. 

Prompto’s sixteen and running through one of the slightly more dangerous districts of Insomnia, when he falls and sprains his ankle, sliding down into one of the open storm drains. For a few moments he lays on his back, letting the pretty disgusting water soak him, staring up at the buildings and cursing his luck; before trying to drag himself out. It takes three attempts and a ridiculous amount of cursing before someone comes across him. That someone just so happens to be a dark haired boy, probably the same age as him, who looks like he’s seen better days. 

They get chatting and Prompto learns that his name’s Noct and that he lives not far from where he fell. He’s not sure why, but once his leg’s recovered enough, he makes a point of running past that same place in the hopes of seeing Noct again. They do eventually bump into one another, quite literally, when Noct comes scrambling out of a pipe, grabs him by the hand and drags him into an alley. They hide there for several minutes as loud voices rush by before Noct releases him and apologises.

“Dude no worries. You okay though?”

“Yeah, just pissed off the wrong people.” And thus a friendship is born. It’s the first time in a long time that someone outside of his adopted ‘family’ has cared enough to sit down and just talk to him, looking past his dirty gaunt exterior.

Prompto starts bringing dinner, it’s not like anyone’s at home waiting for him. When it’s dry they sit on one of the trashcans, wrapped in blankets and eating whatever food Prom’s brought with him. When it’s raining, they sit in one of the pipes, laughing and chatting despite the less than pleasant surroundings. 

Prompto doesn’t have much to his name, a crappy apartment that his parents pay for - mostly to keep social services off their backs, his second-hand camera and some clothes that desperately need replacing, but he still has it better than Noct. Which is why he’s more than happy to share what little he has, be it spare clothes or the odd pair of trainers (though they weren’t really spare, he saved up for weeks to be able to buy them for his friend, hating how painful Noct’s feet looked.) Eventually he manages to convince Noct to come and use his shower whenever he wants, and even manages to get him to stay over a few times during the winter, but he still feels awful every time Noct leaves - even if he does have a huge smile on his face as he goes.

The day Noct bursts through his front door, 13 cats in tow, Prompto goes into panic mode but still helps him barricade every window and door, despite wanting nothing more than to play with the cats because kitties!!! That night they curl up on Prompto’s bed, surrounded by cats and eating Cup Noddles (money was tight and it was all he could afford), the rain battering his windows.

Prompto doesn’t ask what spooked him, he doesn’t care. It’s nice to have someone else at home and even better knowing his best friend is safe.

[thedarklordmegatron]

5 hcs for Noctis growing up on the street even though Regis is alive?

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

Noctis can’t remember his life ‘before’. All he knows is that one morning he woke up curled up in a cardboard box, shivering and soaked to the bone. It’s absolutely terrifying. more so when he can’t even remember his own name. It takes three days for him to work it out and that was only because he found a name-tag sewn into his pants and presumed that must be his name.

A few days after first waking up in that cold alley, he’s starving, thirsty and absolutely filthy. It’s all he can do to wake up and wander the streets, his arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to stay warm. No one spares a glance at the homeless child, there’s so many others walking around, until he stumbles across a camp filled with people. When two of them approach he flees, scared that they’ll try and hurt him. Two days later he sneaks back, drawn in by the warm fire and the small bits of food he saw. They welcome him with open arms, two of the oldest members of the group ushering him towards the fire, while another wraps a blanket around him, and a fourth brings him some slightly stale bread and water. That night he cries himself to sleep, feeling somewhat safe and no longer starving. He didn’t think people could be so nice.

When old man Jack, the unofficial leader of their group, asks how old he is Noctis can’t remember, but he thinks he’s 8? Maybe? So that’s the age they go with and considering he can’t remember his birthday, the group decides that the day they joined is indeed it, which also happens to be the same day as the dead Prince’s one. He doesn’t expect anything, so long as he’s got food in his belly and a blanket wrapped around him, Noctis doesn’t care about anything else, even if he does really want one of those cakes from the bakery on fourth. So when he’s presented with a small cupcake on his 9th birthday, he bursts into tears and insists on sharing it with everyone. No one accepts the offer, insisting that every child should have a special present for the birthday. He makes it last as long as possible and promises to pay them back when he can.

By the time he’s fifteen Noctis has perfected the art of stealing. He’s stolen countless bits of food, bottles of drink and even clothing. As old man Jack once told him, if the King and his people cared more they wouldn’t have to steal to stay alive. At one point his thieving ways result in him hiding in the sewers for three days until the Crownsguard finally gives up the hunt; apparently stealing from said heartless King was a capital offence. Noctis doesn’t care because one, his guards should have been paying attention, and two, that gold watch is going to keep him fed for weeks. 

Noctis accidentally adopts an army of stray cats. He doesn’t actively search for them, because he can hardly feed and care for them when he can’t even care for himself; they just...adopt him. The others like to joke that he’s the King of Cats and honestly Noctis can’t even argue with them. The cats feed themselves but always come to him for cuddles and scritches, they’re like another family and Noctis is incredibly grateful for their body-warmth during the cold winter nights. He’s proud to say that on more than one occasion he’s punched someone for daring to insult/hurt one of his four-legged children; including a Glaive that kicked Sir Gingernut when the cat wrapped himself around the man’s legs. 

[thedarklordmegatron]

Ignis Vampire AU for the 5 HCs thing

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it 

At the age of 11 Ignis went missing from his Uncle’s apartment and it took close to three months before he was finally found; locked in a cage in the basement of and old shipping warehouse, eyes bright red and fangs protruding from his mouth, hissing and growling at the Glaives as they attempted to release him. Unable to free him from his prison without being attacked, as Lazarus had learnt - walking away with a sizeable chunk of flesh torn from his arm, Ignis was moved back to the Citadel in the cage. 

He spent more than two weeks in the very same cage. Crying in agony and screeching in rage, begging for food but unable to keep anything down. An IV resulted in a nurse being stabbed with the needle and bitten, Ignis desperately trying to lap up every drop of blood. It was that attack which led to the revelation that the young Adviser was clearly no longer human. They had initially thought it to be the result of a Scourge infection, but a consultation with the Oracle had confirmed it was not. Vampirism had until that moment been something of myth, however, Ignis’ existence and content expression as he sucked on a blood bag, proved otherwise.

The first time he was exposed to direct sunlight after a year in his cell Ignis started screaming, desperately trying to escape the rays whilst his skin turned bright red and started blistering. Regis, having been present at the time, threw his cloak over the young boy protecting him from the harmful rays until he was hurriedly carried back inside. 

Needless to say he refused to go anywhere near a window or door until his 18th birthday, when his Uncle came to him with a  bright smile and a skull-shaped necklace in his hands. He would never understand Gaius’ following speech or all of the technical terms he threw about, the only thing he understood was that the little pendant was finally giving him some form of life; enchanted by the Oracle and King to protect him from the harmful rays of the sun.

Cor, Clarus and Gaius were his main ‘blood donors’, each man perfectly capable of fighting off the young vampire if he found himself unable to control his hunger.  He’d much rather have preferred to drink from a bag of donated blood as he had done initially, but understood the Infirmary’s need to keep such things for a medical emergency. His first drink went spectacularly wrong, Cor and Clarus having to forcibly pry his jaws off of Gaius’ arm and manhandle him back to his cell. Ignis cried for hours once the bloodlust had settled, cuddling into his Uncle’s side and begging his forgiveness. ‘It’s alright my boy, everything will be alright.’

[thedarklordmegatron]

I've just discovered your blog via your Dad Cor stuff and I love it all

Awww thank you! I’m glad you like the random stuff I spew out!

His favourite possession is a life-sized Chocobo plush, a gift from Uncle Reggie for his fourth birthday. Every morning following on from his birthday, Cor would walk into his bedroom and find him curled up on the plush. Who needs a bed when you have a super big Chocobo?

He went through a period of four weeks where he refused to eat anything if it didn’t come with applesauce. Cereal - there’d be a small bowl of it waiting for him. Sandwiches? Another bowl on the edge of his plate. Cor honestly had no clue where the obsession came from, but if it stopped his son from throwing a fit every two seconds, he’d buy every pot of the stuff in Insomnia.

Prompto will climb everything and everyone. Cor left him in the living room for two minutes, when he came back in it took a further ten minutes of panicking before he found him. Somehow Prompto had climbed up onto the bookshelf and stayed silent because it was more amusing to watch his dad panic.

3 year old Prom hated baths. So much so that he would sit in the water and scream in the hopes that Cor would let him out - he didn’t. There was one occasion where Prompto escaped the apartment and spent an hour running around in the nude, avoiding his dad’s attempts to catch him. In the end it was Gladiolus who caught him - well, more like Prompto stopped to pet a cat with him and was promptly recaptured by Cor.

He loved to dance. He’d dance to absolutely anything and everything; ringtones, the news theme, the maid’s humming, if it had a beat he’d dance. He once managed to get a large group of Crownsguards to dance with him.

[thedarklordmegatron]

Is it ok to ask about a certain story setting for an au? (Like nocts first Christmas with his street fam)

Hey there Greycloak, sorry for the late reply! 

I am more than happy for you to send me a certain setting! Most of the time I’ll respond with a drabble or ficlet unless I get carried away and write something longer ^_^

I’m going to flesh this out into something longer because this is a concept I’d never considered before now! In the meantime have some headcanons ;D

He wasn’t really sure why people started putting up lots of lights and decorations, but they were super pretty and helped him forget how cold he was when he watched them.

Likewise he's confused when one morning he woke up and found Albinus, the oldest of the little group that had 'adopted' him, sitting next to his box. More so when Albinus smiles and lays a warm, fluffy blanket over his shoulders wishing him a ‘Happy Shiva’s Day kiddo’.

He's taught that Shiva's day happens every year on the same day. It's a celebration of the goddess' love and a day where people swap presents and have fun. Noctis is distraught when he realises the blanket was a present for him. 'But I haven't got you anything!' He protests, to which Albinus and a few of the other adults nearby just laugh.

'It's okay kid, we don't need anything.' And he's more than grateful that no one points out the tears he wipes away on the blanket.

The adults head out earrly in the afternoon, leaving Noct with the older teens, and come back several hours later with a few bags in their arms. The bags, as it turns out, are full of small little boxes. Little boxes filled with food.

'This time of year the good folks like to make sure we all eat. So don't you leave any of it now.' Albinus says as he gives Noct a box filled with meat, potatoes and a small cake.

That night instead of retreating to his box like he normally does, Noct sits up with the adults and learns several new songs. At some point he drifts off, stomach full and wrapped in his new blanket. It's not perfect, and he still wishes that they were in one of the houses so their fingers and toes didn't get so cold, but he's happy and to him that's the best present in the world.

[thedarklordmegatron]

Fleurentia - Arranged marriage for the 5 AU thingy!

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

No one had seen it coming and no one quite knew why the Empire pushed for such a union, though Ignis suspected it had something to do with weakening Noctis emotionally. Within a week of the Imperial envoy arriving, Ignis was forced to say his goodbyes to the only home and family he’d ever known before being shipped off to Tenebrae. 

It absolutely breaks both Ignis and Noctis the day Noctis is forced to take away his access to the Armiger, they’ve been connected to one another via it’s magic since childhood, having it taken from him feels like losing a limb. It also leaves him feeling isolated and alone as he sits among MTs on the flight to Tenebrae - they wouldn’t even allow his Uncle to accompany him.

The days following the wedding were complete and utter hell for Ignis, locked away in his rooms with no one to talk to and very little to occupy his time. He’d spent most of the first week crying and desperately trying to find something to take his mind off of the isolation. After ten days Ravus finally stood outside his door, dressed in his Imperial uniform, carrying a few books and a stack of letters. Ignis would have kissed him had he been sure the man would not lash out at him for it.

To Ignis’ immense relief it isn’t long before Ravus starts to visit him every day, bringing along something new each time, from books to flowers he thinks Ignis might appreciate. Eventually after what feels like a lifetime, but is in fact only a few weeks, Ravus brings Ignis to his own apartments where there’s a fully functioning kitchen. He never quite released just how much he relied on cooking as an outlet for his stress, that is until he accidentally cooks up a 5 course meal suitable for four. That evening Ravus leaves and returns with Lady Lunafreya and another woman, Commodore Highwind, in tow. They laugh, drink and genuinely have a good time, and for the first time since arriving in Tenebrae Ignis starts to think that perhaps he can learn to enjoy life married to Ravus.

Ravus does what he can to protect Ignis. He’s well aware of the hatred many of the Imperial court have for his husband, and isn’t that a strange thought, and knows he must be permanently vigilant if he is to keep him safe. Ignis might be perfectly capable of holding his own in a fight, but he’s woefully under-armed and is in unfamiliar territory, he wouldn’t stand a chance against a group of MTs or the Chancellor. He makes sure that Ignis is unaware of the twenty-seven attempts that have already been made on his life. 

[thedarklordmegatron]

Holy shit I'm dead. Can we have a list of the names of Noctis' four-legged children please?

Noct has 13 cat-children so far! Here they are in age-order:

Catloaf - he was the first cat to adopt Noctis. On a particularly cold morning, Noct woke up to find the purring lump curled up against his chest and he’s never left. He’s also adopted the rest of the cats as his children and will fight to protect each and every one of them.

Lady Fingerbiter - her name says it all. She’s a grumpy old lady that will bite anyone that tries to stroke her, even if she comes up to them demanding scritches. 

Gilgamesh - this was the only cat Noctis didn’t name. He came across the old guy shivering in a soaking wet box, an old rusted collar around his neck with his name engraved on it. One of the older members of Noctis’ group informed him that the name was that of an ancient sword-master. 

Sir Gingernut - is a giant ginger demon. He’s never bitten Noctis but is very nasty towards anyone he deems a threat. One of the others looks at Noctis wrong? Sir Gingernut will bite whatever limb is closest. Get too close to Noct’s spot and you’ll have a screaming ginger demon chasing you.

Om Nom Nommer - is a chubby lil girl. She’s not very big but will eat absolutely everything. From normal food to random bits of cardboard, if it fits in her mouth she will eat it.

Ghost - she’s a tiny little thing. Despite being with him for three years she’s still not much bigger than his hand and never strays far from ‘home’

Legs - aptly named because he’s a tall boy. When Noctis first met him he legitimately thought the kitten was a Coeurl cub purely because of his size. Now fully grown he comes up to Noctis’ knee and has the loudest meow imaginable.

Victory - Noct named her that after he saw her win a fight against three much larger cats, and avoided being squished by several cars as she fled. Likewise it was one hell of a victory when she finally thought him safe enough to come and spend the night with him and the other six. 

Stella - She’s a gentle soul who can almost always be found curled up on top of Noctis’ meagre possessions. In fact the only time she’s ever violent is when someone other than Noctis touches something that belongs to him.

Lux  & Leo - Noctis came across the pair of black cats when they were very young kittens, their mother was nowhere to be seen and he was hardly going to leave them to starve to death. They’re always together and are quite the mischievous pair, pouncing on the others and biting tails when they think they can get away with it.

Aurelio -  He’s Noct’s favourite. The obvious runt of his litter, he’s pure white with the brightest blue eyes. He’s always the last to eat and will often go hungry unless Noctis keeps something aside for him. Whenever Noctis goes out for an extended period of time, wandering to the other side of Insomnia he always takes Aurelio with him; primarily because he knows the little bean will try to follow him anyway.

Titan - he’s the baby of the bunch but also the largest, dark brown and extremely overweight. Noct’s pretty sure that he has a home somewhere but prefers to hang around with them for some reason.