#Like man is still there despite being a deamon

[meangreennunseen]

I really need to read some novels featuring daemon Fulgrim, because I have no idea how changed his personality/thinking is. I have ideas, but I have no idea how accurate.

I can write Fulgrim before he fell to chaos pretty well, I think I imagine him quite accurate to lore, but daemon is real pain in the ass to me.

[valdederon]

FLAMES JOURNEY CHAPTER #7 ghosts of the past give advice

.while unconcious the flash backs rturn untill a dark tunnel opens . valdederon runs into the tunnel unaware he knocked him self out and his canciousness is in a realm of spirits when he meets his long dead master. beastkin a large golden fox with 7 tails the large fox covered in scars and smoking from a pipe despite being in a spirit realm.

valdederon---..m.master raykore..h.. whats..

raykore--- you look up set sprout.. come on over and plop a seat lets talk.

valdederon---- im not a damed sprout… whats going.

raykore---- SIT… NOW VAL..YOUR STILL MY APRENTICE WEATHER IM DEAD OR NOT.

valdederon yelps tail between his legs the 3000 year old fox the only person who has ver scared him other then the deamon who put him through hell.

valdederon---yes mam..

he shakily walks over and sits next to the stone as the realm around suddenly becombes a castles tower an old ancient run down but still sturdy castle

raykore---- your scared.. whats scaring you.. ha ha ha clearly not any living creature.. i may have been dead but i did see your 1 man ..crusade against the demons while up here. im verry dissapointed in the cruelty you showed..but you have changed since then. still whats bothering you there isnt much that can scare you to the point you run away.

valdederon--- im. ., the guild…i dont want to be hated.. if they found out what ive.what i did when i fought.

raykore--- i see. youve always been hesitant to show your emotions. distrusting. distant. they love you for who you are now val.. they love like i loved you. you even once called me moma when you were 10. he he.let them into your heart dont try to shield it from them they wont abandon you or hate you i do not hate you. youve always been like a son to me a son and my aprentice. but im no longer among the living.. but they are those snake creatures they took you into thier home and have been raising you from a little fox kit to the big fire brat you are now.

she ruffles his head softly.

raykore--- your strong , smart , and verry tallented protect others treat evryone with kindness and punish the evil.. but do not torture or put them in un needed harm. abide by my teachings im still proud that youve kept me in your heart after all these years. but you have a chance to have a real family now.. i know youve felt it to the way your heart warms seeing kleo and taiga. break free from the shackles of your horid past my young wizard .

she boops him on the nose making him fall limp in the spirit realm and wakes up in the infirmary a full week having passed while he was out . furr matted and and rough throat dry his body unusaly warm as he sits up with a whimper not seeing kleo or taiga. with in seconds he begins to dry sob startling evergreen wake aon out of his chair with a loud thud against a bunch of books shelvs causing a clatering racket that echos through the guild halls kleo hearing and in lighting speed bolts in from the mess hall were she was and curls up around valdederon who feels the familliar coils and begins to calm down to sniffling and a light pur.

kleo--- whats wrong val are you

she feels his grip on her as if he hadnt seen her in months and chuckles .

evergreen--- oh yea.. im fine dont mind me just beeing crushed by a mountain of books.. dont get up all at once to check on me..

he gets up out of the pile chuckling after his sarcastic quip.

kleo---you ok..

evergreen--- other then having the shit startled out of me and a half dozen loaded book shelves trying to clover the life out of me im fine.. just some ruffled fur and maybey a couple bruises. guess the kid woke up… atleast it seems hes calmed down ill go gather up some food for him.

kleo---bring in some water skins and oran berries as well he will probably ask him sellf as well.

evergreen--- but,,, hes a fire type wouldnt that.

kleo--- i found him drinking water from one of my water skins once.. trust me its wierd but he likes it.

he sighs rolling his eyes and head out with a chuckle

after a painfuly silent 20 minutes valdederon looks down at his paws more confused now then before but not overly terrified. ears folded over he looks up at kleo eyes red and irritated.

valdederon--- i ..im not ready to talk about my past right now…i..im.. i dont want people to hate me..p..please dont make me tell any one yet..

he tears up shaking heavily and kleo sighs gently tightening her coils abit to warmly embrace valdederon.

kleo--- ok bud when your ready come get me ok but first the guild master and i have somthing we want to ask you. but that can wait untill your healed up you took a heafty tumble and were out for a week.

evergreen comes in with a pile of berries in a paper bag and a few water skins setting them on the floor next to the nest.

valdederon---my fur is a mess.. i want to take a bath,… a hot bath..

kleo--- i think that can be arranged but first lets get you some food and water

valdederon whimpers stomach in pain having not been able to keep anything down and he notices the bag of berries tail gently wagging between ove of kleos many coils before she lets him go . valdederon begins eating the berries with speed ocasionaly stopping to chug the many water skins much to evergreens shock .

evergreen--- .. oh mother mew that aint right thats just… how can he.. wow…

after a few minutes all 7 water skins and the 5 pounds of oran berries and pecha berries have been downed valdederon purring as he flomps onto his back yawning exaustedly.but then sits back up gently rubbing hes eyes and yelps feeling his legs twinge in pain.

evergreen---careful.. your legs are broken and still healing you wont be able to move for a nother week or 2.

valdederon--- dam it but i need a bath my furr is a matted mess come on.

evergreen-- don raise your voice with me even if kleo wanted to disobey rulles in this medical wing she cant .. im the only doctor/medic in this guild i have ben for 20 years. and my word is law in this room NO BATH.. NO MOVING… got it kid.

valdederon yelps and kleo chuckles staring at the stuborn but kind hearted leafeon.

the nexy couple weeks seem to drag by slowly and iratantly for the bed ridden braxen while his legs heal his furr getting more and more frayed messy and puffed up. but soon enough evergreen comes in and begins using leaf blade to remove the thick heavy clasts on valdederons legs and helps him up to his feat to get to a hot spring near the guild just up the valley 5 minutes away. picking some fresh oran berries on the way up and getting valdederon set in the hotspring.

evergreen--- im amazed you can stand water at all beeing a fire type. it causes water burns.

valdederon--- some stinging water wont hurt me.. not anymore then my past. ill be talking to kleo about it today. i just, ugh, ive done not nice things to people who i was fighting in battle…stuff that would land me in jail here.

evergreen falls silent and sighs rubbing valdederons back

evergreen--- what ever you did in your world doesnt matter here bud we wont treat you any different then we already have ben doing since you arived. evryone cares about you even if you have been stuborn and combative for awhile your almost 6 now

valdederon---i havent felt any love in a long time i dont even know what it feels like anymore..in the human world.i lost evrything at 8 years old.. i stoped trusting people… closed my self off to the universe. spent my life with one eye over my shoulder. i dont want to be alone anymore. im tired of beeing alone i.

evergreen puts his paw silently on valdederons mouth and kisses his fore head and nuzzles affectionately.

evergreen----shhhhhh. your not alone any more were all a family in the guild.. just take your time to adjust now ill head off to get some more berries and let you get to your bath no one likes beeing watched when bathing.

he nods and begins scrubbing his furr softly as evergreen heads out washing all the dirt and dust out of his furr later after finisheing he climbs out and begins eatin the oran berries sitting on the wrock water dripping down his furr the heat from his body slowly drying the furr as it drips . evergreen comes back a couple minutes later with a pile of berries witch they both share.

valdederon--- now im clean and my furr fells great. after were done munching lets head back in to the guild so i can talk to kleo and taiga..immmmph.. this is going to suck…

[vermithorbonded]

He couldn't believe what was happening. To have his chest ripped open wouldn't hurt this much. His eyes water as Aemond's words settle in his heart. Daemon would rather that his brother had just killed him right then and there, other than to declare him a traitor himself.

"You're not serious." Daemon can hear his heart pounding in his ears, it feels like he's drowning. He doesn't turn to look at Aemond, instead he just face the Kingsguard in front of him, a strong man that would have ease to drag him anywhere.

"Stop this madness while there's still time." He now turns to his brother, but the guard grabs his arm and prevent him from approaching the prince. "Aemond!" But his plead has no effect upon his twin, and as he struggles to get rid of the grip, the other guard grabs hold of his other arm, dragging him out of the room.

The seizure of the prince was quite a spectacle for the servants of the castle. His voice echoed through the halls while Daemon shout at the guards about their treason. The only reason why they didn't knocked him out, was because they still had some respect for his title.

As he was dragged down the stairs, his mind was swarmed by fear. Would Aemond be capable of killing him? Could he do to him what he did to Aegon? His heart seem to skip a beat and his legs tremble, but the guards never stopped. They were reaching the courtyard and as the sunlight blind him for a moment, Daemon also felt terribly anxious.

Meraxion.

Meraxion was anxious. Could the dragon have felt the prince's agony far away at the dragon pit? He wouldn't doubt, their connection was strong.

"Vūjot ñuha elēni!"¹ The prince shout to the skyes, knowing in his heart that his dragon could hear it.

"Shut up!" One of the guards command, seemingly losing the previous respect for the prince.

"Iksan kesīr!"² He shout again, believing Aemond was too far away to hear and knowing the guards wouldn't understand him. "Kesīr, ñuha tresy."³ A sudden and loud roar made the guards stop their pacing and look into the sky.

Daemon smiles as the sunlight is covered by the emerald dragon. He was far from being the biggest dragon in the family, but he was big enough not to fit in the courtyard. Landing on the roof and shattering a few tiles, he roars menacingly to the guards, seeming to interpret their behavior as a menace to Deamon's life. As he opens his maw, his intention to set the guards on fire is obvious.

As desperation swallow their hearts, the guards let go of the prince and unsheathe their swords. The fear clearly taking over their minds, as if swords could to anything to a dragon.

"Daor! Meraxion!" Daemon comands. Despite hating the guards for seizing him, he knew they were merely following orders, even that those orders came from someone with the same authority as his own, but Aemond was way more feared than he was, and it was obvious the guards would rather to obey him.

While the guards were busy fearing for their lives, Daemon took the chance and ran. He had to reach to the battlements, where he could mount the dragon, but he could hear the guards comming after him already.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, but its warmth never reached where they stood. There was a stillness in the room, a fragile quiet that felt as though the world itself had stopped to listen to the unspoken words between them. The weight of Daemon's broken voice hung in the air, and for a drawn-out moment, it seemed as though the floor might give way beneath it all.

Aemond remained still, unmoving, unspeaking. He wanted to feel anger, wanted to push back against the sting of betrayal that clung to his twin's words. But instead, something far more bitter rose inside him, something that gnawed at him in ways he could not easily name.

I believed in you.

The words, fragile as they were, struck harder than any blade. Aemond could feel Daemon's sorrow, but it only deepened the chasm between them. Daemon wasn't mourning the death of their family; he was mourning the brother Aemond once was. That truth settled over him like a cloak of cold iron. Daemon had chosen to stand apart, to walk the path that diverged from his own. And for Aemond, that was a wound he could not ignore.

The silence stretched long between them, and for a fleeting moment, Aemond's expression softened. He had always known their family was fractured, perhaps beyond repair, but hearing it from Daemon's lips felt like the final crack in the foundation. He watched his twin, a man who now seemed so small, so burdened by the weight of his own conscience. It pained him, in a way, to see that Daemon still believed there was a choice to be made, that they might have avoided this abyss.

The edge of the abyss. That was what Daemon had called it.

And perhaps it was true. They were on the edge of something darker, something inevitable, and Aemond knew what had to be done.

For a long moment, it almost seemed as if he would let his brother walk away. There was a glimmer of something, regret, maybe, or even a kind of understanding, in Aemond's eye as he considered the man before him. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came. He couldn't let this betrayal stand. Not from Daemon. Not from anyone.

The soft creak of the door breaking the silence was the first sign that everything had changed. The Kingsguard entered, moving with swift precision, their presence like a cold gust of wind cutting through the fragile moment. They didn't hesitate, didn't wait for further instruction. Aemond's will was already known. They moved toward Daemon with purpose, hands outstretched, ready to seize him.

Aemond turned his head slowly, the faintest of sighs escaping his lips as though the decision had taken something from him, even if it didn't show. " Take him, " he said, his voice quiet but commanding. " Take him to the dungeons and weigh him down with irons. I'll decide his fate soon enough. "

The Kingsguard closed in, surrounding Daemon, and Aemond did not look away. The sorrow in his twin's words still echoed, but the decision had been made. Daemon had chosen a side, and Aemond had no choice but to respond. His brother had gone against him, and that could not be forgiven.

As they led Daemon away, Aemond's gaze lingered, watching the space his twin had occupied just moments before. His heart was heavy, though he would never admit it aloud. In the end, it wasn't the sorrow of losing Daemon that stung the most, it was the knowledge that Daemon had lost faith in him. That, more than anything, was the wound that cut the deepest.

[marvelcriminalhoe]

Mavs Kinktober

Dark! Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen! Reader

“You look good with my hand around your throat.”

Warnings: This is a Dark! story, so 18+ only. Noncon. Incest (Uncle/Niece.) Age gap. Pervy Daemon. Creepy men. Forced touching. Grouping. Unwanted touching. Manipulation. Choking. Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it.) Damaging someone’s reputation (On purpose.) Talks of forced marriage. 

AN: 3rd time posting because it just wont show up in the tags :/ Anyway stay tuned for more Daemon and the rest of my kinktober stories!

Word Count: 3,838

It’s tiering sometimes being a princess. Of course, you try not to complain, not wanting to burden anyone with your selfish thoughts, you definitely don't have it as your sister Rhaenyra, the heir to the iron thrown, but it’s still tiering. Having to constantly be regal and poised, having to converse with people that want nothing more than to use you to up their own status in court, having to entertain the hoards of Lords that want to marry you, only for power and your body. 

Rhaenyra and you have always been close, only 2 years between the two of you, and you know far more Lords tried to gain her favor than you, but usually, when they would strike out with her, most of them would crawl to your side and try for the other princess. 

Despite your closeness, you are very different. The main one being you’ve never understood the whispers of the dragons rage, not having experienced it like the rest of your blood, but watching your sister next to you, you only hoped you never would. 

Your sisters rage only seemed to intensify when her betrothal to your cousin, Laenor, was announced by king father. She stormed out of the council meeting and you swear you could see actual smoke coming off of her. She protested, loudly, screamed and cried at your father. She didn't want to marry him, the only man she wanted to marry was the prince of the city, your uncle, Deamon Targaryen. 

Rhaenyra had always sort of been infatuated with him. You could understand why, he was handsome, had that adventurous spirit your sister also carried, and was not a poised member of the court, something your sister loathed of all her other suitors. 

She seemed to always over looked how controlling Daemon seemed to be. How dark his gaze was, the demons within his eyes always sending shivers down your spine when his purple orbs connected with yours. 

Unlike your sister, you always tried to avoid him, which also always seemed to be hard task. Where you were, Daemon seemed to follow. If you were in the gardens, enjoying a nice walk, he would soon appear by your side, offering you his arm and taking the walk with you, no matter how much you protested wanting to be alone. If you were in the library, reading a book in the quiet, he seemed to know, seeking you out and ruining the silence with his deep voice. 

Daemon just aways seemed to rub you the wrong way, his lingering eyes, his far too sweet touch. The rumors about him didn't help. The stories of his anger, his temper, only heightened your fear. You never understood Rhaenyra’s true fascination. 

If you’re going to be wed to a Lord, you hope it will be someone kind, someone you can for a friendship with. Your sister did not seem to have the same sentiment. 

Sadly, your sister did not get her wish. Your uncle, who's wife died a 4 moon turns ago, declined the offer to marry your sister, something that shocked everyone, aside from your father however, who seemed highly pleased with his answer. 

If you were brave enough, you would have questioned him about why he would do such a thing, but instead, you gently excused yourself to follow your sister out, allowing her to cry on your shoulder while you tried consoling her heartbreak. 

Two moon turns later, your sister, still forlorn, was dressed to the nines for her wedding. You complimented her dress and hair, trying to get a smile on her face, but her mood did not rise. Not while getting ready, not at the ceremony, and not even at the celebration feast afterwards. 

You watched her most of the night from where you sat at the head table, her gaze locked on your uncle, who seemed keen on ignoring her completely. Calling out her name when she seemed to have enough of the festivities in her honor, you chose not to follow as she left the hall, instead sending a sympathetic smile to Laenor as he followed his now wife. 

With your sister and her new husband gone, definitely not enjoying their marital bed, you are left alone, without a shield from the Lords visiting, and with Rhaenyra officially off the market, it will only be that more exhausting to try and fend them off.

Which is how you ended up here, trying to discreetly get out of a conversation with Lord Jason Lannister, the absolute bane of your existence. He is an egotistical man, but then again, most of them are. Lord Lannister just seems to always know how to trap you in conversation with him for far too long. 

Just as you are trying, again, to excuse yourself, a voice from behind you seems to do it for you, “Lord Lannister, would you mind giving me a moment with my dear niece.” It was phrased as a question, but everyone knew it wasn’t one. Prince Daemon doesn't ask questions, only gives orders. You don’t hear what Lord Lannister says to him, turning around to face your uncle. He’s closer than you thought, or is appropriate, but that also doesn't surprise you. 

Daemon is anything but appropriate. 

“Uncle.” You greet, your voice coming out as more of a whisper when his purple gaze meets yours. This is the closest you've been to him since he returned to the castle, having been away for awhile. You've been successful in avoiding him, having your hand in a lot of the preparations for your sisters wedding, trying to make sure that despite her not wanting it, it would still be a day fit for the future queen. 

Daemon returns your greeting with your name falling from his lips, almost in a mocking whisper to match yours. You take in his appearance. His pink lips painted with a smirk, his white hair now cut short and pushed back, a few stray strands falling in front. He is handsome, something everyone has always known, even you.

Just as you took him in, Daemon seems to have taken you in as well. His eyes, dark and enticing, trailing up and down your body, with a deep hunger, his tongue poking out to wet his lips, his hand reaching out to curl a strand of your hair behind your ear, his warm, callused hand resting a few moments longer on your soft skin than is proper, as he speaks your families mother language, “Ao jurnegon gevie, riñītsos.” Your heart speeds up a little at his words, You look beautiful, little girl,  But he doesn't stop there, “Se olvie gevie riña isse se dārion.” The most beautiful girl in the kingdom. 

You clear your throat, briefly blinking away from his stare before gaining the courage to look back at him, “I think that is insensitive to say, considering this is the future queens wedding.” 

“And yet,” Daemon smirks, stepping closer to you, “It doesn't stop it from being true.” 

When you were younger, you, like your sister, admired your uncle. He was always fun to be around, entertaining you with stories of his life, taking you on a ride with Caraxes before you were allowed to ride your own dragon, giving you gifts from his many travels all around. It wasn’t until you grew into womanhood when you started to drift away, being taught by your Septa after your first bleed that some men are not good men, even if they are good around you. You learned how to properly read people, how to know which rumors are true and which are not, and that is how you learned that your uncle, has never been who you thought he was. 

Daemon Targaryen is a Dragon, through and through. 

“It seems the feast has tired me out more than I believed, surely I should retire.” You find yourself trying to excuse yourself from the man, much like you do with the other men of the court that give off the warning bells in your head, “Sȳz bantis, kepus.” Goodnight, uncle.

Though, your escape is in vain, “I shall escort you to your chambers then.” Daemon offers you his arm. You open your mouth to protest, stating your guard can escort you, only for Daemon to intervene, “Who better to protect you than your warrior uncle, dear niece?” You didn't have an answer for that, making you be on a quiet walk down the halls of the castle, your uncle by your side. The walk to your chambers seemed longer tonight, a small chill in the air as you move, and you think your uncle is walking slower than normal to prolong the journey. A thought you let leave your mind the moment it enters, Why would he do that? It’s not like you’re even conversing. 

Reaching your doors, you are surprised to see the entry way empty of a guards presence, making your frown. There is always a guard in front of your chambers, your father all but demanding it, over protective, especially after your mother died and your sisters adventurous ways. 

“It would be very reckless of me to leave you unguarded.” Your uncle voices, drawing you back from the wandering thoughts of where your guard could be. 

You send a small, forced smile up at him, “I am sure I will be fine until they return.” “Then I will stay until then.” Daemon responds, and you should have known he always gets what he wants. With a sigh, you walk into your chambers, only for your uncle to follow you in as well, you turn to face him, “Uncle?” “You don’t expect the Prince to wait outside, do you, dear niece?” He questioned sarcastically, walking past you and further into the room, over towards your fireplace, making himself comfortable on the couch in front of it. 

“What if someone sees you leave my chambers?” You don't want people getting any sort of ideas to spread rumors and tarnish your reputation. 

Daemon quells your worries with a hearty laugh, “Is it a crime to want to spend time with my niece, who I have missed dearly on my travels?”

When you didn't move from your stunned spot by the door, he turns his head to you, brow raised, “Kessa ao daor join aōha kepa, gevie riña?” Will you not join your uncle, pretty girl?

You feel yourself flustered from his outward flirting, not used to such blatant compliments. Sure, you get the occasional one, but most are worried of being inappropriate and taken wrong, offending you, a princess, but obviously the city prince is not worried about such things. 

“You enjoy reading, don’t you?” Daemon gestures to your stacks of books among the wall when you sit on the couch with him, keeping a good distance between the both of you. His question is not one you expected, but it leads you into a nice conversation with him about the things you've learned, making you relax the longer you are in his presence, not even noticing Daemon nearing you as the conversation goes on. 

It’s not until he interrupts one of your retellings of Dragon History: Targaryen Riders, that you see how close you've gotten. Your shoulder brushing his, making you falter and tense up, “Your dress is very lovely.” His eyes are scrutinizing as he studies the layers of red and gold cloth adorning you. “Thank you,” You falter, not knowing if he actually means it, it’s always hard to tell with him. If he’s mocking you or being serious. 9 times out of 10 it’s the former, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mmm.” Daemon hums, eyes slowly moving from up to your eyes, “I can see why. Though, I am sure the corset is dreadful to wear for so long.” You laugh lightly, he’s not wrong, “I have had plenty of practice.” 

“Well, in the comfort of your own chambers, I am sure you can enjoy being out of the confines of such a foundation.” 

His suggestion catches you off guard, making your eyes widen. Surely he knows how improper his insinuation is, even, and especially being, behind closed doors. But judging by how his eyes are glued to your covered chest, moving up and down more rapidly with every passing minute by the bubbling anxiety in your veins, he is completely aware. Your mouth goes dry, as you feel his warm hand gently caressing your skin, up your arm, over your clothed shoulder, to your back, where the laces of your corset sit. 

“Daemon—“ You start, only to gasp as he skillfully undoes them. It shouldn't surprise you, you suppose, you’ve heard all of the rumors of him, he probably has plenty of experience with untying a woman’s corset. 

“Just trying to get you more comfortable.” Daemon remarks, as if this is a normal situation. Granted, it is for him. 

He doesn't give you time to reject, using both of his hands to unlace your corset, and the top of your skirt, forcing you to throw both of your hands up to hold your top in place, keeping your dignity, or whats left of it now.

“Stand up.” Daemon demands, making you shake your head, his voice growing more impatient, “Stand up.”

You do as your told, afraid of the repercussions if he were to be angered further, swallowing thickly as he uses his hands on your waist to turn you to face him, your skirt lowering slightly from you standing, being pushed down more and falling to your knees. You hear him hum as he grabs your wrists, forcing them down with tight grips, and making your corset fall the same way.

You feel embarrassed, not being able to look the prince in the eyes as he takes in your body lustfully. Your not bare to him, thankfully, but the small slip  you wear under your dresses to keep from the laces rubbing your skin raw is as thin as one of your sleep dresses. Still, you’ve never been this exposed to a man. It’s indecent, and if someone were to know, were to find out, your character would be seriously tarnished. Ruined. 

“Iā drēje jurnegon.” Daemon says, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to reach out to the slip, rubbing the silk between his fingers. A true sight.

You gasp as he pulls you forward closer to him, between his spread knees. You try to remain standing, but with another harsh pull, you fall on his lap, “Iā jaesa, drējī.” A Goddess, truly. 

“Daemon—” You try to move off of his lap, his tight grip on your hips making you stay in place with a wince, a warning given no doubt. 

“Let me enjoy the beauty in front of me.” He orders, his hands roaming your body. You jolt in shock as one of his thumbs rubs over your breast, your nipple hardening as he does it again. You feel tears pricing your eyes, but don’t try to pull away again, the bruises forming already from his angry hands keeping you complacent. “You have grown into such a beautiful lady over the years, forced me to watch you from afar. Teased me for too long.” A whimper leaves your lips and the first of the tears falls from your eyes when you feel the softest of caresses from Daemon’s lips touch your neck. The sound seemed to have broke any resolve he was holding back, if there was any to begin with, and your world spins as he flips you onto your back, him above you, making a home between your legs. The darkness in his eyes has you terrified as he looks down at you, but your reputation has you pleading with him, “Please uncle, Daemon— stop this.” 

“Such a sweet voice,” He ignores your words, “Such a sweet girl.” He reconnects his lips to your neck, much harsher than the caress from earlier, “You taste just as sweet.”

You use your hands to push on his shoulders, but he drops all of his weight onto you, making your effort futile. You have no doubt that he is sucking and biting marks onto your neck, marks that you wont be able to hide or conceal, marks that will have rumors about your innocence roaming the halls of every castle in the seven realms. 

“Stop.” You try again, but with the crack in your voice, sniffle of your nose, it is so pathetic. 

Daemon listens to you however, tearing his lips from your neck to glare down at your face, moving one of his roaming hands to your throat, squeezing tightly, “You do not give me orders.” The sneer of his lips you've seen before, something he gives to his enemies, and somehow, that includes you now.

How you are the foe in this situation, baffles you. 

More tears fall from your eyes as you wrap your hands around his wrist, trying and failing to pry it from your throat. His eyes zero in on his hand, contracting around your neck more, cutting off your airway completely. The sneer turns into a smug smirk, the glint in his eyes growing darker if possible, “You look good with my hand around your throat.”  He draws his face closer, forcing a kiss upon your lips, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, as he huskily says between them, “You were made to wear my hand. Made for me to use.”

He removes his hand, having you draw in gasps of air, not realizing the tearing sound you hear is your slip until you feel Daemon’s tongue on your exposed breasts. 

His sucking and biting borders on painful, but it doesn't stop the sounds from falling from your mouth, embarrassingly loud. The groan that follows from Daemon is sinful, as is the shock you receive when he grounds his hips into yours. 

“Lvestragī nyke rȳbagon aōha dōna sounds arlī, ñuha jorrāelagon.” Daemon demands, Let me hear your sweet sounds again, my love, Grounding his hips against yours over and over, pulling the sounds from you, no matter how hard you try to hid them. 

You whimper when he finally pulls away, out of relief or distress you aren't sure, but Daemon doesn’t completely get off you, instead undoing his trousers and pulling his cock free, you start to panic again. 

“Daemon, don’t do this.” Tears falling freely down your face as you watch the prince run his hand up and down his hard, red cock. You’ve never seen one, and wonder briefly if all of them are this big, but you don’t get to have anymore thoughts as his cock brushes against the lips of your cunt, “Please don’t!” You try to sit up, only for one of his hands to find home around your neck again, squeezing enough to caution you into not moving again. 

“Don’t play so innocent.” Daemon stares at his cock, running through your lips and gathering your wetness, “If you didn't want this, you wouldn't be so soaked for me.” He groans as he moves his cock to your opening, his head sinking in slowly, as his gaze moves to your tear stained face, “You want me as much as I want you, princess. Crave me as I crave you.” 

Your sobs of pain and dread don’t discourage him as he continues to sink into you until his his naked hips are flesh against yours. The small shake of your head doesn’t stop him from believing in his words.

“How you've deprived me too long of your soft walls and sweet flesh. I’ll teach you everything about pleasure, eventually. ” Daemon waits only a second before pulling out and pushing back in, your legs wide around him, his eyes staring at yours, his hair framing his face, his hand still securely around your throat, “But tonight, I’ve waited too long. You’re mine. From tonight on I will not be deprived again.”

He moans louder as he speeds up his thrusts dropping his head down to your neck. You feel sick at the feel of him inside you, his hot breath on your skin, his moans in your ear. But what makes you feel the most ailing, is how good it starts to feel, your body betraying you the most in this affair. 

“I feel you squeezing me.” Daemon groans, letting go of your throat to grope your breast instead, kissing up you jaw, “Let me hear you.” He murmurs, “Lvestragī nyke rȳbagon mirre lī gevie elēni.” Let me hear all those beautiful sounds. 

His whispering in your ear and the skillful assault of his hands and hips has you whimpering. You can feel every inch of him inside you, a disgustingly pleasing thought as you allow for the pleasure to take over you, not having the strength to continue fighting. You don’t know how long you whimper underneath him until you’re crying out, reaching your peak, and coming around him, squeezing his cock as tight as he squeezed your throat earlier. 

The action makes Daemon growl, “That’s it, love. Let me feel you. Feels good doesn't it?” He speeds up his thrusts, angling your hips to go deeper and harder against you, “My cock feels so good inside you, made to be inside you. We were made for each other.” 

His lips crash against yours firmly, bruising-ly, his hips stuttering as you feel his cock throb against your walls, his cum coating your insides as he drops onto of you completely, chest heaving up and down. 

The kiss turns soft as he seems to come down from his own high, pulling away to ogle you beneath him, spent from his intrusions. He peppers your face with soft pecks, not caring for the taste of salt as you continue to cry lightly. You whine as he pulls out of you, sore, but you're too exhausted to care about anything else. You feel yourself be lifted from the couch and moved to a soft mattress, your tired brain supplying it’s probably your bed. You hear the sound of clothes rustling, and someone stoking the fire, before the mattress and blankets seem to move, hands grabbing at your aching body and pulling you towards them. 

“We’ll tell them in the morning.” You feel Daemon murmur against your temple, placing more soft caresses against you, “We’ll tell them your mine and marry you to me, as it’s always meant to be. Your reputation renewed.” 

You whine, something that doesn't make sense. There are so many things you should say, that need to be done, your reputation completely tarnished now, innocence taken, even with talks of trying to fix it with marriage, a marriage you've never wanted with him.

A marriage he’s seemed too keen to have regardless. 

“Shh, it’s alright,”Daemon whispers in your ear as he curls around your worn out form, you feel something hard probing your oversensitive area, but your exhaustion seems to only grow heavier, “Just going to keep me warm, nothing else. I’ll let you rest. I’m sure your guard is back from the errand he was running for me and your sounds are only for my ears right now."

You don’t protest his words, allowing darkness to consume you completely. Not as if you could protest. Daemon Targaryen is a dragon, through and through, and he always gets what he wants.

[trail-of-harts]

My little love, why not tell us all a story to pass the time? Or would that be too distracting?

...you know what? yeah, sure.

I could recite this one backwards so Im sure it wont distract me to much

Back before our wilds were shrinking and our elders were dug up with the roots there was and old and mighty bear that was not a bear who resided within the earth of a forest of ash trees. The bear had taken many childer from those who past through her woods and, once they’d proven themselves, allowed them shelter among the dirt and the dark alongside her. The woods were plentiful with blood and hunts and the bear was very proud of her territory, she was sure that only the best and the blessed of Ennoia should be allowed to run beneath its canopy and provided little guidance to her progeny. She deemed that if they were weak enough to die then so be it, she would not intervene.

The bear however was an avid story teller, and loved to hide lesson in swathes of metaphor and symbolism so that only those with the sharpest minds and instincts could receive her wisdom.

One night she called to her children, told them to sit in the moss and moonlight with her, that she had a tale to tell them. So, eager to please, they flocked to her, and curled around her hulking, blood-warm form, wondering what special occasion had blessed them with her attention.

She spoke like a crack of thunder, sudden, rumbling, all consuming.

“one of your brothers has perished this night-” she rasped, and like a sudden frost the clearing of wriggling bodies slowed to a halt under the weight of her words“-a danger roams our woods children, and we must fell it”

“we shall fell it for you mother” clamored the bears cubs, each desperate for her favor.

“pray you do” warned the bear “for if you do not, it will devour you” the brood shivered, and their fear fueled their eagerness for the hunt.

“tell us mother, what form does it take” they crowed in unison and her smile grew wide, long teeth, the length of a man’s forearm,  glinting with delight.

“it has the hooked claws of the cat to grip its prey, the enduring chase of the wolf to run it down, a song as pretty as the blackbird to lure you into its maw” the bear leaned in close to her brood, they pressed their ears to her lips so that she may whisper to them “and most importantly my children, the flint sharp teeth, for eating you from the inside out.”

With a whimper the childer crumbled into fearful mutterings, the bear, irked by her broods sniveling rose and returned to haven, leaving her childer unsure of what to do.

Now among the crowd there were three Gangrel of note in our tale you would do well to remember: Aife the strongest, Finnobar the swiftest and Baird the youngest. Aife was the first to rise above her brethren to speak.

she climbed a boulder to rise above the rest, hushing her sibling so that she may speak.

“my siblings! surely this beast is of the gaurou to the east!” spoke Aife.  “What other beast that is not wolf or of our blood could have such a skill in the chase!” The kin present, glad to have a direction to go in, murmured their agreement “we shall take our mighty in body and show them our strength!”

And so Aife took a pack of the strongest kindred to travel east where they found their quarry, a lupine pack resting beside the forests river. Aife rallied her party and as one they sprang to attack. As the strongest locked jaws with their leader and the two packs met each other in battle her foe spoke with a voice like tumbling rocks.

“why have you walked into our maw, little beast?”

“you have killed my brother and I shall fight with my strength to make this forest safe from you and gain the favor of our mother” spoke Aife her feet struggling to gain purchase in the river sand, slick with her siblings vitae.

“we did not kill your brother” spoke the unyielding jaws “ but we shall take the lives of your pack”

And so that night, the rest of childer waited with Finnobar and Baird on the river bank eager for news of their sisters victory. When the river ran red with vitae not unlike their own they knew with certainty they had met their end.

The gaggle threatened to fall back into their frightened whispering until another rose from the clamor, fliting to sit up high in the bow of a tree was Finnobar, the swiftest.

“though I am troubled by our sisters defeat, perhaps this is a boon, my blood, for I had suspicions that the mighty Aife was wrong from the start” Finnobar spoke, murmurs rising from the brood, they too had had their doubts. “though the lupines may have the wolfs chase, they lack the black birds song and the cats cloying claws. I say our blight takes the form of the human hunter! For what else hides sharp daggers behind disarming tricks.” Once again a chorus of agreeing voices rose into the night.

And so Finnobar took the remaining kin and they rose on racing wings against the wind to the human settlement to the west. Finnobar, being the nimble beast he was, arrived first, as his brethren were just soaring into view of the corpse of little houses. He slunk slowly around the stone visage of the church and It wasn’t long before he pounced upon a priest who smelled of more than wine and scripture.

“why have you entered our home deamon” he croaked from beneath the swifts claws, with a voice like the rasp of turning pages.

“you have killed my brother and I shall strike you from the heavens like your gods fury to make this forest safe from you and gain the favor of our mother” spoke Finnobar, feeling the mans flesh open beneath his steady pressing, watching the dark shaped of his brethren crest the horizon from the corner of his eye.

“we did not kill your brother” spoke the holy man “ but we shall take the lives of your flock”

As the words left his mouth Finnobar turned his muzzle towards a cutting sound, something flying fast through the air. He only had moments to look on in horror as flaming arrows flew from the arrow slits of the church and struck into the hearts of his just arriving siblings. As he gawked, a furious light shone out from his prey and spread his ashes upon the consecrated ground.

And so that night, as the moon sank Baird sat, alone in the bough of an ash to watch for the returning shapes of his bretherin on the horizon. When the westerly wind blew his face full of foul ashes he knew they had met their end.

Baird, no longer the youngest for he was the only, now saddened and alone finally voiced his own opinion to the trees of his mother’s forest.

“I am young and left abandoned by this hunt for monsters, what have I now but the chance at mothers favor. I am young and weak of blood so I must be strong of mind, I shall start my search where the ashes of my first fallen brother lay”.

And so Baird roamed the territory, looking where he knew kindred liked to linger, and along deer trails ripe for hunting. Eventually he came across some earth saturated with vitae and the greasy dust of final death, but this was not all, among the disintegrated corpse of his brother lay a mighty stag, dead from desperate clawmarks gouged across its front. Its antlers still shone, christened with kin blood and dusted with ashes like the catkins of a willow in spring. Within the beast’s sifted entrails Baird seemed to see some previously hidden truth, and flew into a righteous and utter rage, the first of his unlife.

It was not hard for Baird to find the great bear among her ash trees, for she rarely left her grove except to hunt. He met her unsuspecting human visage with claws and teeth, though to her thick hide the blows were merely that of hailstones falling in a strong wind.

“Insolent child! Why have you thrown yourself into my jaws so? What has made you come to take your death?” she yowled with ancient rage.

 “you have killed my all brothers and sisters, I am the last. It was naught but a stag that felled my reckless,first gone sibling, he was headless in the hunt and met with its frantic antlers but you told your tale and sent us looking for monsters, and so monsters we found ” spoke Baird, spitting the words through the redness of his rage and his steadily growing fangs.

“I did not kill your brothers and sisters!” roared the bear “it was the clawing, chasing, sweet voice of their own pride that lured them to their deaths, for they were not cunning enough to head the moral of my tale”

“No!” cried the last child, barley able to speak in any tongue for much longer “we were arrogant and brash and brazen but it was your own pride that drove your actions, you want us to play your games instead of guiding us, you’d rather be some riddle maker than a teacher”

“Enough you impudent whelp! I see pride has its teeth in you as well, you weaken this line of blood” she roared, raising her mighty claws, as long as tree roots, and well edged as the finest sword. Baird, despite his anger simply gazed into her eyes.

“and because it is in your heart also, that line will run dry here” And she could take in his words his head was sloughing off his shoulders, bursting into ash like a late summer dandelion as it hit the ground.

And with that her progeny went extinct. Her last child, dust, as all things shall be.

To this day we still do not know the name of the Bear,  only that of the brave and reckless childer she neglected and toyed with. It is rumoured however, that the ash forest still grows, even in these nights, unaffected and unafflicted by the dying cries of its brethren, as their roots have been watered and dusted with the old vitae of the bears brood.

[writtingfiction]

The Mermaid’s Sun

pairing: Prompto x Mermay!Reader

genre: fluff

words: 2.1k

summary: you sing an old song, and someone comes to visit you

You laid against a rock as you stared at the horizon, the lovely colours of orange and pink mixing together. It was your favourite spot when the sun would set. Peace would entrance you in your moment despite the human commotion not far from you. However, it was here you learned that lovely song from a young mother. You hummed a couple tunes, trying to remember the old song; it has been a long time since you’ve heard the song being sung.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. The melody was soft as your voice carried the song through the air. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away. You stared at the horizon, eyes growing soft as you continued to sing. The other night dear, as I lay sleeping. I dreamed I held you in my arms, when I awoke dear, I was mistaken. So, I hung my head and cried. You hummed the melody a little longer, a frown placing on your lips. The song was more sorrowful then you remember, but you carried through with the final chorus. You are my only sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.

You heard a yelp behind you, before the splash. You whipped around, maneuvering through the rocks and ocean water to check on who fell. You peeked behind a rock to see a young man with wild styled blonde hair. Dressed black, with an object held high in hand, perhaps saving it from the water. You heard him whine about how wet he was, getting you to giggle. The blonde heard you, his eyes raising from the water to spot you. His eyes widened.

“Were you the one singing…?” He asked, a bit awestruck. You nodded, giving him a wide smile. He gave you an even brighter smile. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you…” You said quietly. The two of you stared at each other for a little longer. Most of your body was hidden behind the rock, so he could only see your head and shoulders. “…Are you alright? I heard you fall.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m OK!” Prompto briefly blushes, words escaping his mouth as he stands to his feet. The passing thought of how bright he was, going through your head. Sparkling eyes, bright blonde hair and bright smile. “I’m… uh, I’m Prompto.”

“Y/N.” You said simply. Eyes staring into him, as he tries to scramble for words. His cheeks flushing brightly against his fair skin. You smile as you ask him a question. “What are you doing all the way over here?” Prompto straightens, quickly remembering his camera in hand, giving it a quick once over before looking at the horizon.

“I was going to take a picture of the horizon. I figured I’d get a better shot from here, since I don’t have the light from the restaurant back lighting the image. But, then it’s still difficult cause then the lights are appearing from the side if I don’t go far enough. However, I don’t want to go too far and get surrounded by deamons—I’m rambling—” Prompto briefly looks at you, embarrassment in his eyes. You shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, you seemed passionate. It would be wrong of me to not support you in your passions even if I know nothing.” You give him your best smile. “Besides, I learn something from it.” Prompto keeps his red shade despite thinking it had gone away. You move away from the rock, coming closer to Prompto the best you can. You rest your arms on the shallow rocks as your tail extends behind you. Prompto’s little gasp is hard to miss even with the waves crashing against the rocks a ways away from the both of you. “Tell me more of this picture thing.”

As much as he would like too, your tail took over his attention. It was a light peach colour, mixed with a light red. Almost as if your tail itself was dipped in the sky as the sun set. He thought you were out for a swim, singing to yourself as you prepared to get back to the beach. He was very wrong. You were a mermaid, a real-life mermaid in front of him. His mind was starting to draw a blank.

“Prompto?” You called for him. Confusion swarmed you, had your tail really been that mesmerizing? You called for him again, and that seemed to work. His eyes went from your tail to your face and back to your tail.

“You’re a mermaid?!” Prompto said in shock. You blinked owlishly.

“Yes?” You responded. Humans have seen you before, you’ve never received a reaction like this before though.

“Can I take your picture?” He blurts out. You only look at him, in which he thinks he crossed a line, but you speak before he can.

“Only if you tell me more of this picture business.” You said. Prompto nods his head violently.

He tells you to look at the edge of the black box he has in his hands, at the lens specifically. You blink as you stare at it, smiling only when you hear Prompto laugh gently. You gently ask him what he finds so funny. You barely heard the whispered words saying that you looked so intimidating despite being half fish. You laugh freely at his words, hearing a snap, once, twice before you looked back up at Prompto.

“Oh, I didn’t look at the camera!” You said, a light frown on your lips.

“It’s ok! Look at the photos I have of you.” He said coming beside you, kneeling down into one knee. You pulled yourself up higher to see these pictures. Prompto had graced you with a short but very informative lesson on a photo was, along what a camera was.

The photos were of you, eyes closed as you basically glow in the fading light of the sun. Laughing loudly from his words, but there was still a peace that seemed to be captured as well. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the photos.

“Could I have a photo?” You ask, hand raising to point on the screen to which one you wanted but he pulls the camera out of your grasp.

“Of course! But you can’t get the camera wet, it’ll damage it and then it won’t work again.” Prompto says, concern on the edge of his voice.

“Oh, sorry.” You say quietly.

“It’s alright! You didn’t know, so don’t worry about it. You wanted a photo, right? Tell me which one it was.” Prompto smiles as he brings the camera back into your view.

You happily tell him which one. The second caught your tail in the light just perfectly. Your skin glowed with the setting light and hit the water just right. A piece of paper starts to eject itself from the camera. You recoil back into the water, surprising Prompto. He gives you a brief look at the printing photo and then back at you. A giggle is on the edge of his tongue as he tries to hold his laughter. However, you notice this.

“Don’t laugh!” you cried out indignantly. Prompto’s laughter escapes him.

“Sorry…! I forgot to tell you, but I can print out photos. Here,” He grabs at the finished photo, holding it towards you. “for you.” He smiled brightly.

You reached out towards the photo carefully. It felt odd, it didn’t feel like the paper you held a long time ago. It didn’t feel like the paper back home either. A bit sticky, but it was soon lost with the salt water touching it.

“Is this mine?” You asked. Eyes still trained on the photo that held your presence.

“Yes. Keep it.” Prompto says firmly. You give him a nod and a soft thank you. Trailing a gentle finger along your figure in the photo. This is a new and unique experience, seeing yourself that had passed moments ago but captured in a time that will never happen again. It held the atmosphere and essence of the time when it was taken.

“This is a beautiful gift, you humans have found.” You say, eyes going from the photo to Prompto. He blushes slightly, and only gives you a nod.

“Y-yeah, I guess so.” Prompto mumbles. You smile gently as you stare back at the photo. He gave you a gift, you couldn’t let him go back without giving him something in return.

“Prompto.” You called out to him, his back straighten as he stared at you wide eyed.

“Yes?”

“I have a gift for you.” Prompto blinks, before he shakes his head.

“Oh no, it’s not necessary to give one back. It’s alright, I’m happy with—” You cut him off.

“I insist, after all, it’s rude not to accept a gift.” You say cheekily. Prompto can only sigh.

“Ok, what is your gift?” He asks. You hold out your hand that wasn’t holding the photo.

“Give me your hand.” Your hand is flat, finger curling to coax him to put his hand in yours. You can see the hesitance in eyes. You knew that you kin had a reputation, but you needed him to trust you. Your fingers curled once again. Finally, he gently places in hand in yours. You gently press you thumb onto the back of his hand, but you can’t feel him. Even with the holes in his glove, it doesn’t feel right. “Can you take off you glove? My gift won’t work otherwise.”

“Huh, oh, sure.” It takes some effort he takes the glove off and places his hand back in your hand. You hum pleased.

With the glove off you can feel him. The picked-up pace of his heart, the hiding insecurity, the pain and worry he has. It’s almost too much to feel all at once, but you push through. You have a gift bestow upon, not pick him apart. You once again place your thumb against the back of his hand as your fingers press into his palm. You hum gently, words soon escaping your lips.

“You are my only sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Your voice carries through the waves and wind that crash against the rocks. It’s soft yet firm as an insignia starts to form on the back of his hand. “I'll always love you and make you happy, if you will only say the same. But if you leave me to love another, you'll regret it all someday.” Prompto can feel the ease of the insignia relax his entire body. Any tension he had was now gone, despite the words having a heavier meaning. He had never really paid attention to the song before, but now that he was listening to it. It was so sad, bitter almost. “You are my only sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away…” And as your voice fades, so does the brightness of the insignia that’s now fully formed on the back of his hand. You smile widely at your own work as you pull away slowly, giving him his hand back.

“What does it mean?” Prompto stares at the dull insignia, which looked to be a trident. It looked familiar, maybe he’s seen the symbol before.

“When you’re haunted by terrible dreams, or you’re overwhelmed; hum to yourself. Doesn’t matter the song, just as long as you hum to yourself you shall be fine.” You lock eyes with him, his eyes the colour of the seafoam that you see daily. “And if, I sing the song I sang to you. The insignia shall shine and give you feelings of ease.”

Prompto could not help but stare in awe. All this for a simple picture he gave you. He felt blessed. Grateful was just one of the feelings he had for you. He had more, his mind was trying to catch up. He had to tell you these feelings.

“Thank you—”

“Prompto! Where did you go?!” A far off voice cried out. His head turned back towards the docks. He cries out he’ll be right there before turning back to face you, but you’re gone. For half a second, he thinks it was his imagination, but the light shine of the trident symbol on his hand says otherwise. He swiftly pulls his glove back on before regrouping with the others, he never did get that shot of the horizon.

[sassyscientia]

An Aera Mirus Fleuret and Ardyn Lucis Caelum angsty scenario (a thought)

A scenario that popped into my mind a month ago: Aera survived the clash between the two brothers but she realized, during the slow and painful recovery, that the Gods turned their back to her.

She has been stripped of her role as an Oracle because she revealed divine choices to Somnus, because she tried to protect the Adagium.

This last thing ruined her even at the eyes of the people, nobles in particular.

They accused her to know about Ardyn’s demonic infection, she would let a deamon sits the throne just because he was her fiancé. A woman whose judgement is clouded by love cannot be a pious guide for the people.

In all this she has to deal with the loss of Ardyn, mourning him, victim of a fate that could not be changed. She tried to save him, and now he was dead.

Things were awful, but guess what?

They got worse.

Attempting to reabilitate Aera’s name the Fleuret family promised her to Somnus. After all she’s still part of a noble and rich household, one of her relatives is the new Oracle now...

Marrying Somnus to become queen and wipe away all the gossips and malignity sounded like a good plan. For them at least.

But for the party directly involved?

Aera nearly had a breakdown: she preferred to die rather than marry the man who betrayed both her and Ardyn. She refused, going in a screaming match with half of her family.

For Somnus wasn’t an ideal situation either.

What he has done that day was neccesary. Ardyn could not rule infected as he was, nor he could save the majority of his people. Still, he was his brother, a brother he loved and respected. He was jealous of him, yes, but seeing him on a bloodied floor with a sword in his chest didn’t bring Somnus any happiness.

He brought away everything from his brother... Taking Aera crossed a line Somnus wasn’t sure he wanted to cross. She was Ardyn’s spouse, he loved her more than life. In his mind, a wedding with Aera would have been kinda of... incestuous? He felt it that way.

These sentiments were soon overthrown by others more selfish and bitter: he was king, not a beggar who gathers someone’s leftovers. He didn’t want to be a sloppy second collecting what his brother has left behind (the guilt was still there, even because he hurted her. How could they made this work? It’s an announced disaster).

Personally I think Somnus wouldn’t be bothered to marry someone he doesn’t love. He is a man who cherished duty and responsability, love it’s just a thing that can be pleasant at his eyes but cannot be a distraction or, worse, an influence on important matters. Men in his position hadn’t such luxury, if a marriage is useful in terms of political leverage so be it.

The fact Aera didn’t love him (and he didn’t love her) wasn’t the first thing that came up in his mind. Ardyn was the reason of his reluctance.

Eventually, thanks to the court’s machinations, Somnus and Aera got married. That day Somnus was extremly cold (to hide his uneasiness and guilt) and Aera refused to look at him the whole function, thinking about how Somnus deprived both her and Ardyn even of this little joy. After they are pronounced man and wife Somnus asked her not too gently to kneel. Aera felt a pang of pure hatred, because Somnus wanted her to recognize his right as a king in front of everybody (since she was tied by Ardyn’s name and loyalty in being his finacée). In reality, Somnus wanted to clear her name publicly with a dimostration. He didn’t want to humiliate her, just make it sure nobody could bother her because of a connection to Ardyn. Being queen without suspects, with a recognized authority.

Maybe it was more for him than her, but it had the same effects.

Eventually Aera bent the knee and Somnus crowned her.

I don’t have precise thoughts about their married life: surely they would avoid each other since the first night. Somnus would bid her goodnight and left her in her room and he returns to his chambers. Aera would probably wreck into crying once Somnus leaves.

Aera would probably loath him to dead in the beginning: avoiding him in any way, being cold and curt in answering him when they have to stay together in public. I think in private she would refuse every attempt to hold a conversation or, sometimes, she would be so passive agressive Somnus loses all the will to talk further. When he has thought about it as an announced distaster he was right.

He would not justify his actions to Aera, because he knew she wouldn’t listen or belive him. She was caught in her own resentment, and he had no time for that. He had a reign, people who needed his guidance. If she wanted to help him okay, if not the same. Not everyone can live in the past.

All of Aera’s provocations would have fallen into a void, Somnus would never  have answered to them. He gave her space, he rarely saw her outside the meetings of the council or during official events. Aera was fine with it.

She tried to fit her new role, discovering difficulties and backstabber along the way, but surprisingly she was good at it. She became more cagey and secretive, difficult to read but still benevolent. Beign able to help others in such a different way slowly awakened her from the numbness.

However with Somnus things weren’t easy. The fact they had to generate an heir filled Aera with dread. Probably Somnus would have had lovers at this point, but he needed a child from his queen to ensure a lineage. The thought of sleeping with Somnus revolted her, it would probably takes a couple of years for her to accept. Somnus wouldn’t force her.

I firmly belive that even if they grown to respect and care for each other they’ll never develope romantic feelings. For both of them Ardyn will forever be a persistent regret with different motivations: Aera loses the love of her life, unable to stop his destiny, Somnus betrayed him and he stole the woman his brother wanted to marry, lying to her about the fact Ardyn was still alive in Angelgard. Aera suspected it, and it was confirmed by Gentiana that only the Chosen King will release him from the curse.

Aera was pregnant when she received this response, now knowing that her children, grandchildren and descendants will have live a life of sufference, slaves of the Gods and the ring of the Lucii until one day the line will end in the blood because of Ardyn.

Ardyn whose pain will continue long after her death.

I think Aera would survived not only Somnus, but even their children. Unable to suffer other losses, she would retire after the coronation of her grandchildren and died of old age.

Fast Forward in the future

After being freed Ardyn discovered, thanks to Verstael, that Aera survived to marry Somnus and becoming queen. The current royal line of Lucis their descendants.

I think ‘devastated’ would still be a weak word to describe Ardyn after the big revealing. The thought of Aera forgetting him to run into his brother’s arms hurts him beyond every comprehension. In the beginning he would probably convinced himslef that Aera has been forced in some way, that she was  forever unhappy after he was chained away.

She had to be unhappy, he couldn’t even think she smiled or laughed again.

It was all Somnus’s fault, HE was the monster, HE forced her... Aera has done nothing wrong... she didn’t know I was suffering... she didn’t know I was locked in the darkness.

During his allucinations he would saw his brother doing awful things to her, and part of him was horrified in finding relief in the convinction that Aera was nothing but miserable with Somnus.

Despite Verstael showed him evidences that after a rocky start the two lived peacefully and in some way happy, Ardyn turned a blind eye to facts until his meeting with Bahamut in Insomnia.

Then he realized how much he has fooled himself: these two traitors plotted behind his back, Aera knew about him and do nothing. They both take the throne and cast him aside.

I imagined the wheat filed scene going similar to the end of Episode Ardyn: he sees them under the tree, talking. Somnus smiling and touching the head of the newborn in Aera’s arms. She is beaming, a dress too colorful and rich for an Oracle, her hair much longer and pinned gracefully on the head. Ardyn approaches, smirking.

They both fall under his eyes. Under Aera the baby starts to cry. Ardyn moves her with his boot, staring at the bundle and its red little face. The screaming are annoying.

“You are innocent, nay?”

The baby won’t stop weeping.

Ardyn raises his foot. “ I’ll tell you something.”

Black miasma oozes from his pores. “ No one in this world is.”

He stomps the foot down with all his force.

Writing things at 3.00 Am it’s not good for me. I’ll probably fix this tomorrow, but now... bed. Sorry it’s messy...

[di-elle]

Discussing Daemons aka the nasty side of Adow fandom.

We’re approaching peak hiatus, with a new influx of fans coming as the show will air on AMC and BBC America. Basically we’re approaching the lower point of this curve...

Scary, uh? There are not ship wars yet? but there is a particular little group of nasty people you should all be aware of - and stay away from as much as you can. I’m talking about the 3 5 years old petty  ladies running the @daemonsdomain  and demons discuss podcast. And yes, I’m tagging them, because, unlike them, I don’t go talking about people behind their back and since I also asked them to stop harassing people both on discord and twitter, and like any other bullies, they cowardly didn’t answered me, I had to write this public post, so everyone will be warned.

Those who had followed me since the Outlander days, know I don’t have problem to call out crazy fandom people, and man, that fandom had enough, but I’ve never seen the level of nastiness and acrimony that has recently come to my attention, and it’s all in the A Discovery of Witches fandom.

the TL:DR of this is STAY AWAY FROM THE ALL SOUL FACEBOOK DISCUSSION BOOK, whatever little new info Deb would share there, is not worth being harassed, threatened, bullied, cyber stalked, and finally doxed but these 3 vile persons.

stay also away of their podcast, and don’t engage with them on twitter media:

DaemonsDomain - DaemonsDiscuss and their personal twitter accounts:

https://twitter.com/testarossasmom ( Jean: the one doing the threatening and the head bully)

https://twitter.com/ValMonst3r  and https://twitter.com/apocalipstixnow (her 2 bully minions Val and Angela)

if you want to know more, settle down, this is going to be long but necessary.

A Little bit of Background

These 3 women run for years the Richard Armitage 4 Matthew Clairmont campaign, and the thing went so on their head they are now convinced they helped Deborah Harkness to get the studio deal. After that campaign ended they started the Deamon Discuss podcast. Meanwhile, they were been kicked out of the All Souls Discussion Group [the one Deborah Harkness moderate/maintains] for fighting with fellow fans and being bullies. And two of them were mods!

Anyway, apparently they got back in Deb good grace, as she got them back in, but not allowed to be mods anymore. But they are still harassing and bullying and fighting fans. because you know, once a bully...

But what they do, you would ask?

As side activity to their main podcast, they run a “aftershow” podcast (*) opened only to their patrons whose main purpose is to shit on everyone they dislike including :

- devoted a whole podscast to dox a member of the facebook group (that they got eventually kicked out by their mods friends) giving away the name, the social media presence and the location, only because said person had a few disagreement with them. Not only they had this person kicked out, they are now harassing and stalking on social media and other platform like the Adow Discord Group, to the point this person had to delete the accounts. and they are still cyberstalking this person as we speak.

if this is not enough:

- insult new fans and “only show fans”, for not being intelligent enough and not willing to learn about alchemy or history or genetics, [ unlike them, the ORIGINAL FANS ™ - yes, they call themselves that]. all this because the new fans dare to ask already asked questions and drool after Matthew Goode. MAJOR SINS!

- bodyshaming and fatshaming some of the (male) actors of the show, only to then go lick said fatshamed actor’s fiancee ass on twitter.

- in this particular podcast that came to me, they are joined by one of the mods of the group, renee, and proceed to mock and insult a member’s physical appearance and sex life because the post she made was “dumb”

- threatening fans that they could be sued for saying when the actor said they’d be filming (in DM, of course, or Deb would be aware of this) or generally speculating about season 2. there are multiple account of this happening. as I said, nuts!

- insult and mock the under 30s fandom people because they are young and don’t get their superior and only allowed way of having fun

- calling other adow podcast "grifters" and "thieves"

- generally going against the All Souls Discussion Group rule by talking about the discussions happening there and being either mocking, coming up with awful nicknames, and straight up being awful, vile and nasty, like high school mean girls.

- I’m also told their general attitude in the All Souls Discussion Group - which I’m not part of -  is to make feel people unwelcome, mothering Deborah Harkness, shutting down any perceived criticism (i.e. anything that doesn’t coincide with their pov) and any discussion about the books.

- this is for the Outlander fandom: they despite you all, and they despite Diana Gabaldon for daring to not like the book

- harass and mock people leaving anything rather than 5 stars reviews of the books of both Amazon and Goodreads.

- basically appointed themselves as the only True Fans and the Gatekeepers of the fandom.

so, as I said, stay away from the All Soul Discussion Group, is not worth being harassed and bullied by these awful horrid petty jealous persons.

[as always, my ask is open for questions]

(*) I had to listen to a couple of those mp3, and I have them stored, but trust me, you don’t want to waste your time with these 3 vile spiteful women.

ETA: added the right twitter handler for one of the minions

[just-4-xmas-today]

This is my second part of my POTO Christmas submission, @cuddlepossum did an amazing job helping me write this one shot. Please read and then watch video (I promise it doesn’t go past like pg/pg-13). This one is for you E/R fans out there.  Wedding Planner

Raoul smiled up at Erik, the man’s face flushed a deep red from the wine they’d been drinking.  Raising his glass to his thin scarred lips, Erik took a long sip and pulled Raoul closer, which was a bit of a struggle given with the voluminous skirts on the dress he was wearing.

“You look gorgeous, love” The Vicomte slurred drunkenly.

Erik laughed, a high, tinny sound.  “I look like I decided to wear half of la Carlotta’s wardrobe all at once.”

“Isn’t that what all high fashion gowns look like?”

Erik conceded that point, he had decided to buy the ugliest dress he could find after all, simply because it made him laugh. And Raoul, whose bright happy eyes he simply could not get enough of in that drunken moment...

This whole mess started with the announcement of Christine and Phillipe’s wedding and the subsequent requests that Erik be a groomsman and Raoul the best man, which meant they had to talk to the wedding planner and help get things together.

Before they had started courting Raoul and Erik had thought each other a snob.  This  planner that Christine chose, blew them out of the water.

They wanted to make Christine happy, of course, they were thrilled to see she had found the love she deserved. this woman! The wedding planner was half-mad with how she always tried to improve upon Christine’s wishes, her veil could not be the usual lace, it must be hand woven and littered with little pearls like water droplets.  A lovely idea but not practical.  The cake that Christine wanted to be three tiers?  A young bride doesn’t know what she wants, the cake must be five tiers and made using hand ground vanilla with a hint of rum for a richer flavor. And not just any rum, Erik reflected moodily. But his own personal rum he had gotten overseas at an astounding vintage to boot.

By the time they had gotten down to the dress and everyone else's outfits, Raoul and Erik were both plotting the Wedding Planner’s murder.

The only saving grace of the whole venture was that the men got to try on several nice suits, which quickly devolved into them standing on the chairs in the dressing rooms to steal kisses between increasingly ridiculous suits.

“Raoul, love, look what I’ve found” Erik would whisper before making a flashy appearance by bursting through the changing room doors in a hideous mustard yellow suit with gold trim, matching tophat with peacock feathers tucked into the ribbon, and the teal shoes that came with them, also sporting two rather large peacock feathers on the heels.

Raoul doubled over with silent laughter as the wedding planner glared.

The wedding planner was using Raoul as a model for wedding dresses since, despite his hairy chest, thick legs, and broad muscular shoulders, he had similar chest and waist measurements to Christine. This of course was done so Christine would only see the finished and perfect product. Erik had almost pissed himself laughing when they first heard of this task, delivered to them by this snob of a woman, spoken in a tone that suggested they were going to war. 

“Erik, Erik look, I think I’ll wear this at our wedding!”  Raoul stepped out of his own dressing room in a flowing gown with what must have been seven skirts, and the sleeves!  Sheer fabric of some off-white yellow color that didn’t match the dress at all.

“Raoul, my darling, my dear, if you wear that to our wedding I will divorce you on the spot.” Erik teased.

The wedding planner glared him down, “It’s a lovely dress, perfectly in fashion, the model is the issue!” she hissed.

“Would you rather I model instead?  I’m a good deal smaller than Christine but I’ve got far less. . .fur, than my companion.”

“All right fine, but be quick!  Here’s the next dress.”  She held up the gaudy number and Erik turned his nose up at it.

“Christine would never wear that, no decent human being should ever wear that.  Hell, 

 won’t wear that”

Raoul gasped softly, raising a hand to his mouth, fanning himself as if he would swoon from the bit of drama.

“Christine picked it out specifically!  I don’t know why she bothers with you goons!”  Removing the hanger from the dress, she launched it at Erik’s dressing room and the man huffed angrily.

Erik grumbled in annoyance as he slipped into the deep blue dress with black trim, and even put on the white gloves with black dots. When he stepped out he folded his arms over his chest.  “I highly doubt that she would pick this dress madame.  She hates high collars, especially tight and feathered ones, and if anything she should be wearing the simple white gown of a virgin.  It would show off her beauty and elegance, letting her be beautiful without getting outshone by the gown or distracting too much from her equally handsome groom.  Learn your clients madame.”

Raoul had never actually seen someone change colors so fast.  Going from white to red to purple with rage before finally returning to her normal color and throwing down her book of notes.  Erik seemed genuinely shocked that she had actually stormed out on them.

“Erik?”

“Yes Raoul?”

“How are we going to tell Christine?”

“We won’t, we’ll find an entirely new opera house to live under, change our names, and assume new identities.  Then we will find a new Christine to be friends with and tell her I accidentally killed your brother in an underground lake so that she doesn’t try to marry him again.”

“Or, and hear me out on this, we could try and catch the planner, bring her back and apologize while praying that she’ll agree to plan again.”

“No, that’s too ridiculous it won’t work, besides she’s probably caught a carriage by now.”

Raoul sighed and picked up the notebook, flipping through a few pages  “It looks like the took extensive notes and had some designs Christine drew for the dress she 

 wanted.  I have good news, it’s not that blue mess you’re wearing. . . It looks familiar too.”

The Vicomte smiled when he realized where he’d seen it before, “Erik. . .”

“It’s the dress I made her. . .all this time and she’s remembered it.”

“She has good taste. . .It’s a shame though, I was hoping you’d marry me in that dress.”

Erik snorted with laughter, “I’ll design one just for you then love, but later.”

Erik had heard many unpleasant sounds in his life. However none of them could compare to the sound of a bride, who was also an opera prima Donna, who had just lost their wedding planner three weeks before said wedding. Erik jumped like a cat and kid directly behind Raoul as Christine sounded more like a Swedish deamon cursing them both to Hell. 

Raoul sighed. He loved Erik. He did. And while Erik would never, EVER, admit to this, raoul was the braver of the two. Which meant he stood straight back and raised his hands (thanking God he realized he was gay before they had gotten married, good lord), "Christine… look she wasn't that good anyways… here-erik the notes?"

Erik squeaked and quickly handed over the journal before quickly hiding behind Raoul, as if afraid his hand would be taken off with it. Christine looked through "What am I looking for?" She snapped. 

"Th-the wedding dress! She wanted you in this god awful dress- high necked and terribly uncomfortable." Erik said shakily, not moving from behind his boyfriend. 

She found the page and, after a few minutes, breathed in deeply. "Fine. Fine!" She yelled, tossing the book on the sofa behind her. Then she rounded on the two. "You two. I now have no dress and no planner three weeks before my marriage. And it IS your fault. She may have been a bit…. Picky-" 

"Picky!?" They both interrupted. 

"Yes. Picky. BUT. She was still my planner. And since I don't have one… you two will have to step in." 

Erik relaxed at that. That punishment sounded far easier than what he initially thought. He stepped forward and said confidently "oh that'll be easy. I bet we can do a far better job than that monster. Consider it all- uh- planned."

That was the last calm moment either Erik or Raoul would have for the next three weeks. 

The first week, they discovered the flowers chosen, happened to be flowers Phillipe was deathly allergic to. The next choice of flowers were not in season and only a few were in stock. The third had an infection… 

By the end of it, Christine was screaming and throwing the flower book out of a window before storming off and sobbing. After an intense brainstorming meeting with Raoul, (which had many insults to any idea they slightly rejected, as both were already at their wits end) Erik literally had to create a new flower out of paper and paint. It looked beautiful though and he presented these to Christine. 

She loved them. Which meant every night for the next week he had to stay up all hours making the damn things. Never in his life had he had so many paper cuts and never had he prayed so much to burn every last bit of paper in Paris. 

The week after that Raoul helped pick out locations, of which none were good enough. Finally he had to tackle the archbishop for Notre Dame and promise to find Notre Dame a restoration for the next three years in order to satisfy Christine's wishes. 

Erik and Raoul drank themselves to drank that night, not one hint of judgement from either broken man. 

The last week had involved a cake fiasco of the likes Erik had never seen. Christine wanted a Christmas wedding- part of the reason it was so expensive to get the location they were planning. And so had requested a stunning Christmas cake from the best bakers in Paris. 

It was three days before the wedding. Erik's little home under the Opera was a wreck. Raoul was surrounded by paper work as he researched who should sit next to whom- a task that apparently needed to examine ancestry as apparently there were odd rivalries in his own family. Erik watched, cradling coffee, an article titled: Proper Ways to Fold a Napkin and other Important Wedding tips. 

And then. The knock. Dread filled the house at the sound. Erik wished it was a Raven but no. It was brown haired Meg. Here to deliver the worst news Erik could imagine three days before the wedding. 

The baker had the flu. 

There would be no Christmas cake. 

Upon hearing the news Erik collapsed on the floor, beating it with his fist, declaring war on God himself (again). 

It took two hours to calm the shambled man down. Then Raoul had the worst idea but the only idea… 

They'd have to make the cake themselves. 

It was to be a vanilla cake, with snow white frosting. Blueberries pounded and mixed to make light blue frosting as well to illastraight little ice sickles. And on top of that, a Yule log, filled with chocolate and frosting. Phillipe and Christine's toppers were even hand made so they'd sit together on the log. Perfect for a Christmas wedding

The only problem was, Raoul was deathly allergic to milk- an essential ingredient- and Erik couldn't taste anything. 

It had been easier to build for a sadistic Sultana, Erik concluded. Raoul stayed far from the kitchen  as he worked. Last thing they needed was for Raoul to go into shock from accidentally consuming even the smallest bit of milk. So Erik was alone in this terrifying endeavor. He oh so carefully mixed the batter according to exact measurements. Terrified of getting a single thing wrong as he'd have no way of knowing. 

And then when it came time to decorate he was shaking like a madman. One missed step and his life would be over. His hands oh so carefully painted the icing on, the hall clock chiming three in the morning… 

The wedding was that afternoon. Erik had almost forgotten it was Christmas as Raoul and he shaved, got dressed, and trudged to help the 'happy' bride to be. 

And mercifully things went without a hitch. Soon Erik found himself next to Raoul at an alter. Both were looking around with near tired disgust as there eyes settled on any little thing that could possibly need repair- and therefore come directly out of their wallet. They nearly missed the two saying 'I do' as all they could think about was the pain this Christmas had caused them. 

The reception also went well (minus one small fight between relatives that. Christine mercifully did not see). Erik held his breath as they tried the cake and by God a Christmas miracle occurred. 

The cake was acceptable. 

The rest seemed to pass in a delirious haze and soon enough they wished the happy couple on to their honeymoon in Venice. Not long after guests trickled out as well. Soon Erik and Raoul were the only ones left in ballroom they'd rented for the occasion. 

Well more specifically they were not wanting to think about having to clean all of that up just yet. Over the past three weeks they had not had any time for one another. So they took this Christmas Eve opportunity to snuggle by the wood burning stove- a perfect makeshift fireplace. 

They were drinking a bottle left over from the wedding and giggling like mad as they made fun of the outfits guests had worn became- a favourite pass-time for the two. 

Soon it devolved into giggles and sloppy kisses in front of the fire. They'd been too exhausted to do anything but sleep these past few weeks of hell, and even then sleep was seldom. This was partially due to being up late planning and partially due to wedding nightmares such as the dress getting a speck of dirt on it, or the archbishop coughing at the wrong part. 

But now, free from stress, they cuddled and started to make up for lost intimacies… however just as Raoul was putting his hand under Erik's vest, a cling got their attention. 

Raoul looked down and curiously picked up a golden band. Erik blushed seeing it and took it, giggling. "Well… shit…. Not how I planned that… I'd honestly completely forgotten. I was planning on asking this after the wedding, as a little Christmas gift but… Raoul?" He looked at the man who was straddling him, blue eyes warm in the fire from the stove. 

"I know we can't… I we can't legally marry. But… I thought maybe a small metaphorical ceremony is just as good? Originally I was planning to ask you in an extravagant way and a big flashy ordeal but after this week…. Want to just have a small informal thing in our night wear?" 

It was the oddest proposal ever and Raoul couldn't help but laugh as he pulled a ring from his own pocket. "Took the words right out of my mouth…"

They both laughed and, in their drunken joy and passion, forgot to slip the rings on, leaving them in a nearby table to be picked up in an hour or three… 

After all. They had a lot to celebrate that Christmas, kept warm by only a wood burning stove, and each other. Married or not, big wedding or small, fireplace or wood burning stove, they would always one another. 

(And some pretty gold rings to match- after all they did LIKE shiny things they could wear). 

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

This is one of the two ends for the End of Eos series. Each ending has a different viewpoint and either can be your cannon! Please enjoy the conclusion of the series.

Lux Finem 

You held your rapier in hand, your body covered with a white dress, you always figured that the only white dress you would wear would be the wedding dress that Lunafreya provided you for your upcoming nuptials. Still, it made you nervous, the plan was thrown together in under a few days, even with those on the inside, Ravus, and Araena, as well as Ignis, even Lunafreya and Clara all working together it still had a chance of failing.

Ardyn was a rather wild card and with your altercation on the beach, you already knew that you only saw a fraction of his power. It also left that Noctis had yet to make a convent with all the gods, you were only going on this with a wing and a prayer.

Plus Lunafreya was offering to make the first convent on Noctis behalf with a goddess who hated humans, not as much as Ilfrit did but Leviathan was pretty high up there and was rumored to have a horrible temper. Yet your sister would not go it alone, you were there to make certain that all of you would come out alive.

“The Empire will attack, they will see the opening.” Ignis stated, “It was already determined that they would kill Lunafreya given the chance.”

“Even more of a reason to have me out there,” Ravus replied.

“No, we need you with Ignis.” Lunafreya offered to her elder brother. “Besides Y/N is going with me.”

You smiled to the woman beside you taking her hand, “Araena, stated that they’d be coming from the sky, there’s no way that they’ll be able to tell the difference between two women dressed in white running around from that distance. We divide and confuse them, take them  out that way.”

“What of the convent?” Clara inquired.

“Either of us can do it.” You explained. “Preferably Luna, this way I can provide coverage for her, and Amor will cover from a vista point elsewhere as a sniper, and everyone else stays within the crowd.”

You would much prefer for the crowd to not be there, but it would be hard to request a mass evacuation without a panic, plus the local government was already upset that they maybe come a battlefield by hosting both the Oracle and the missing Prince. The only thing that could be offered was to keep the crowd as far away as possible, by stating that it was uncertain how large Leviathan was, which wasn’t a complete lie as you had personally still yet to see a god in person.

Still for everything to go this horrible in such a short amount of time. The empire attacked Leviathan, causing the goddess to go on a rampage! Lunafreya kept attempting to reason with the Goddess, almost resulting in the both of you being drowned multiple times from the goddess, while Noctis had summoned Titan to try an subdue her. Only for you to be greeted by a red blur and the familiar pull of a warp. Shrieking as you were tossed to the ground.

“Oracle Lunafreya, we finally meet.” Ardyn chuckled, as you stumbled to your feet. “Your little friend Y/N did a good job of hiding you from me in Altissa.”

You moved to stand, letting out a groan, did he really have to throw you? You figured that with the two of you wearing making dresses and covering your faces with veils the empire would not be able to tell the difference.  How silly men are, you and Lunafreya didn’t have the same body type and you stood slightly taller than your sister.

“Sorry, Luna’s not here. Maybe you'd like to speak to me instead.” You called, tapping into the remnants of the King’s magic within your body. Transforming you into that armor they provided you in your first fight with the man, the pull not so bad this time.

“It seems we meet again.” Ardyn chuckled, as you stood the power of the King’s still running through you, as you wheezed softly, from almost being drowned by Leviathan’s tantrum and summoning the power, luckily this time you weren’t drawing it from the ring so it wasn’t taxing you as much. “You’ve really pulled the wool over my eyes the last we met.”

You stood up, finally catching your breath, your rapier held tightly in your hand. “Sorry, it's like you said we’ve both have very different plans.”

“Do you wish to fight again?”

You looked to your rapier in hand, before tossing it before you to land between the two of you, the blade stuck in the rubble. “No.”

Ardyn raised an eyebrow to this, “Beg pardon.”

“I’m not going to fight you, the gods remade me to fight you.” You stated. “I’m not doing that, I’m sick of following their orders.”

Ardyn chuckled loudly at this, “Is that so?”

You stared the elder man down, “Please answer me this Ardyn, do you want to rest right?”

The man gave you a stare.

“I can help you, we want to help you. Lunafreya, Noctis, myself. You're not alone anymore.”

“What do you know about being alone?” He hissed.

You shook your head, “Nothing, I know nothing of the years that you spent alone, cursed by the same gift that the gods gave you to protect what you needed. I asked for that power too.”

The man erupted with an Ameriger around him of red, his eyes turning an inky black, as he removed his hat, placing it on a decommissioned MT unit beside him. He stepped forward a sneer on his face when you didn’t back down, but instead squared your shoulder to the man taller to you.

“You can barely protect yourself, from the deamons before you now.”

You blinked up to the man, reaching out a hand “Because Somnus spoke so highly of you, he told me time and time again how he was so angered because he could not help you. The one that needed him most.” You rose your hand to cup the man’s cheek, only to flinch as he quickly grabbed your wrist, the Ameriger spinning around you faster, every so often you’d feel something slash against your skin, nothing to cause damage but to have you back down which you refused to do.

You didn’t flinch as he growled angrily, his face inches from your own, or as the circle of the Ameriger grew smaller. You didn’t bat an eye as you watched a face more demonic than anything from your nightmares or that you’ve seen in the darkness moved closer. What drew you from the man was the shrill shriek of Leviathan as Titan slammed her into a building.

Ardyn turned as well as you both heard the crash, only to feel you grabbed a hold of his jacket, shoving him away from yourself before tossing yourself out of the way of falling building pieces.

You stood, hair and attire blowing around the multiple storms brought up by the gods fighting. You squinted seeing Lunafreya rushing around the battlefield to something black. Noctis! You moved to go after the two, only to halt as Ardyn appeared before you.

“I don’t believe we were done talking.” Ardyn chuckled, the black still coming from his face. Despite speaking so calmly in a raging typhoon, you still heard him.

Still you screamed above the howling wind and rushing waters hoping he could hear you, “I wish that we were stronger and didn’t have to rely on the gods to protect what we love! I wish that everything was better, that you didn’t have to suffer alone! You lost everything, you witness everyone you love die, but look, you bought that same fate on Noctis! Your own flesh and blood! You’re allowing Noctis to suffer the exact same fate you had suffered! Would you wish that on him! Would you wish that on your own brother!”

You shrieked, feeling the man backhand you throwing you to the ground.

“What do you know, child?” He hissed

You grunted pulling yourself up, “I wish the gods were good and understood our lives! I wish that we could have met before all of this, before this war, before they used you! Before they abandoned you and marked you as Accursed.” Your eyes turned as you gasped seeing Lunafreya attempting to protect Noctis from the still rampaging goddess, she wouldn’t be able to get a barrier up fast enough, you knew she was weakened by not only summoning Leviathan but also trying to survive the goddess’s multiple drowning attempts. “We can blame this on fortune some kind of twist in a star! You’re angry, you have every right to be, hell I would be too, but what you’re doing right now is not right. You know that!”

“You speak as if you know a lot, Princess.” He growled a dagger appearing in his hand.

You smiled pushing yourself to your feet, “I know that every person I have met with the name Lucis Calem is someone that I love dearly. I wish you could understand that.”

Ardyn watched with dark eyes as you stumbled to your feet, moving over to your rapier. Turning your eyes to the man. “You wish for a lot of things Princess.”

You bend down picking up your rapier as you turned to the man offering your free hand, “I wished you come with me.”

You weren’t certain of how long you offered your hand to the man, only to gasp as the ground beneath your feet shook.  You turned to Noctis and Lunafreya, sparing a glance back to Ardyn and without a second though tossed your rapier towards Noctis and Lunafreya, warping after it, just in time to push Lunafreya to the ground, and cover the both of them with your body as a pillar shot overhead, along with another wave from Leviathan.

“Sorry, I’m late. I lost connection.” You smiled crawling off the two of them, taking Lunafreya’s hand.

“Glad you could make it.” Lunafreya laughed, as you both surrounded Noctis, pulling up a barrier.  

The two of you watched repeatedly as water crash against the barrier time and time again, noticing that your barrier was getting smaller, as the two of you curled closer together over Noctis’s unconscious body. You turned hearing Lunafreya wheeze, not now! You refused to lose either of them, you turned to the woman, linking her hand with Noctis, touching the man’s chest.

You screamed above the howling wind, “Brace yourself!”

“For wha...”

The blonde woman was unable to finish as you summon one of Noctis’s swords, before tossing it out the barrier to a safe distance forcing a warp from your Prince, happy that it worked. You stumbled from the barrier going back into the fray if Leviathan kept rampaging, she’d destroy the city and everyone in it. You pressed against your ear to the talkie.

“Anyone there?”

“Yes.”  Ignis called back.

“I warped Noctis and Luna to the west pier, get to them, Leviathan is gonna take this place down if she’s not stopped.”

A scratch and you heard Amor, “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Your signal dropped, you must have been too far out of range or the carriers that were still bombing the gods were scrambling your connection. You had to get them to stop enraging Leviathan, you gasped as a large wave splashed over you causing you to lose your footing if you hadn’t stabbed your rapier into the ground. Coughs wrecked your body as the water rescinded.

“Levi...Leviathan!” You screamed. “Stop! Please!”

You wheezed harder trying to get a hold of the goddess.

“You won’t be able to do anything about her, you’ll need to stop the carrier.”

You turned, only to smile at the redhead man approaching you.

“I recall you knowing how to warp, get to Leviathan. I’ll handle the carrier.”

You smiled with a nod as the both of you tossed your weapons following after them, you landing on the top of a building not yet destroyed by the gods battle. “Titan! Leviathan! Please! Stop! It’s done!” You heard a crash, before seeing a red light bouncing between four of the five carriers in the sky. “Leviathan! Please!”

With bombs and weapons no longer falling around the battlefield Titan managed to subdue the angered goddess long enough for you to ask again in a days time to assist Noctis. The goddess begrudgingly agreed before diving back into the depths, you spared a smile to Titan as his summons was undone, turning as you heard something land on the roof.  You giggled as you saw Ardyn standing there, his weapon disappearing within his armeriger as he approached you.

“Have you gotten everything you wished for, Princess?”

You reached out your hand a smile on your face, “I wish you’d com...”

You heard the pop and your body jolt and the magic of your transformed attire disappear as you stood in the decoy white dress, a large red spot appearing on the front, you looked to Ardyn before you before your legs gave out underneath you, your world dark before you hit the ground.

*

“Where is she?” Clara growled, pacing as best she could, she had injured her leg, shoving Ignis and Ravus out the way. She, Ignis and Ravus found Noctis and Lunafreya not long after your message went out, but even after Leviathan and Titan disappeared you had yet to return.

“She has to still be around her, don’t give up hope,” Ignis replied, as everyone turned from one of the temples that hadn’t been destroyed. Luck would have it Leviathan only managed to destroy the summoning area and a few buildings around her, most of the city was left unharmed.

Noctis and Lunafreya managed to come to around the time that Prompto brought Amor back, the woman had suffered a broken arm from her harness snagging and having to cut herself out to avoid being hit by debris from Leviathan, and a fallen carrier.

Gladiolus and Lucet appeared having gone out searching for you, returning when they found nothing to the north. The entire group was worse for the wear, but at least everyone was breathing.  The group agreeing on trying again in the east when they stopped seeing a figure coming down the walkway, only for weapons to be summoned immediately as the figured became Ardyn.

“What is it you want…” Ravus stopped as everyone noticed that the man was covered in blood, but what was worse was that your body was in his arms.

You held no tension, a large blossom of red against the stark white dress you wore. Your head lulled away from the group, arms hanging uselessly. Appearing a limp doll within the Accused's arms.

“What did you do to her!” Clara barked, only stopped by Ignis grabbing a hold of her arm.

Ardyn stepped forward, none flinching at the weapons aimed at him, his eyes locked with Noctis and Lunafreya. He moved forward again, now knowing that none of them would strike with your body in his arms. He moved before Noctis, you still held within his arms.

“She’s a stubborn one, absolutely refused to give up on me,” Ardyn replied rather low his eyes hidden behind the shadow and brim of his hat. “It’s been quite some time since I healed.”

“She’s still…” Lunafreya gasped, rushing over to you unafraid of the man holding you. She took your head within her hand. It was very faint but you were breathing if barely. “Please put her down.”

Ardyn placed you down on a large slab, stepping back as he allowed Noctis forward by your side.

“What happened?” Ravus hissed, still untrusting of the man beside him, Prompto and Amor’s guns trained on the redhead man, along with his own sword.

Ardyn did not turn his eyes from you,“They shot her while her back was turned.”

“Who?”

Ardyn sneered, “It doesn’t matter now, they’re gone.”

Lunafreya begun to shake, her healing wasn’t doing enough, you weren’t getting better if anything it was worse. Not even with the combination of Ignis and Clara giving you CPR.

“Here.” Amor called, reaching into her hair plucking a feather. “It’s a Phoenix Down, it’s old but it should still work.”

Everyone watched as the glow surrounded you, but you still didn’t stir, they all had to watch as you gave one final exhale. Lunafreya placed her face within her hands, as she began to sob. Gladiolus took Lucet close as the woman sobbed heavily, the man holding her tightly as he turned her away from your body, his own tears falling silently. Ignis gathered a wailing Clara close, allowing her to cry in his shoulder.  Prompto followed Amor to the ground allowing the woman to cling tightly to him as they both cried. Ardyn adjusted his hat to further shield his eyes. Ravus stepped forward placing a hand to Lunafreya’s shoulder as the woman turned hugging her brother tightly.

“She can’t be gone, after everything we did.” Lunafreya cried, as Ravus stroked her back. “She promised we’d come back together.”

Noctis stepped forward kneeling beside your body, taking your hand within his own, as he leaned forward pressing his lips to your own. “I love you so much.”

As sobs echoed the pillars ghostly blues begun to surround them, slowly taking the forms of the Kings of Lucii. Come to mourn the fallen princess of Lucis. The Father and The Mystic stepped forward, Somnus stopping near his brother, while Regis moved beside his weeping son, his armor disappearing as he rested his hand on his sons that clung tightly to his bride.

“I promised to protect her.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a gasping breath as you began to cough wildly, before panting hard. Tired eyes opening as you looked to your love above you, “Noct?”

Noctis quickly gathered you in his arms, hugging you tightly. “I thought I lost you.”

You smiled before noticing the others surrounding you, after being filled in and a little extra healing from Lunafreya, you stumbled from your perch, moving to stand before the two brothers this all started with. Your hand held out to the man, labeled the Immortal Accursed. “You asked me if I got all I wished for, I’d wish you’d come with us.”

Ardyn adjusted his hat, with a chuckle, “You wish for a lot of things, Young Queen.”

You smiled brightly, as he removed his hat, taking your hand and knelt, pressing his forehead to your knuckles.

“Should you wish to have this Immortal Accursed by your side I shall have to grant that wish, now won’t I.”

*

The sea sounded absolutely beautiful outside your bridal suite room, only for you to hiss as Clara pulled a little too hard on your hair.

“Sorry, sorry,” Clara called. “You just have so many knots.”

“I’m still picking concrete out mine,” Lucet muttered, nuzzling into Pyrna who hadn’t left the woman’s arms since the woman found the dog, Lunafreya stated it would stop the dog from getting into trouble.

“Did you know that Chocobos can’t be at the wedding site, Clara? Prompto tried ordering one for you, Y/n.” Amor replied, helping slip your shoes on.

“How strange,” Clara muttered.

“We never did return that Chocobo.” Lunafreya stated.

You froze, “Crap.”

This only caused the two of you to start to giggle.

The last forty-eight hours were a strange blur, Lunafreya summoned Leviathan to form the convent with Noctis. Who still needed to get the rest of the arms, and with Ardyn assisting in finding the arms it actually went rather smoothly, and the boys returned home last night. There was still the manner of getting the crystal and returning it home, but Ardyn had stated that would be simple enough, and that Noctis shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer.

You both were finally getting the happy ending you wanted.

“Princess, we’ve got trouble,” Aranea called stepping from the balcony, having not wanted to put on a dress, but at least allowed Iris to put a bow on her armor, and a matching one for her dragoon lance.

“What’s wrong?” You asked only able to turn your eyes to the woman as Clara was still working on your hair.

“Did Prompto find Chocobos?” Clara called slight panic in her voice.

Aranea stared in confusion at the question before shaking her head, “These aren’t Chocobos, but I think you’d prefer if they were.” The woman replied, waving everyone out to the balcony.

As all of you crowded on the balcony, you watched as an official Neilhielm armor squad arrived on the scene. Your eyes turned to the others, watching as weapons were drawn, before noticing that Noctis and the boys had stepped outside.

“Hate to put a damper on your wedding day.” Iedolas growled, flanked by quite a few MT units. “We can not overlook…”

You jumped from the balcony, your attire transforming to your Lucian armor as you stood beside your husband to be who was still in his casual clothes, lucky. You may have also ignored Clara yelling at you for being reckless.

“The bride to be, we heard you were indisposed,” The old man hissed with a pause, “happy to see that was false information.”

You sneered to the man, all you wanted was a beautiful wedding day and this old asshole man was ruining it! You did not cross all of Eos, nearly get drowned by a god, get shot and brought back to life to have these men stop you from marrying Noctis!

“Leave now!” You barked, causing the men beside you to jump in fear, having never heard you so angry. “You are not welcomed here, creature.”

“You have no rule here.” The old man hissed stepping forward only for Noctis to move before you, having yet to draw a sword. “Prince Noctis, it seems that your…”

You stopped listening to the man, your eyes scanning the area around before you called loudly. “Gladio!”

“I see him!” The tall man brought up his shield just in time to block a sniper bullet, the same time Ignis, Prompto and Ravus drew their weapons as the MT units before you rose their weapons to attack as well.

“Amor!” You called, only to smile as you saw a man fall from a nearby building, followed by three more snipers you hadn’t seen, from surrounding rooftops.

“Attacking on neutral ground, a further act of treason.” Ravus hissed.

“High Commander, or as I should say former High Commander you’ve helped the enemy. You are of no concern here.”

Ravus moved before you, standing beside Noctis,“The only enemy here is you.”

You turned harsh eyes back to the man before you, “I watched you order the death of King Regis, under a false treaty, what do you know of honor?”

“Silence girl!”

“The only thing that you are upset about is that King Regis seen through your foolish plan.” You went to draw your rapier, only to feel a hand on your shoulder. “Now you feel that you can speak,”

“A bride should have nothing to worry about on her wedding day aside from her own joy. Allow me, my dear.” Ardyn called, stepping before you, Noctis and Ravus. “Shall we have a word, Emperor?”

“Are you sure?” Noctis inquired.

Ardyn chuckled adjusting his hat, “All you need to worry about dear Noct is your beautiful bride having a beautiful wedding. I’ll be certain to return by the time she walks down the aisle.”

You all watched as the man left with a very frighten Emperor having no choice but to follow him, only to wonder what exactly it was that Ardyn would do to the man.

*

As you sat alone in your bridal suite you smiled softly reflecting on your entire journey, of meeting Noctis and falling in love. Finding a sister in Lunafreya. Assisting a man labeled cursed, tears sprang to your eyes as you looked at your reflection of you within your wedding dress.

To the mass gathering to view the wedding it was just that a lot of expensive fabric, that was woven together with no gather meaning but to be a subject of headlines.

To you it was more, a trophy of all you had been able to live through. To new starts and the end of a so much hatred and evil. To love that made you excited for each sunrise that would appear each day going forward.

“Are you excited?”

You turned, looking to the little friend the often followed you around the Citadel and Noctis apartment, reaching forward as you scratched at the little white chin, “Of course I am Carbuncle.” You giggled to the little fox beside your bouquet of flowers. “It’s my wedding day.”

“I’m invited?”

You gasped kneeling to look him in the eye before scooping him up, “Of course you are! After all you know both the Bride and the Groom. I wouldn’t dream of not having you there.” You smiled as he nuzzled you with a cheep before jumping from your arms.

As you picked up your bouquet of Syelleblossom, you turned only to smile brightly as you saw the black armor of Regis awaiting you. As you rushed forward, the armor dissolved showing the man how you viewed him in life, perhaps a bit younger, your arms going around his shoulders as you hugged him tightly.

“Dad.” You cooed, feeling the cold touch of his body, but that had become comforting at this point.

“You look so beautiful.” Regis smiled, as he released you, pressing that familiar kiss to your forehead before adjusting your veil to hide your face from all that wasn’t your soon to be husband. “I do not wish to keep your husband waiting.”

You felt tears start to fall from your eyes as he offered you his arm.

“They say when a bride cries on her wedding day its means the wedding is blessed by the gods themselves,” Regis replied, as he led you to the outdoor rebuilt area.

You tried to stop yourself from running down the alley where Noctis was waiting for you. You glanced around, taking in everything around you. It was a straight walkway, appearing to be floating on the water itself, to were Noctis and Lunafreya waited before you tall columns rising out of the water. Glancing to the high balconies and terrace to your friends, giggling at the red-headed man that did indeed make it to see you down the alley.

Only to gasp at the 12 figures that also appeared beside the one labeled Accursed to view your wedding, you felt so overwhelmed so much love from those around you. You unwrapped a hand from your bouquet reaching out to Noctis, only to find that even unspoken he knew what to do. As he rushed towards you taking the hand that reached for him.

You both had come this far separately, it would be wonderful to start this journey down the aisle as two separate beings and to leave it as husband and wife with one life blended together. After all, the two of you had been written in the stars as belonging to each other.

“You both make me so proud.”

Noctis gasped since linked with you, he saw the figure that helped you this far. “Dad.”

“Walk tall my Son and Daughter.” Regis smiled, releasing your arm as he went to join the other kings awaiting for your union.

A perfect day, as the King was wedded by one of his dearest friends, to a woman that made the night sky appear so dull compared to her. Book, stories, and tales would be passed down for years to come but no one would ever forget the look of joy on the two lovers face as the Oracle pronounced them husband and wife for the first time.

~

You gave a soft sigh of joy as you held onto the railing on the top of the Regalia Sea, the new royal vestal, as you saw the view of Altissa appear on the horizon.

“There you are.”

You smiled as you knelt down in your traveling dress hugging tightly the little girl that held the same features as her father as well as her elder brother that looked like your husband when he was younger. Those Lucian eyes and beautiful hair always held true, but people often stated that those eyes held the gentleness of the night sky like their Mother.

Getting a kiss from them, as you scooped up your toddler daughter, before turning to your husband, receiving a kiss from him as well as your eldest pressed against your side clinging to your skirts, his free hand holding onto his Father’s hand.

“You always get so excited when you see Altissa.” Noctis chuckled.

“Of course, a lot of wonderful things happened for us on Altissa.” You replied, placing your hand to your son’s back as he pointed out a huge fish that was almost appeared to be escorting you to the shores

“Auntie Lulu.” Your daughter, Regina cooed.

“Mom is Uncle Ardyn there too?” Your eldest, a son, Oriens inquired, as he moved to hold your hand that rested on his back.

“Yep, he’s been working with Auntie Luna and Uncle Ravus in getting Tarabene back together.” You smiled brightly, as your son stared at your bracelet, he was always fascinated by the gold band of yours.

“Oriens, why don’t you take Regina and help Ignis radio in.” Noctis offered

“Come on Reggy, Mom and Dad are gonna be gross.” Oriens called reaching up taking his younger sister in his arms, before heading back below deck where Ignis and the others were.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You sniffled, as your husband pulled you close, brushing the tears from your cheeks.

“Maybe I wanted me time.” Noctis chuckled, following your gaze to the ever growing closer city, still of peaceful land but a meeting place of two royal families.

As you docked, exiting the boat to find Ardyn awaiting you all on shore.

“I was starting to worry.” Ardyn chuckled tipping that familiar hat.

“Uncle Ardyn.” Oriens cheered, as he and Regina raced up to him, wrapping arms full of fabric and their uncle’s legs in an embrace.

Ardyn chuckled as he scooped up them embraced them both tightly, “You couldn’t have missed an old man like me that much.”

“You’re not that old Uncle Ardyn.” Orien laughed, as Regina snagged the hat, placing it on her head with a coo.

Ardyn chuckled as you and Noctis stepped forward, “Safe travels, I presume.”

“Your nephews wished to stop and fish every five minutes.” You smiled.

“Allow the King his pleasure, my Dear Queen.” Ardyn chuckled as he motioned toward a caravan, “Unfortunately Lunafreya and Ravus were unable to escape the meeting, yet should be finished by the time we get there. They also sent us this caravan due to Lucet’s condition, despite ensuring she would jog the entire way if we allowed.” He stated greeting the others with a nod, “I don’t believe you two will have anything to worry about, you’ll have an army of Shields to protect you.” He laughed, placing Oriens and Regina within the car.

Aside from your own two, Gladiolus and Lucet already had a set of triplets boys and were currently expecting twins girl in a few months time. While Prompto and Amor had adopted a young one of their own. Ignis and Clara had opted out of children, insisting that Oriens and Regina, the young Argentum and the Amicitia garden were more than enough, besides they had already raised the both of you.

As the group of you all arrived at the hall, you couldn’t contain your smile as you saw the form of the Oracle, looking so much like the picture of her mother that she had shown you, flanked by her brother. Even from this distance, you could see the huge smile on her face as the car came into view.

The car was barely parked before you were rushing up the stairs and she coming down as you both embraced tightly, only to break apart to giggle excitedly to one another.

“You would think they haven’t seen each other in years.” Clara giggled, assisting Regina up the stairs.

“My Dear, you have to give it to them, it has been 26 days this time.” Ignis chuckled, following Noctis and Oriens.

“I think it’s adorable.” Amor smiled, watching Clara straighten out Regina’s travel dress, to meet her Auntie Luna and Uncle Ravus.

“Yeah, I still don’t understand why Cor decides to stay home all the time with the kids.” Prompto laughed, “He’s always talking about how he’s too old to deal with royal meetings.”

“There you are.” Lunafreya giggled kneeling to press kisses to Oriens and Regina cheeks and getting big hugs, only to have Regina reach for Ravus immediately afterward a common occurrence with the young one who took a liking to the man.

“How are you, Young Princess?” Ravus chuckled taking her hand pressing a kiss to her knuckles which got him a huge coo.

“Uncle Ravus will you have time to spar?” Oriens inquired getting a hug

“If you don’t mind teaching an old man new tricks.”

Lunafreya giggled. “You know who’s been waiting to see you.”

“Umbre! Pry!” Regina squealed as Ravus sat her down, as two dogs greeted the children.

“Ravus, how is your wife and little one?” You smiled, taking his hands within your own.

“On bedrest for the time being. We’re expecting soon.” Ravus replied.

“If they are up for visitors I would like to visit.”

“I’m certain they’ll enjoy that.”

“You all must be tired, and we should get Lucet off her feet,” Lunafreya called taking Oriens hand.

“This is heaven compared to the boys.” Lucet giggled, as Gladiolus helped her up the stairs, leave it to the big guy to fret over his battle axe of a spouse.

“You won't be saying that later when you swell, come on.” He chuckled.

You followed your friends and family up the stairs, only to stop and turned, looking to the area that years ago became the final stand, you were so frightened of losing everything and now to find that it all became full circle. Gasping as you felt a hand to your shoulder, only to notice the ringed hand of your husband.

“We’ve been through a lot haven’t we?” Noctis replied.

You nodded softly, “It's so funny now, but at the time I was so scared that I would lose everything here, but this is where everything came together for us.”

Noctis chuckled, pulling you closer to his side, “You did the hard part, all I did was swing around a sword and run around in nature.”

You wrapped your arm around him, hugging him tightly, “I have to say, we’re a pretty good team.”

Noctis pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I think so too.”

“Noctis, Y/N are you coming?”

Noctis chuckled holding out his hand to you, as you saw a flash of your husband when you were both younger, that same smile on his face, “Come with me?”

You smiled brightly, placing your hand within his own, pressing into his side as you linked your fingers a huge smile to your face. So long as either of you reached a hand to one another you knew that it would not be long for it to find its missing half.

“My Noctis, To the end of Eos.”

[cressiweek]

CressiWeek2k17 Fic Collection

Thanks to all the people who shared their stories with us. Here we are presenting the list of all the fics written during CressiWeek2k17:

Day 1: Firsts by MADR1D1SMO 

Summary:  Leo goes through the text slowly. He can recognise some of the pictures - the famous photo of them standing together in their countries’ colours before the international in Switzerland, the ones from the Ballon d’Or Gala.There are a lot of firsts. It doesn’t have the most important firsts, though, he thinks.

First Things First by prompt_fills 

The first words you say to your soulmate… You know how it goes. Everybody knows.So why doesn’t Cristiano have Leo’s words when Leo ended up with his?10+7 scenes of 100 words.

A Minute in Your Presence is Better than a Present by kkslover9 for detodores (chasingnukes)

Leo enrolls at LaLiga Music Academy to pursue his dream of being a pop music composer. Composers- and idols-to-be attend class together and work on making their dreams come true. Leo's roommate and classmate is one Cristiano, a strange yet charismatic idol-in-training. Can music bring them together?Or the Uta☆Pri style AU that no one expected.

Sweethearts: Alfajores by keep_it_fresh

Non-canon. AU-ish. Tween-fic. Middle School (12/13). It takes a team for Lio to not only realize he has a crush but also snag to his guy. 

How to win a Clásico by Jang_Hanae

There was one reason why Clásicos were among the most viewed football matches in Europe. A really simple one. Quality. Although many spectators may have added « on-pitch fights » to the list, Cristiano decided not to acknowledge them. To him, it was the time to really compare progresses, to decide who was the papi here.Believe it or not, he had prepared for his date with Lionel Messi the same way he prepared for Clásicos.

Everybody Will Remember His Name by yulin for MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)

Leo wasn’t sure if it was the sweet or what he was seeing, but his mouth was watering. 

Day 2: Identity by MADR1D1SMO

After taking a hard blow to the head during a game against Espanyol, Leo wakes up with amnesia. The person who helps him remember is the least one anybody could expect it to be. 

All I Want Is All I Need by prompt_fills

Five gifts Leo gets from “a secret admirer” and the one gift he already has. 

Sweethearts: Milk Bones by keep_it_fresh

Non-canon/AU-ish. Cris wakes up to find an unexpected visitor trapped in his backyard. 

What's Mine Is Yours by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever) for yulin 

Cris feels himself getting sick immediately.He’s always needed to be aware of his body and his health, and the second he feels different, he knows. He starts getting congested, starts having trouble breathing, and his throat begins to feel like it's on fire. It's annoying, to say the least, and he knows it's because he went out hunting in the rain. At the time it had been necessary, and they’d needed the food. He’d not thought twice about setting off despite the weather, not when he’d heard Leo’s stomach grumbling.And it had been worth it to see Leo’s grateful smile.However brief it may have been.

Stained Glass by Messi10_Neymar11

The year is late 2015. As the footballing community prepare for a new season and as the Ballon d’Or Ceremony approaches, Gerard starts a story time after practices with the Barça squad about their history with the club and Leo remembers some things a bit more clearly than he should. 

He should stop by yulin

Losing was not his habit. 

A hunter's duty (isn't to love you) by Jang_Hanae

The hunter finishes his dish, wiping his great finger on a linen tissue, and points in the direction of the beautiful stranger. The young man doesn’t look at him, probably still mortified at the idea of having been caught twice. Shy ones have always been Cristiano’s favorites.Marcelo keeps looking for him, while Ronaldo is already undressing the man in his head. His pale body under his tanned hands is going to look even purer. He can’t wait to see the red marks he’s going to print on his neck. Is he going to whimper ?

I Won’t Bite (Unless That’s What You Like) by kkslover9

"Leo licks his lips. He wants it so badly, to sink his fangs into Cristiano’s neck and drink from him and Cristiano knows it." 

Day 3: Other Worlds by MADR1D1SMO

There’s a world where Cris plays for Madrid and Leo for Barça, the one we all know and love. There’s also another world, where CR7 and D10S are the deadliest duo in football history playing for the best club in the world. What happens if one day, the two of them switch places? 

Home Is Freedom by prompt_fills

The Deaemon!AUSometimes it’s not the humans who make the first move.All humans have deamons but no one has ever seen Cristiano’s daemon. Leo isn’t so quick to jump to conclusions because his own deamon is currently missing.

I Like You More Than I Hate You by prompt_fills

Something is highly suspicious about it but Cristiano can’t deny the obvious facts. Leo has been cursed to fall in love with him.

Wait a Minute by prompt_fills

Leo is stuck in a time loop and Cristiano has no idea. 

Let Me Drive You Down the Love Street by kkslover9

Cristiano is as surprised as anyone when he ends up on the same team as Lionel Messi. It's not the challenge he's used to but he's ready for it, to take Major League Soccer by storm with a new team and a new partnership. 

You Look Like There’s Nothing That You Won’t Do by kkslover9

Leo has a play session with his Sir, Cristiano. 

Within Reach by prompt_fills

Cristiano gathers Leo in his arms, waiting until his shoulders relax and his back presses into Cristiano’s chest. This is how he likes Leo best, secure and controlled. 

Only The Best Touches This Body by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever) for prompt_fills, kkslover9, Guessmysoul, MADR1D1SMO, yulin, Jang_Hanae, Messi10_Neymar11, keep_it_fresh, mrsmessi, detodores (chasingnukes)

"Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?" Cristiano asks after dinner. And when Leo hesitates, finger slowly circling the rim of his wine glass, Cristiano's smile softens. "Just a drink," he clarifies, "if you want. But I'm not ready for tonight to end yet, and I thought you might feel the same."The truth is, Leo does feel the same.

The Essentials by prompt_fills

The things that matter the most aren’t always the ones Leo would expect. 

My Edits for CressiWeek2k17 by Guessmysoul

Hello! I will be posting here the edits I did for CressiWeek, so the people who don't have a tumblr can see them too! :) 

Don't fall in love with a superhero by Guessmysoul

Cristiano Ronaldo, a handsome, intelligent and a charismatic young man could have any man he pleased; except, his attention was consume by a little shy boy with a surprising intelligence, and Spider-Man his saviour in moments of distress. Why did he had to fell for both and not being corresponded? 

Leo With Kids; or Five Times Cris Didn't Know Where Leo Was & One Time He Did byhpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever) for yulin, stillgold

Cristiano is amused, clapping his friend on the arm before turning to survey the VIP area. He starts to do a loop around the room, smiling as he spots his mother and Ricky, followed by James and Neymar with their heads close together, and then a few of the other Barcelona contingent. As he comes across each new group, he stops for a chat, enjoying that everyone seems to be having a good time.But after he gets back to Jorge, he realizes that he never once saw Messi.And he even looked behind some of the plants.Just to be thorough.

You can find the colelction post in AO3:

Cressi Week 2k17 (cressiweek2k17)  by detodores (chasingnukes), Guessmysoul, yulin

Cressi Week is a fan week celebrating the Football RPF ship between Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi, two greatest players to ever live. Takes place 1st October - 7th October 2017. 7/10 is also the unofficial Cressi Day!

[ofetro-blog]

Crystmas had passed, yet the fake white tree had still been covered in decorations. Bad luck had not been something that came to mind when the rosette refused to take the holiday decorations down. It had simple been tradition to take the festive decor down at the start of the new year besides the infant seemed to admire the twinkling lights. How could a week longer of having them up hurt?

The house was quiet, not a sound to be made. The last day of the year had seemed to start off peacefully. Just the rosette sitting besides the small infant who held the exact features as her mother playing with the decorations upon the artificial tree. No plans to join anyone else in the gathering of friends and family at Galdin Quay for a New Years eve party they held every year. 

A snap from a camera caused the former savior to turn her attention towards the man behind it. Blonde hair and piercing blue eyes now starred upon the two as the camera was placed away from his face. A soft smile curled upon tiers admiring the two for a moment longer before the woman spoke up to interrupt the silence.

❝ Prompto, I thought you left this morning. ❞

Taking a seat upon the couch not to far from the two rosettes the gunslinger shook his head at her comment. He could not simple just leave the former Glaive during the holidays. He had promised his best friend to always look after Claire and he was more than sure he’d want him to look after his daughter despite not knowing about her. Sleeping on the couch had been something Prompto and the gang had been accustom to by now, the guys did their best to make sure to always be in Lestallum even when Claire pushed them away. They knew the former Glaive had PTSD and despite not wanting help they had to be close for both her and the heir of Lucis.

❝ I woke up late. ❞

He lied.

If he left like he had said he would, she would of been alone on the eve before the new year. It had become his job to take it one step at a time to drag both of the Farron’s out to the party to bring in the new year with people who loved both of them. Claire smiled shaking her head, even she knew his words where a lie and yet she ignored it. 

❝ Okay. When are you heading out? ❞

The screws in his head started to turn, he promised Gladiolus and Ignis he’d bring her out of the house. It had been dangerous to leave the city yet now that Lestallum had sent power to some of the major places it had been safe to travel at least for a while. Long enough to celebrate the year and forget about fighting the deamons for the night.

❝ When ever you are ready. ❞

Claire could only scoff at his words. He knew very well the last thing she wanted to do was leave the house especially with a infant. A baby only a few months old traveling when light no longer touched the world and daemons lurked in the darkness.

❝ We are not leaving the house let alone Lestallum. ❞

He could only roll his eyes with a smile shaking her head several times. Clearly he had a few things up his nonexistent sleeves to get her out of the house despite her declaration of not attending the party. Allowing the Glaive to continue through out the day, Prompto gathered every thing he needed along with things for the child who he considered a niece. 

Starring at the mirror hung against the wall, extremities ran through blonde strands of hair spiked up. Watching Claire pass him by in the reflection, the Little Lucis Caelum no longer in their presents giving her a moment to relax. Despite leaving the room once more Prompto spoke up to the woman who seemed to not be able to sit still for even a moment.

❝ You’ve spent all day cleaning a house that wasn’t dirty in the first place. Elena has been feed, changed, bathed and is now napping. ❞

He knew that much as he had helped with the small baby through out the day and now that it had been six o’clock it meant the day had nearly been over. Anyone who was having a party was about to start it. He could only heard her growl and the reply ‘no’ out loud from the other room before he had even had a chance to utter his question. 

Turning to the small picture frame of Claire and the young king Noctis sitting upon a counter top, Prompto sighed once more. Shaking his head ‘Oh Noct, you had to pick a stubborn one didn’t you?’ his thoughts crossed his mind as if the King had been lost for ever. He knew one day he’d rise again to ride the world of he darkness yet he always found himself talking to him as if he had died.

He had an idea, one that would clearly get him in so much trouble with the woman. Adjusting his t-shirt and the bandanna on his arm Prompto marched his why quietly into the nursery. Smiling down at the sleeping child he carefully picked her up while she slumbered and placed her inside the car seat already prepared. A soft fuss came from her and instantly Prompto froze as he shushed her. 

The fussing continued for a moment longer causing him to react almost instantly by grabbing the pacifier and putting it inside the child’s mouth. She became quiet and he continued buckling the little one up. As the last buckle clicked he placed a blanket around her little person and lifted it up.

❝ Come on little one. We are getting your mommy out of the house to go have some fun. ❞

He sung the diaper back over his shoulder, the pink clashing horrible with his outfit yet allowing his camera to stand out. He wasn’t going to leave to a party without it especially when it was Elena’s first new years. He had to capture all the moments Noctis missed so he could see them when he came back. Whistling nonchalantly he quietly left the room and towards the front door.

❝ Come on Claire, Elena and I are leaving. ❞

All he could hear was a loud ‘what’ clearly irritated with his words. He had up and taken her child out of the house when clearly she had not been ready for that. Slipping on her shoes, he had been lucky she had gotten ready for the day as she ran after him. Following him had not been difficult in the slightest it was figuring out where the hell he had been going that was hard. Finally as he stopped so had she only to see the courtyard of The Leville Hotel had been all decorated for the party.

❝ W-what...is this...? ❞

Prompto stood besides his friends Ignis, Gladiolus, Iris and the rest of the gang. Elena had still sleeping in her car seat in Prompto’s hand. Everyone smiled welcoming the ex soldier. The whole party moved to Lestallum so she’d feel safer out with Elena and would enjoy the last day of the year with everyone who had meant anything to her.

Ignis smiled adjusting the glasses sliding off his nose. Despite no longer being able to see he managed to make his way around and he knew the look on her face was worth all their hard work. Cooking with Iris, decortating the courtyard and gathering people who had all been in different parts of the world, her sister Serah included.

❝ We could not let you celebrate the New Year alone. So we moved the party and invited everyone who is here for you Claire. We know how hard this is on you but we just want you to know you have us. Let’s bring in the New Year together. ❞

Claire covered her mouth with both hands, crystals swelling up with tears. It might have been the hormones from having a baby or the fact all the fear the struck in from leaving the house had suddenly disappeared. Shaking her head she attempted to shake off the feelings with a soft smile rising upon her lips.

❝ Thanks guys, this means the world to me. ❞

[enby-prompto]

What Good is a Camera if You’re Stuck in a Dungeon?

In which Prompto is stuck in Steyliff Groves secret dungeon recalling his career as photographer:

Prompto loved weddings. Not that he would admit it to anyone, let alone his best friend. And, it wasn’t as if he was the one photographing them either. He had been assisting a wedding photographer all over Insomnia for two and a half years before Noctis’ engagement to Luna had been announced. Of course, he had been shooting on his own too, but his work was pretty far off from being commercial material. So when the news broke, he could remember holding his breath in wait to see if his best bud would pull through with the opening. Noctis hadn’t even skipped a beat before asking Prompto if he wanted to snap a few shots before the wedding, and maybe at, and of course he said yes and tried contain his excitement.

There was just something about capturing a singular moment in people’s lives that they would look back on from that point. It was like stopping time.

 He couldn’t remember whose idea this was, although in that moment it would do him little good. He raggedly dodged the incoming blast that would have otherwise left him stone, as his comrades did the same.

 “Prompto!”

He could hear Noctis bark from across the room, before warping away as one of the two Psychomancers they were facing reached toward him with their bony hands. The blond cursed faintly under his breath, bouncing his way back closer to the action and pretending that he wasn’t trying to adjust his camera settings when he was supposed to be loading a gun. Their last battle against several flan type creatures left him and his gear more than a little sticky, and he had been trying to clean out the buttons since. Quickly, if not reluctantly, Prompto set his camera down and summoned his gun. In one movement, he cocked it with the correct round.

“Let me brighten your day!” he shouted his usual warning call for a flare, firing in a high arc that illuminated the room. The deamons recoiled, if only momentarily.

“Thanks!” Noctis called out, taking the distraction to run over to heal Ignis after a particularly heavy blow that left him limping toward the wall. After a glance, the blond ran back for his camera. As soon as the camera was within reach, a gust of wind hit him and knocked him forward,  accompanied by the violent thud of Gladio’s shield beside him, and Prompto realized the taller man had blocked him from a massive sideswipe of a dashing Pyschomancer.

“Prompto, WAKE UP,” The shield shouted to the gunner, who responded with nothing more than a feeble grunt in reply as he regained balance. The camera had clattered into the middle of the room, just to be kicked further across the room by a pole vaulting Ignis. Just as the light from his Star Shell faded, he could tell the lens cap had popped off.

This was tiring and Prompto was beginning to hate it.

 Of course, he was never the biggest fan of dungeons, but this one really took the cake. After being given some weird old keys by a pushy old lady in rocking chair back at Meldacio HQ, they had been crawling their way through some of the toughest dungeons the gunner had ever experienced. They had been mucking around in a good amount of caves around all of Lucis before having to return to Steyliff Grove. After kicking around The Vesperpool and finishing up some hunts for the duration of the a day, they waited in the plentiful ancient temple knee deep swamp water until dusk.

 Prompto had always been in awe of the beauty and terror of its tall empty main hall, pool of water flowing overhead as naturally as anything. If they had more time, he would have asked Noctis to stop for some photos. The way the moon and sunlight cascaded through the water and reflected shards of light around the room was unlike anything else he had witnessed on their travels so far, and he had just started to get used to the Astrals. When they resurfaced, he would definitely ask.

After opening up the heavy vault-like door, covered in runes not unlike those at camp, they descended into what wasn’t a cave like the others had been, but a massive hall with high ceilings and the occasional deamon. At first it was going pretty well, he was event having fun, despite the creepy feeling that grew up slowly every single of his vertebrae every time they dealt with deamons or MTs.  

They even set up camp within the dungeons walls in what seemed like record time for once. Gladio pitched the tent with what was almost battle-ready glee. Ignis cooked a delicious meal, and they told a few jokes around the fire and it was all almost enough to forget that they had embarked into the depths of a terrifying death maze. They set off again the next morning (or so they thought, it was hard to tell) in bright spirits. They fought several more rooms of foes, and just narrowly escaped a grim fate when both Ignis and Noctis were brought to their knees at once by a group of Ronins and he and Gladio had to pick up the slack. Not that it slowed them down. They reached the second campsite all  too soon, and had no worries hunkering down on the eerily cold stone floor yet again. The next morning, like before, they set out as they had previously. Upon reaching the next room, they stopped short. Noctis recoiled, “Ugh, that’s gross.” It smelled like a really nice creme brulee gone sour, and the look of intense distaste on the chamberlin’s face upon his descent of the stairs was not lost on Prompto. Gladio tried to wave it off while trying to stick his head into the room. Some sort of possessed pudding slimed about, making the floor both slick and sticky.  It seemed to be their “just desserts”, as Ignis had put it, to which Noctis scoffed before warping headlong into the room.

When the prince’s warp landed, the deamon’s form melted, and Noctis found himself covered in the splattering of its retreating form. “Ugh!”, and Ignis was by his side, summoning a dagger in one hand while holding out a towel for the younger man, who swiftly took it and warped away to wipe off. With a shout, Gladio distracted the lot of them as he smashed his shield into another. The fight wasn’t tough, in an of itself, but more tedious as the deamons seemed impenetrable to brute force. While Gladio was distracting them, Ignis and Noctis pulled spells and tried not to get slimed.  Just as they were down to two left, one got Ignis right in the face, coating his pristine frames in gunk. Prompto let out a sharp laugh, catching Noctis attention. “Nice look, Specks,” the prince called before warping over to back up Gladio’s offensive. Ignis, dignified as ever, went to remove his glasses. “No wait, I have to catch this!” Prompto raised his camera up to his face when- you guessed it, the same monster resurfaced and bashed the blonde upside the head, gushing coating half of his camera and head in a thick layer of goo, before sinking down into the floor once more.

“NO!” Prompto crumpled to his knees, frantically wiping it down, while a resigned Ignis sighed and proceeded to clean his glasses.

 That had been six rooms ago. All of them full of those creepy creme brulees. The four of them had been on the verge of death multiple times in a row now despite it all, and Noctis had all but quit casting spells, reverting to using a sleek set of daggers Prompto didn’t quite remember him getting and running around in circles to dodge while Ignis kept throwing ice around the room. They were efficient, but without the same zest they had had coming in. The blond was getting tired of slipping and getting frosty gunk in his camera and gun, and his hair, but it wasn’t as if his teammates fared much better.

 Which lead us to the Psychomancers in the room now.

“Prompto, WAKE UP.”

“Sorry!” He feebly called, in hot pursuit of his camera, spotting it some ways away from the action by the opposite wall.

So far, Psychomancers had to be the thing Prompto liked least in this hell hole. He had already seen one take down the prince momentarily, causing Ignis, Gladio, and himself to collectively panic before they could catch a glimpse of the Phoenix Down Noctis had in hand. While the battle raged on around him, Prompto dove across the room, lens cap be damned, rolling around the camera,  cradling it in arm just as another beam shot across the room in an attempt to immobilize him. It caught Ignis, and he moved to fall from the force of the blast, but was caught by the spell, leaving him in an awkward backward lean. The gunner could hear Noctis sigh loudly, or breathing hard, it was getting harder to tell.

Gladio let out a guttural roar and sideswiped the two Pyschomancers hard enough to knock them both over. Without stopping, he went to town on the two squirming messes of wrong. Prompto gave his camera a once over, inspecting the lens. It was not cracked, which was as about as much as he could hope for. Summoning his pistol, he fired a round of shots at the pair of deamons, trying to will every bullet with hate so this could be over faster. “Prompto, get Iggy!” Noctis called in his direction, before exploding out in a burst of blue light that signaled his summoning the Royal Arms.

Prompto doubletaked. He was missing all of the good shots! He raised his camera up, finding it still on, and trying to snap a few frames. He jogged over to the stone form of Ignis, making sure to photograph his stoney visage at least once or twice while the glowing prince zipped along behind him, weapons in hand. At last, he pulled out a Golden Needle and poked the still hand of the advisor, instantaneously bringing the color back to his features. Ignis seemed shaken, glancing around and finding the gunner. “Thank you” with a nod, he turned back to the fight with an adjustment of his glasses, as the Shield and prince fell prey to a mist of what looked an awful lot like poison.

The fight wouldn’t take much longer from that point. Fortunately, both the four of them and Prompto’s camera seemed to be in once piece, having found the lens cap in the remains of a charred deamon. They each respectively healed up before moving on to the next room.

 “Prompto, angle that bounce to the left,” The photographer commented from behind the lens, while the couple before them remained in an affectionate embrace as the waves of Insomnia’s beach gently crashed by their feet. The blond sheepishly nodded, shifting the large white reflective circle in his arms to the left in an attempt to catch the light. It caught the young couple’s eyes looking intently into the other’s, and Prompto could feel his heart flutter. They looked so dedicated.

A lot of photographers looked down on wedding photography; it was too much effort, it didn’t go anywhere, extended family was ever happy with the outcome. And definitely, some folks seemed to be doing it for the wrong reasons, but every so often a couple would come along and you could just really tell they were supposed to be together. While Prompto was sure that he himself was a long ways off from anything like marriage, it always brought a smile to his face when assisting a wedding photoshoot felt like he was actually doing something good for someone else. Even if they didn’t remember him, he helped create something that would last and be looked back on for years and years, better or worse.

 The memory came back to the gunner suddenly at camp after the incident with the Pyschomancers. Ignis was cleaning up after a lasagna that always made Prompto feel like he could fart his way through the rest of the dungeon, but in a good way. Gladio was topless and doing squats off to the side facing the wall, weirdo, and Noctis was on his phone to his right. He was sitting in his usual spot, rigorously still trying to get the remaining goo flakes out of the buttons and lens of his camera. Inspecting the body once more, he turned it on to review the day’s photos. There were a few pretty decent ones he was going to show the gang, but also a few that progressively irked him. The photos he had tried to snap of stone Iggy and flying Noctis before were blurry, but not blurry in the way that they were out of focus, but blurry in the way that they were doubled, because the shutter speed had been too slow because the light Noctis and their flashlights put out was not enough to make it through his lens. In the next ones, his F-stop was too high. Perfectly in focus. Too dark.

The gunner fell into a frown, skipping through the rest of them to now. Somehow either he forgot the change his settings before that fight or they got screwed up when he dropped the camera, but they were all crap. “Ugh, can we go now? Haven’t we killed enough deamons to make that old lady happy?” He couldn’t help but whine, sinking into the chair.

“How is anyone going to believe we were here when your photos are so bad?” Prompto jumped slightly, too wound up in his photos to notice that the prince had leaned over to peek at his viewscreen. “Dude!” Betrayed, he shielded the camera and turned away with what was basically a pout.

Ignis came to sit with them, mug of decaf coffee in hand. “‘Great evil’ would seem to be more than a few magic flan and some possessed corpses, after all.” Gladio remained off to the side, now doing one armed pushups, unaffected.

But he was supposed to be better than this now, better than when they had started out and his wrong camera settings were still cute instead of inexcusable. His photos ended up in that magazine that Vyv guy ran. He was supposed to be able to shoot photos worthy enough of giving to Lady Lunafreya, so that she and Noctis could look back on this forever. His thoughts ended up returning to the happy couple on the beach, and his heart fell. He wanted to believe they made it out of Insomnia before the fall, but in practicality they most likely didn’t. All of the people whose memories he helped make… A part of him vowed that when they finally made it back to Insomnia, he would search out the photos, somehow. He wouldn’t let them be forgotten. An idea struck him, and he sharply turned back to Noctis.

“Well, I was here. I don’t know what you were doing.” Holding up the camera for a selfie, he stuck out his tongue at his best friend and snapped a photo. This time he had made sure the settings were right. He took several more, each time making a more and more dramatic face. In spite of the barb, Noctis laughed and tossed his phone at the photographer. Gladio finally returned to the circle, quirking a brow and glancing over to Ignis as he sipped his coffee and watched the other two bemusedly.

It wasn’t the worst night, given the day they had, but it was nothing compared to what was in store for them from that point.

[meow-meow-motherfckr]

The Ghost of Harrenhal

We open with Catelyn having a nice lunch with Renly. She tells him Robb doesn’t want the Iron Throne, and Renly says he can be King in the North--but only in name. She wants him to negotiate a peace with Stannis, which he says is a no can-do, and then he gets killed by Stannis and Mel’s smoke-demon-baby. Talk about timing. Just as she lowers his dead body to the floor, different Kingsguard come in, and ignore Catelyn and Brienne’s insistence that she didn’t kill Renly. This isn’t exactly unreasonable of them. Brienne fights her way out, and even kills a man, which I suppose is more dramatic than Catelyn coming up with an escape plan. Apparently nobody heard the mini battle in the King’s tent, so Brienne has time to cry over Renly before Cat gives her a little pep talk, and they leave because revenge.

Littlefinger’s spidey senses go off, and he goes to find Loras and Margaery. Loras is understandable upset over the death of his lover. Margaery wants to go home with their army. Loras wants revenge. Littlefinger pops up and has an idea to play the long con, and between Littlefinger and Margaery he calms down enough to storm out of the tent. Margaery and Petyr have a little moment, and we find out what Margaery wants is to be the Queen. It’s not a bad direction for them to go with her character, and Natalie does a really good job playing that angle, but the show does tend to neatly divide women into either sexual manipulator or strong badass warrior. At least the cool women.

Tyrion and Cersei discuss Renly’s death, and Stannis’ impending arrival. Cersei can’t be bothered, and Tyrion is mildly concerned. He and Cersei fight about Myrcella, and then Cersei informs him that Joffrey is heading up the war effort, and apparently he’s not telling. Good thing Lancel is there to tell Tyrion that it’s Wildfire. Tyrion threatens him until he gives more detailed plans. Lancel takes a face-plant outside Tyrion’s litter, and then relays his execution orders to Bronn. I feel for this guy.  Honestly, Lancel has more interesting character development than half of the people on the show. Cut to the Stormlands, where Davos is kind of concerned because of the whole demon baby thing, but Stannis is more concerned with bannerman than the fact that he just killed his brother. Davos brings up the moral implications, but gives up and talks about the Blackwater attack. He at least gets to give Stannis the truth, which is that people don’t like Melissandre and think Stannis is her puppet. So they leave for King’s Landing without Mel, because Stannis compares about PR now. But he’s still into killing dissenters. Baaby steps.

Tyrion has an exposition moment and explains that they’re basically screwed as he walks down the streets of King’s Landing, which apparently he does routinely now. He accidentally walks into a rabble, and apparently the people aren’t down with incest. Tyrion is ready to flame Joffrey, until the speaker drops “demon monkey” and Tyrion is, understandably, perturbed. He realizes people blame him for the shit-show that is King’s Landing, when he sees himself as the savior. I mean, he’s still propping up and illegitimate and sadistic tyrant, but he practices harm reduction, so we’re all good.

Theon watches another ship sail away, and it upset by how small his own ship is. Rare pairs, am I right? Nobody follows his commands, and his second mate is ready to mutiny before they even get on board. Yara shows up to mock him, and brag about all her ships, while Theon’s crew sails off without him. SOme random guy comes to help Theon, and he is not quite suspicious enough about why this man wants to help him. He questions Theon’s masculinity, and primes Theon to disobey his father’s orders and go for Torrhen’s Square. Theon realizes the Starks would immediately take it back, leaving Winterfell vulnerable, and the music tells us this is going to be a big deal.

Tywin has a chat about how the Northern lords are discontent, because it’s war, but Tywin thinks they’ve underestimated Robb. He chucks his cousin out of the council/Harrenhall because he wanted a nap, and then he asks Arya where she’s from, and gets her to admit she’s a Northerner. Remember that part where Arya said that Sansa knew all the sigils and she didn’t? And how Sansa actually has practical skills that could assist her in surviving? Oh wait, Sansa’s not allowed to be good at anything. Back to the show, she talks about how great Robb is, and Tywin is super chill with it. Arya says that anyone can be killed, and we’re up to our eyeballs in foreshadowing. Arya wanders around, until Jaqen rolls up and they talk about gender for a hot second. She’s pissy because he works for the Lannisters, but to be fair, she does as well. He offers to take out three people for her, and she tells him to kill the tickler first. She doesn’t name Tywin for some reason despite the fact that he is right fucking there. Maybe she’s grown sympathetic to his harsh, yet grandfatherly manner. Who the fuck knows.

We go up to our Winter Wonderland the Fist of the First Men. The only thing Sam can talk about is Gilly, because his personality is chasing girls I guess. He does geek out for a while to exposit who the First Men are, and then Jon says something gloomy because he’s Jon. I guess they gave up on making Dolorous Ed actually dolorous and made Jon fill that role. Quorin Halfhalnd is introduced as basically the Bear Grylls of Westeros, and then we cut to Tyrion.

Tyrion promptly makes a dick joke, but the Pyromancers take him seriously. They have a shit ton of highly volatile substance, and Bronn points out that if somebody drops some wildfire during a battle it’s game over for King’s landing because that shit burns fucking everything. They also make a nice joke about Aerys and Wildfire, and I think it might even be original, so credit where credit is due. Tyrion takes the whole Wildfire operation from Cersei basically just by saying so, and the pyromancers are down with that because sexism I guess.

Across the Narrow Sea, Dany is teaching her dragons how to barbecue. Drogon is clearly the favorite child. Also I high-key ship Dany and Doreah, and I’m super mad that the writers decided to end Doreah’s storyline the way they did. Irri is bitter because she’s also low-key in love with Dany (who wouldn’t be tbh) but they get along by talking about Dany’s new clothes because that’s what women do. Dany casually brings up the fact that she wasn’t consensually married to her husband, and that he actually bought her, something the fandom collectively tends to forget. There’s this awkward moment where 1) Irri acts like Drogo is the best thing since sliced bread 2) Dany asks Doreah to prostitute herself to get information 3) Irri snaps at Doreah because Dany is getting to westernized, and then 4) Irri tries to cover it up by being nice to Dany, then storms out. It like, there’s actually a complex scene with multiple characters with different motivations and dynamics. The good old days, when the show could write dialogue.

Apparently the costume directors decided to ditch the one-boobie-hanging-out look since they presumably wanted the audience to absorb something from the next scene, which is in the courtyard in Qarth. Dany is networking. She then has to go and stop her Dothraki from stealing a gold peacock, which is supposed to be funny I guess, but in a white-woman-stops-clueless-brown-people-from-stealing sort of way. This isn’t GRRM’s strongpoint either, but the show does a pretty shit job at presenting this is different culture with different values surrounding ownership, and just makes all the Dothraki look uncultured and clueless. Pyat Pree rolls up with his trippy kaleidoscope and makes Dany see double, then tells her to come to his magic castle. Emilia Clarke succeeds at looking mildly confused. Jorah gets jealous when Dany talks to Xaro Xoan Daxos, because he gets jelous everytime she breathes the same air as another man, and then Quaithe rolls up and says something fake-deep. I do not think her makeup was successful, but admittedly, GRRM didn’t give them an easy task.

Cut to Catelyn and Brienne and their pretty horse. They talk about how they saw a shadow deamon kill someone, and they’re trying to play it cool. Cat says it just looked like a generic man, but Brienne is convinced it was Stannis (guess who’s right.) Cat decides to go to see Robb and then head home to see Bran and Rickon. That noise you hear is me bawling my eyes out. Brienne asks for permission to go kill Stannis once she takes Cat home, and Cat is literally the only person on this show who isn’t a revenge zombie. They do keep Brienne’s line about a woman’s kind of courage, which is really nice. They’re pretty much my brotp.

Up north Rickon is smashing wax while being forced to do LordThings, which is honestly #relatablecontent. One of the commoners is talking about how he can’t keep watch of his sheep because everyone went to war, and Bran does the correct LordThing, and sends him some orphans, as one does. Then he scolds Rickon for smashing wax, which is probably this kid’s only source of fun. Ser Rodrick comes in with his funny facial hair and says that Torrhen’s square is under attack, and Bran falls for Theon’s trap, sends 200 men. Maester lewin is a bit iffy about it, but he goes along with it, but allows Bran to be noble and shit. Bran asks Osha about the three-eyed raven, and she isn’t a dream dictionary, which irritates him. He describes his prophetic dream of the sea flooding Winterfell, which honestly... people should listen to Bran more often. Osha mentions that they “say all sorts of crazy things north of the wal” and then the camera cuts... North of the Wall!

It looks cold. Like, yikes. Quorin sees a fire. Sam can’t see it because his eyes are good, so hey, there’s some continuity. He brings the news that all the Wildlings have joined Mance Rayder in an army, and says the wildlings are going to adapt to their habits, so they need to adapt to be more like the wildlings. Quorin wants to start by killing some lookouts, and gathers a team. Jon feels left out, and asks to go with. Sam steps i to take up Jon’s duties because he’s the real MVP, and Jon gets to go on the field trip.

Dany and Zaro have a talk about Jorah and the Friend Zone because what else would anybody else care about in Dany’s storyline? They talk about conquering and what they want, and dragons. He shows her his door to his treasure chamber, though if she were really serious about anything she would ask to see it. He asks for marriage, so she can get enough wealth to take over the seven kingdoms, and he gets a dragon. He also tells her Robert is dead, so she goes off to argue with Jorah. He advocates for a grassroots campaign, and she tells him not to talk down to her, finally. He compliments her a bit which apparently makes things better. He tells her to “make her won way” which is pretty iffy coming from the guy who’s constantly trying to control her but he promises a ship. One. Ship.

Back in Harrenhall, Arya checks out Gendry’s hot bod and gives him fighting tips, and then somebody dies. It’s the tickler, so she makes meaningful eye contact with Jaqen. And she is officially the ghost of Harrenhal.

[amesu-chan]

There I go trying my best at fanfiction again~

It’s set post-game and the boys have decided to return to Insomnia.

“You guys sure we should go in there?”

“It’s been a week, Prompto.We should meet him one last time and vow our friendship to him.” Ignis said while walking through the rubble of the once beautiful and graceful Lucian capital of Insomnia.

“Prompto, there’s no turning back now. We’re almost there anyway. After all, we do owe him. He sacrificed himself for us, restored the light. Who would have thought... I still remember the days he wasn’t able to walk and was bound to that darned wheelchair. He was even a brat back then!” Gladio chuckled lightly.

“Those days were indeed tragic and tiresome. Not only for him. I remember taking him to the roof of the Citadel several times at night to watch the stars as he was recovering from his accident... It was heartbreaking at last.” The advisor added.

The men kept walking, heading for the Citadel. The city was in a miserable state as the buildings have begun to fall apart heavily, considering the damage of the coup was already terrible on Insomnia. The friends however have decided to give the king of kings a worthy tomb.

No. To their dear friend, Noctis.

The men hadn’t seen him ever since  the crystal had claimed his mind and body back then in Gralea. The memories of the friends’ roadtrip had faded in  those ten years. The time they had spent with Noctis when he returned from his long slumber hasn’t been anywhere enough to share all of the stories they had to tell.

‘He was a lamb, nessecary to get killed for the greater good. A sacrifice payed by a young man with no options left’, Ignis thought bitterly to himself as they got closer to the Citadel.

“Considering how much he loves sleeping we should just put him in a huge bed with fluffy pillows and warm fuzzy plankets, right?” The blond desperatly tried to lighten the mood.

“He’s definetly getting enough sleep now...” Gladio mumbled under his breath as the group finally reached the Citadel. Prompto turned around and exclaimed in his usual happy habit “Let’s hop right in, eh?”

“Prompto, you don’t have to come inside if you don’t ant to” Ignis assured him.

“No, no, I’m fine, really! Let’s take the elevator!”

Before Galdio could object, the gunman already had run through the hall to the elevator, wondering how this one still worked considering there was no maintenance for a decade.

“Do you guys think we should try to rebuild Insomnia? It defiently would be big enough to inhabit all of the people living cramped up in Lestallum” Gladio stated as he was entering the elevator. Prompto excitedly pushed the button to the 15th floor.

“It would be proftiable. There is enough work to be done here and it might become as beautiful as it once was. I doubt, however, many would want to put effort into this subject. Even with the light restored the people are hopeless and they are willing to cling onto old habits and are ready to stay in a cramped place as Lestallum. Maybe with some convincing?” Ignis wondered.

The Throne the female elevator voice said as they reached the 15th floor.

“Oh guys, that’s our stop!” Prompto ran out of the elevator almost too joyfully. It seemed as if he was about to see a friend he had missed for years. Truthfully, he had, the circumstances were questionable though.The door to the throne room were shut. Gladio reached out and grabbed the massive door’s handle to push it open only to be stopped by a frghtned squeak from Prompto. “What now?”“I-...don’t think I can go in there” the blond stated in a shakey voice. He continued: “I don’t think i can do it. I don’t think I can endure seeing him in there, not after.. everything”Not after everything they had gone through together.Noctis has been his motivation ever since young teenage years. The two of them spent most of their time other. They had overcome their loneliness together. Noctis was a bird in a cage whereas Prompto felt unloved by his parents and hated by his peers.As much as Prompto had tried to be the cheerful of the group and get everyone’s hopes up, he was saved by Noct from this very bitter and dark place. A place he was about to plunge back into he was afraid if he saw what was inside that room.Prompto would always cherish his memories of playing games until sunrise, going to the arcade after school and their usual shennanigans. How they had studied together and how Noct would always end up being a good student while he himself barely passed the tests. Failing over and over.It had never mattered to the former prince. He stayed his friend despite his bad influence as many used to say. Even king Regis himself had thought so but he saw how happy his son was around the blond, so he was accepted for once in his life.They were friends. That bond would be cherished and hold onto forever, even if one of them was no more.“I, ugh...I’ll just wait here, okay? You guys go and get him. Please...”Gladio furrowed his brows. “Good to know you are scared as easily as back then. Let’s go, Iggy!” And with this the door was opened and Prompto quickly turned away. There he was. Sitting on the throne like a real king, his father’s sword stuck deep in his chest. The crystal had begun to fall apart, making small crumbs fall down on Noctis and scattered around the dark floor of the room. The light of the setting sun shone softly on his features and was reflected by the crystals particles floating around the room. They almost looked like flower petals...Impaled by his father’s sword, he seemed to be at peace. One could assume he was just sleeping. Sleeping for eternity.An awkward cry and gross sobbing cut through the silence. The gunman had dared to to look into the room and he immedeatly regretted his decision. He felt his knees give in; he couldn’t hold back anymore. He felt his heart breaking into pieces and shards. Too many to collect to make a whole again.Why? Had he suffered terrible pain before his death?Prompto still heard his best friend’s laughter in his ears. Forever gone.  He was lifeless and dead.For 10 years he had clinged on the thought of going back to the way it used to be. He knew, evern back then, it would be impossible but as of now the pain was too much. It ripped him apart from the inside. Every cell of his body seemed to hurt, he could barely breathe.‘He was impaled by his own father’s sword...’All of a sudden he found himself in Ignis’ tight hug, petting his back and rubbing circles to calm him.“It’s okay, Prompto. I know. I miss him too... We loved him too. But we’re here, you’re not alone, okay?”Prompto’s crying quieted down and he wiped his tears on his sleves.“Yeah, we’re stuck together ever since back then” Gladio said as he approached Prompto and put a hand on his shoulder and tightly squeezed it. “I’ll get him. Take care of our little crybaby here, Iggy”.Gladiolus walked over to the throne and climbed its stairs. He sadly looked at his friend who seemed to have died a painful death, or was it suicide?He carefully removed the sword that stuck him to the backrest and cought his body falling on him. He was cold. Obviously...Nonetheless it made him long for the warmth they had shared at camps or when they had to share a bed since they didn’t have enough money for another room. He carefully placed the former prince on his back. Even though he knew Noctis was to sacrifice himself, he still mourned his friend. His face shortly shower a pained expression but he couldn’t allow himself to give in. He had to support the other two, he couldn’t be weak.“Alright, off we go. Get yourself off the ground Prompto, enough crying! Let’s get back home.”Ignis released the blond from his hug as he stood up.It was almost dark outside as they left the building but they wouldn’t have to worry. Deamons were forever banished and wouldn’t harm anyone anymore.‘Oh Noct, I hope you found your peace. We have yet to find it.” Ignis reminisced. “You were my sole purpose in life after all. My place was at your side but now I’m nothing more than a stray dog. You were my king and I was your advisor and friend. I have to find a place for my own. I hope you never forget that we need you Noct. We love you...”

[tinymixtapes]

Column: Favorite Rap Mixtapes of July 2017

With a cascade of releases spewing from the likes of DatPiff, LiveMixtapes, Bandcamp, and SoundCloud, it can be difficult to keep up with the overbearing yet increasingly vital mixtape game. In this column, we aim to immerse ourselves in this hyper-prolific world and share our favorite releases each month. The focus will primarily be on rap mixtapes — loosely defined here as free (or sometimes free-to-stream) digital releases — but we’ll keep things loose enough to branch out if/when we feel it necessary. (Check out last month’s installment here.) --- VIK - Facts of Life [stream/download] There are a thousand Soundcloud users out there who want to be the next All These Fingers, YungMorgpheus, or Theravada, but like the Highlander, there can be only one. Anybody can fuck up a beat, you see? But it takes a measure of ingenuity to fuck up, in, out, on, and off that beat simultaneously. VIK does these things, and he raps under the name Comfy God. Look, I’m just telling you facts here. Facts of Life is everyman rap as a mostly wordless psychogeography, an anti-happening happening to occur on tape, that type of spontaneity so dope it makes you believe in destiny… and rewind. –Samuel Diamond --- Jonatan Leandoer127 - Katla [stream] Looks like someone’s been hitting the books lately. Ditching the Yung Lean moniker for his government name, Jonatan Leandoer127 opens his sophomore effort with an excerpt from Milton’s Paradise Lost. “Immediate are the acts of God, more swift Than time or motion,” he recites, stumbling over a few words. Producer Palmistry washes the missteps with swells muted strings — no drums needed. Save for the occasional flourish of cyborgian autotune, Katla bears little resemblance to Yung Lean’s back catalogue. You’d have better luck shelving tracks like “Hell Rain” and “Cathedral” in a playlist alongside Julee Cruise and Lust For Youth than you would next to cuts from Unknown Death or Warlord. Leandoer’s Swedish spoken-word poems are chanted with liturgical weight atop misty ambience, then strained through a compression filter as tinny as a Nokia Tracfone’s speaker. Imagine This Mortal Coil remixed by Moby or Oneohtrix Point Never grabbing hold of some Sinead O’Connor stems. File this one under “Future Folk.” –Jude Noel --- Truman Snow - TRUIYASHA [stream/download] I don’t know why Truman Snow isn’t Tiny Mix Tapes’ favorite rapper, but I can only assume it’s because I’m the one championing him thus far. Sorry, Tru. Let me put it like this, though: If you like Young Thug and Future, you should love Truman Snow. If you love Young Thug and Future, you should move to Norfolk, Connecticut, find Truman Snow and volunteer to mule drugs for him or something. He probably doesn’t even need that service, but it’s the thought that counts. And the drugs count too, so buy Truman Snow ALL the drugs, mule them to him, then buy them back from him. Don’t lend him your ears. Give them to him, like Van Gogh. He may have only released two mixtapes so far this year, but he deserves 10 spots on all our lists. –Samuel Diamond --- Godbody Jones - IN GOD WE TRUST [stream] Godbody Jones is an MC/photographer, from Memphis, Tennessee, but his art contains little of the grim aesthetic that have brought horrorcore rappers like Tommy Wright’s 10 Wanted Men and Geto Boys back into the underground spotlight. His lyrics may be typically nihilistic, the product of young frustration directed a crippled nation, but they soar over uniquely melodic beats on “Intro” and “Face It.” Jones has a confident, expressive voice with good range, which is practically a requirement for a successful 2017-era MC. On “Brightness Down,” he puts it all on display, gliding effortlessly between deadpan drawl and slurring vocoder runs. When Jones sings, “Are you down for a ride, or you down for a roll?,” dragging out the “roll” like a he’s skating a steezy rock to fakie, the head instinctually bobs along with him. “Coraline” is a standout — evidence that the Godbody has hitmaker potential alongside being a harbinger of doom. –al ghul --- Scallops Hotel - Over the Carnage Rose a Voice Prophetic [stream/download] If DJ Escrow’s Universal Soulja is the logical extreme of noise rap, a kind of “Coke La Rock meets Merzbow” alpha-omega point, then Scallops Hotel’s Over the Carnage Rose a Voice Prophetic could be described as alt rap on a similar trajectory; however, the tape’s loose assemblage of experimental one-offs, classic remixes, obscure collabos, and instrumental interludes has such a kid-in-a-sandbox vibe that such microgenre descriptors miss the point. If you want to hear a young mastermind at work, you listen to Milo, but if you want to hear that mastermind at play, working things out and having what sounds like an awesome time doing it, you listen to Milo’s side project Scallops Hotel. This is what a mixtape is supposed to be, but better. –Samuel Diamond --- DJ Escrow - Universal Soulja Vol. 1 [stream] “Lifted up.” Overdrive, reverb, and more overdrive, in layers like the roll of tinfoil I accidentally peeled unevenly and fucked up even worse trying to fix. Adlibs hollered as if over a heavy wind. A steady, violent burn. “Dipping T-shirts in blood and that.” The “fucking exclusive” WeTransfer link already expired; “you’ve got to get a new connect, find a new plug.” A PROLIFIC DEAMON with nothing to prove, Escrow lacks the easygoing temperament of a Blue Iverson, though I think some of the latter’s cheaply synthesized strings are hiding somewhere, flayed beyond recognition, in his jagged brush. Clearly the spark to balance the cool of right-hand-man Babyfather, his gift to the melting world this July was a mixtape with texture to match the brain-baking heat. The long, empty days of summer can grow around you like a husk; stay alert. “The mind is a terrible thing to waste.” –Will Neibergall [pagebreak] --- Knxwledge - HEX.10.8_ [stream] The L.A. producer Knxwledge slips a new set of beats onto his bandcamp page on a rigorous schedule (just in time for our Monthly Mixtape Roundup, it would seem). Each of these tapes — about 15-20 minutes in length — sells for $10.88, so artists claiming there’s no money in purchasing music should hit this dude up for some tips, because his beats are hotter and come in more flavors than LaCroix nice-smelling carbonated water. They are not, however, simply nice-smelling water. There’s a delightful crate-digging, compilation quality to them. Knxwledge sorts his beats into different series, the names of which often change (HEX used to be “Hexual_Sealing”). Some songs on HEX.10.8_ end abruptly, others, like “dordie_” and “issaparty_,” are simply heavily side-chained early Millennium R&B. It’s usual Knxwledge fair, the sort that has made him a superstar in the lofi beats scene. When Soundcloud goes to the great silicon server in the sky, taking all its 2-cent producers running circles around “Blue in Green,” at least we can safely hold onto the knowledge that this Stones Throw schxlar will keep us supplied with the essentials. –al ghul --- MIKE - May God Bless Your Hustle [stream/download] I hesitate to even include May God Bless Your Hustle in this column, because although we should be well beyond that whole album vs. mixtape / high vs. low art bullshit, I fear it remains embedded in the back of our minds, but since I’m going in hard this month anyway, let’s get it. MIKE’s is a young voice and an old soul helping each other make the most of each day and night. May God Bless Your Hustle, easily his most complete, cohesive, coalescing project to date by my summation, might well be called a new kind of hustle altogether if it didn’t feel so damn familiar. Not derivative nor redundant, but well-informed and engaged, it’s like natural syndicalism. It just makes sense. –Samuel Diamond --- Ski Mask the Slump God - YouWillRegret [stream] “I’m not lyrical, but I’m lyrical,” said Ski Mask the Slump God in an interview with Power 105.1’s DJ Self. “I just like saying stuff to make people say ‘wow.’” You’d be hard pressed to find a better quote that could serve as the Broward County emcee’s artist’s statement — like Lil Uzi Vert admitted to his fellow XXL Freshman Class panelists in 2016, he eschews narrative to focus entirely on “getting in the booth and making it sound good.” On his official debut LP, Ski Mask trades in his usual samples of cartoon theme songs for gothic compositions trimmed with church organ and detuned synths. Despite sharing a blown-out bass tone with fellow members of Florida’s Soundcloud scene, he bears more of a resemblance to early-80s minimal wave acts like Oppenheimer Analysis and Solid Space than his geographical neighbors. The drastic timbral shift pays off: with more room to breathe, Ski Mask’s zig-zagging, triple-knotted flows are clearly on display from all angles. The long-awaited “Bird Is The Word” is queasily dissonant, pairing a heaved delivery with creeping chords. “Gone” is ethereal enough to fit next to BeeDeeGee and Holly Herndon on a 4AD compilation. “Adventure Time” still sounds as ahead of its time as it did when dropped on Boxing Day, seven months ago. Even at his least gimmicky, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who sounds as fresh as Ski Mask the Slump God does on YouWillRegret. Don’t sleep. –Jude Noel --- Dizzy SenZe - Hueman Vertigo [stream] The problem with nostalgia and novelties is that they can get old quick. I’m not naming names, but maybe, just maybe, there are more than a few throwback rappers du jure who wouldn’t have been given the time du jure when their style was actually hot. Plus, this being New York, I could literally walk down the street, point to a person, and get a verse doper than most of what’s sent my way by the PR goons who flood my inbox daily, but I digress. To America, Dizzy SenZe may be New York to a fault, but it’s no fault of her own. When you’re this good at what you do, it’d be foolish to do otherwise. Dizzy does the Bronx justice simply by doing herself. This is how it’s done. –Samuel Diamond --- Trouble - 16 [stream/download] Like a thief in the night, Trouble has seized the next spot in line. Finally. Since 2011, he’s been perpetually on the verge of a breakthrough, a walking renegade whose show-stealing features simply couldn’t translate to sustained popularity when it came time to drop his own shit. Starting with last year’s Skoobzilla, that might finally be changing. Trouble’s greatest strength is his versatility, and he’s wasted no time adapting his style to the ever-evolving rap zeitgeist. Remarkably, 16 is just a teaser, collecting a handful of tracks that evidently won’t make Trouble’s forthcoming album EdgeWood. Given the quality of 16, that’s a very good sign. EdgeWood will be entirely produced by Mike WiLL Made-It, with Drake and The Weeknd headlining an already impressive list of features. Fool me once, etc., but if 16 is any indication, then Trouble’s coming for real this time. –Corrigan B --- Warhol.SS - 3200 [stream] Warhol.SS arrived at his namesake through Basquiat, the genius artist/celebrity who practically invented the nature of hype, rising in the public eye at a Migos pace, before dying from a heroin overdose with Cobain expediency. His paintings now sell for eye-watering suitcases of money. We’re talking over 550 lbs in $100 bills. Basquiat was admittedly with Andy, or maybe, like many of the King of Pop-Art’s hangers on, he sees the association as a conduit to success. 3200 is compiled of Soundcloud tracks (probably a smart move, considering the platform’s uncertain future). Warhol’s flow is amusing off-kilter on “Mac Up” and “In The Field,” as if the dude is jumping around in the booth while he records. He sounds like a less nihilistic Chief Keef, riding explosive sub bass like he held the engineer at gun point and made him turn it the fuck up, levels be damned. “Bag it 2” pairs this King Kong kick to some bouncy 8-bit synths — it’s by far the standout on a tape that shows progress. –al ghul --- Secret Museum of Mankind - The Masculine Dignity of Mountain Tribesmen [stream/download] Das Racist was a delusion of grandeur turned actually grandiose. Kool AD’s solo work, on the other hand, is more like a grand delusion. Dude is rapping so much and recording so many of those raps, his catalog basically amounts to a transient’s travelogue, if that travelogue was the direct transcript of an inner-monologue. Long story short, the man is logging some serious time in booths. Secret Museum of Mankind finds that wanderer work ethic in a kind of supergroup setting, with freestyles so hifalutin they ought to be engraved in metal slabs and stuck on walls for future passersby. Kool AD + Quelle Chris + these other dudes x Steel Tipped Dove = historic bruh. –Samuel Diamond http://j.mp/2h9ujGs