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littlefoxwithbighat · 4 years ago

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Hi! This is talking about the plot of the dream smp in a meta sense and its a bit negative. The person behind this blog wants to remind you that you can skip if it's not for you and they still love the SMP. :)

ALL DISCUSSION IS ABOUT CHARACTERS. DON'T ATTACK CCS OR I WILL STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS.

I can't lie; I'm really annoyed and worried at the way the writers are handling Tommys character at the moment, and am increasingly concerned about it messing up the plot.

I wasn't very happy with the finale. I don't think that means all is lost, I think they can pull it back but it's going to take some work. I was worried about the way that things were handled before but the green festival was actually very well handled, so my worries were mostly assuaged. But yesterday? I don't know.

The fact nobody lost a cannon death is kind of disappointing. The weight of blowing up an entire city/ (country?) brutally is somewhat lost if there is no human loss. Nobody was hurt physically and the only people this had a big mental impact on was Tommy and Tubbo, everyone else wasn't very attached to L'manburg or had gone rogue, or were detatched from the while situation. And maybe it's the fact it's happened to them before or that they still have each other or that it seems odd/ frustrating that they still care so much about this place or that it was always a losing battle and they knew it, but I dont find myself really pitying them like I probably should. And I think that comes down to character growth or lack thereof, which I'll discuss later.

Niki and Fundy have started a villain arc, or at least a violent nihilism arc, and I actually don't mind it, in fact I'm a fan but it wasnt really foreshadowed, or really just showing them cracking as much as it should have been. I would guess this has mostly been started for both of them to tie Niki into the plot and I can't blame her for wanting that. Fundys acting is very good, and I REALLY hope the writers handle this well. For Fundy, regarding the fact that his father is going to be resurrected and that Fundy is following in his footsteps... If the writers don't realise that connection and make this a big step in Fundys narrative I will scream. Also Funboo bros are very interesting character foils and I hope their relationship is maintained so that they can play of off each other and also man I just really want them to keep being friends, it's a generally positive healthy relationship that makes both characters sympathetic and we need that right now. As for Niki, her character motivations seem to be mostly centered around Tommy and on the one hand I'm like ehhhh, because Tommy's character already gets a disproportionate amount of attention in terms of narrative, and I get it, but recently he's been a bit TOO much of the protagonist for a multi-person POV improve server... and I'm apprehensive. However on the other hand this has potential for a nice confrontation between Tommy and Niki. If that happens I want Tommy to be aware that this is going to happen and not talk over Niki, and I don't want it to be brushed over. I think it would be best if it was just the two of them. This also gives a nice chance for Tommy to examine his trauma with Dream and explain his motivations and Niki to get her anger out. I also want it to end positively, because it absolutely can and lack of communication when the viewer knows how to fix it is OK as a plot device sometimes but incredibly frustrating if it keeps happening (cough, Tommy and Techno).

Ranboo is reacting to the plot amazingly and I have as usual only praise for him, go, you funky enderman boy, go.

Wilbur is getting resurrected which is a thousand percent because Will wants the plot back and honestly I don't really mind, I think he'll do a good job. However I really hope he speaks to everybody about their characters, particularly Fundy, Ranboo and Niki because I don't want their characterisation and arcs to be thrown away.

Tubbo is doing very well, and I don't have many complaints to be honest. I hope he continues to get in with the acting with no shame, because he's an amazing VA when he wants to be, but sometimes he undercuts serious moments a little too much by laughing. Same criticism for Phil actually. But both are doing good.

On the theme of that, while I don't mind tension relievers or humour in serious moments there are sometimes too many. It was a lot worse about a month back and it was improving, but it seems to be creeping back in and ehhh. It's kind of Marvel-esque and not in a good way? I think it has a lot to do with bloopers and for some reason there are loads at the moment? Like Wilburs arc had almost none and this arc there's at least 2 every moment. Which isn't always their fault but maybe they need to take more steps to prevent them.

Techno is doing OK, he's quite a meta character so I'm not too mad about him undercutting serious moments but sometimes he does do it too much or in the wrong place. Like making jokes about Connor completely over the top of Tommy and Tubbos reunion, you know an event which has been foreshadowed for yoinks, prevented them from getting a proper flow going and kind of ruined it. And that made the reunion really dissapointing, which is a shame because it could have been so cool. However his characterisation is consistent and dedicated, his goals and relationships are clear and he's getting humanised more which is nice, and his monologues are great. I'm curious to see what he does now NL'M is gone but I have total faith in him.

Now Tommy. Oh Tommy. His character is such a mess at the moment, which is a shame because there were moments I saw people doubting his character choices and I was behind him.

Firstly the relationship with Techno fell apart. That was inevitable. Tommy didn't care about anarchy and Techno didn't care about the discs and both of their goals would impede the others. But the way Tommy talks about Techno is so... No? And now I understand that Tommy is going to have a biased perspective on the whole situation, and that's fine and good, but his character is so wrong about Techno it feels weird and painful? Like even from his perspective it went down differently to how he talks about it. They don't listen to each other and it's like watching two people scream at a wall.

The issue is the relationship was fairly well developed. I struggle to see Tommy saying he saw Techno as a friend but Techno never saw him as a friend because hold on, what? Techno, here's a respiration helmet because of that one of thing you told me about your trauma, a disc because those make you happy, plus top tier armour and weaponry, plus I'm going to spend time with you, calm you down from panic attacks, hide you and protect you from Dream, let you wander around L'manburg and achieve your own goals and help you plan things out Techno and Tommy didn't get ANYTHING from that? Plus after Techno opens up about his goals and his trauma, do the one thing that would hurt him the most, (use and then betray him) and then directly oppose his goals after he helped me? Ugh. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I know he would never let Tubbo get hurt and thats fine, but there were ways around that. If you're framing this character as the protagonist, then he needs to be sympathetic or at least grow and Tommy using Techno again without remorse and then refusing to listen to his perspective or show any gratitude for anything makes it difficult for viewers to empathise with him in my opinion. Have him betray Techno and then listen to Techno when he explains why Tommys betrayal hurt him and apologise, fine. Have him listen to Techno and try and find a way to keep Tubbo safe regardless, fine. Have him betray Techno but apologetically and still trying to avoid Techo getting crushed or killed, fine. But THIS? Im sympathetic towards Tommys character but this throws away so much potential character development for Tommy, where at least he saw Techno as a person, and not only that but a nice person who despite everything has set aside everything to help him? And then for him to be exactly where he was at the end of season 1, both literally, and emotionally ? I understand this is a child soldier with trauma but this is supposed to be our protagonist and if he doesn't grow, and isn't sympathetic and destroys someone we care about, how can we root for him?

Now all of this could be forgivable, not great, but forgivable, if Tommy had moved on from the discs. The Goddamn Discs™. And the worse part is all the dominoes were lined up to suggest he had! We had his moment of "he watched me" where he realised Dream was the villain and controlling him, "I've become worse than everyone I hated" good, amazing, I see where this is going, "The discs were worth more than you ever were!" and then he retracts and apologises and you think horray! Tommy has realised the discs were being used to control him and if he doesn't care about them, they hold no value! Now he's going to realise that his friends are more important and he's going to stop going after the discs. His new character motivation can be killing Dream and protecting his friends, especially Tubbo. It's clearly angled this way, and this way the plot progresses and Tommy with it. What marvellous character development. Look at him go.

And THEN, after everything that's happened he says the most important thing is the disc and I want them back!?!? EH !!? Why... Who... Who gave the OK on that writing decision? That's so static and boring and unsympathetic! And then he's back to asking people do fight for L'manburg? What?

I'll be honest I was kind go hoping either Tommy or Tubbo would die with L'manburg. I didn't mind it they didn't, there are a thousand ways to make the plot work without them dying, but this was not a great one.

PLEASE let Tommy have some growth. Yes he's had some from not caring about L'manburg to fighting for it in season one, but that was ages ago and he doesnt seem to have changed since then in any way that really counts. And I know this is harsh and he's traumatised but you have to understand I am talking about this in a sense of characters and narrative and NOT in terms of real life. Tommy needs to be better and dynamic because he is a charcacter and I want him to be a good one.

Having said all that, here are my thoughts on the future of the SMP.

Firstly, I am worried that becuse it is such a good source of content, especially for Tommy that they will never ever kill his character and leave him fighting with Dream for eternity. And I love the Dream SMP but I've seen stories that get dragged out for plot or content, and however much you think you want it to never end, let me tell you, yes you do. It will get stale and repetitive and I want the dream smp, or at least Tommys arc to go out with a beautiful and brilliant and fabulous plot ending instead of being dragged into the dirt. And then maybe new characters take the spotlight. Just please god give it a goode ending.

I also really hope they don't throw other things away to make Tommy the centre of attention, especially if it's destructive to the plot, or kind of weird and obnoxious.

Secondly, I am intrigued about the prison and Schlatts book to Dream and Technos favour and the egg and what that entails and I hope they really think through those plot points carefully and make them work, and don't forget them or throw them away.

Thirdly, I am intrigued for Wilburs return and hope that he manages to fix it cohesively without too crazy a change of pace and style and keeping characters (especially Ranboo and Fundy and Niki) consistent.

I hope they prep for the future and think things thought and communicate with each other.

It might be interesting to see other countries finally discussed but I don't know how much that would intefere with other plot points so we'll see.

That's all! Reminder that this is about characters and plot and this is just a few criticisms. I love the dream smp, but there are somethings I wanted to get of my chest. Please be respectful and feel free to discuss in the notes. Also, again, no hate to any CCs!

#mcyt #mcytumblr #dream smp theories #dream smp analysis #dream smp #dream smp spoilers #dream smp meta #tommy mcyt #negativity #negativity tw #dream smp plot

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revenant-cant-drive · 4 years ago

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yeah no im never gonna stop making these random revenant posts sorry. some pathfinder's quest spoilers below but also other stuff

this is all just random ramblings i made at 12am on the discord server

it’s so wild to think like. not only did the people that created him live their lives out and die, a few generations of people who worked on controlling, updating, giving him targets, lived their entire lives out and died. they worked their entire careers with this thing

did some of them even know he used to be a person? or did they just think he was an advanced MRVN? obviously some people had to know, but.

i know a lot of ppl interpret his 300 years of life as like he was living life normally the whole time he just couldn’t see himself in the mirror but like i truly think that it was basically all like a dream for him. he was just going through motions that felt instinctual because he’d been doing it before he even died. they’d shut him down when they didn’t need him to do anything and wake him back up when they did. and he would just interpret it as falling asleep, waking up, and maybe days or weeks have passed, and he would’ve never known. like in practice, he’s lived 300 years, but they were basically all stolen from him

I imagine he probably had lots of information accessible to him that would like, generally be hard to learn for a person (languages, science, researching people and locations). But it was just given to him. And then when he goes rogue they go "aw fuck' and cut him off. Hence stuff like, why can't he drive?

He has so many complicated feelings abt "am I/am I not human".... Like his brain still tries to trick him. He smells or feels things and has thoughts like "aw shit that's gonna make me bleed" and it makes him so mad

Also okay like it's so interesting because like. It's kinda like the clone question. Like, if there's an exact copy of you, is that also you? Or is only you you? And of course we feel like "of course only me is me" but is that true if that clone is exactly the same as you, thinks the same as you? And then in revenant's situation it's different! Because arguably he IS dead. Arguably he isn't Kaleb cross, he's only someone programmed to act like Kaleb, maybe even using some of his brain signals, but if there's enough in there affecting him and making him act differently, too, is he Kaleb at all? You could argue on one hand that he is, and that it's essentially an extreme version of a cyborg! That his human brain is still the one doing lots of legwork and he's just in a super-enhanced and code-affected body. Or you could argue his human brain is only there as a template, for an AI to be more complete and more realistic, more unique as a person who can interact with the world in new and unpredictable ways.

like path says a whole bunch about how "you're NOT human, but that's ok. There's nothing wrong with not being human, because you can still have feelings." And it's so complicated for revenant because he doesn't consider himself human enough to have feelings but he DOES consider himself human enough to be violated by the fact that his humanity was taken from him

he definitely has a LOOOT of complicated feelings about it. Like I said, I think he hates the idea of being human/seen as human in some ways: he thinks of himself as detached, murderous, and societally we generally DO consider people who do terrible things to be less-than-human. I can absolutely understand why that's how he refers to and talks about himself, especially because not only does he do terrible things (and enjoy them), he doesn't look remotely human either

alright my next part hit the character limit AGAIN...... i really am good at doing that when italk about revenant aren't I? so reblog coming up

#pathfinder's quest spoilers #apex legends spoilers #revenant #apex legends #meta #I say stuff #op

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flyingcookierambles · 3 years ago

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welp ok bro lol

so a high school friend who is a cis dude invited me to his d&d campaign and so far its been interesting and nice and all except. i. havent actually came out to him about my idenity and such so he misgenders me. honestly thats kinda on me i guess? idk.

anyways my character in this one is a half elf rogue named albert for irony purposes. despite this, he doesnt really get into character or anything and calls me and all the other guys by our regular names lol. but also i feel like maybe he should partly because i. literally. dont know who im playing with lmao???? like. pretty much everyone is all former high school classmates except some guy named tim??? and like??? he changed our names on the discord server to our character names, but also the mic echo so when we’re in vc multiple people’s icons light up even tho only one person is talking. and like. i. dont know who is playing who at this point lmao.

anyways as the only “girl” (?????? ew gross lol) in the group i feel like. maybe he forgets that im playing as a dude or something? lololololol. tonight at an item shop with a dwarf shopkeeper, i had albert inquire about a spell scroll on a wall for sale and he was like “sure darling” and i like, surprisingly, wasnt even grossed at this like i normally would be when it comes to my weird gender shit, i was like trying to hold in laughter lmao. like. did my friend forget that i am a Dude (tm) trying to imitate garrett thief/corvo dishonored (im sorry im bad at roleplaying guys lmao), or is the dwarven shop keeper gay? did i/my friend the dm accidentally turn the shop keeper gay/bi/pan? lmaooooooihgruaehgorehaufehwajorehf helpnragohergoianeg lmao

also some highlights from tonight

one guy who i literally dont know who bc again i cant tell who anyone is, rolled a -1 on a wisdom check. A NEGATIVE ONE

AND THEN. NEAR THE END OF THE SESSION. I ALSO BECAME BOO BOO THE FOOL AND GOT A 0 ON A WISDOM CHECK THANKS TO GETTING A NAT 1 AND THEN ALBERT’S WISDOM MOD IS -1 LMAO

WE WENT INTO A BASEMENT WINE CELLER AND ONE GUY PUNCHED A WALL SO HARD ON A 20 THAT HE ACCIDENTALLY PUNCHED ANOTHER GUY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL LOL

during a battle against some monster that was in the bedroom of an abandoned mansion, i, as a rogue with not a lot of offensive skills, decided wisely to hang out in the doorway of the bedroom instead of going into the bedroom because basically everyone else got psychic attacks and fell into madness and i/albert was just like. you know what, i think i’ll hang out here in the hallway with the cleric. loll

#weird gender shit #dnd #lol #games n junk

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leelee10898 · 4 years ago

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A miss match Christmas: matched for disaster.

Hello everyone! Hope you all are having fun reading and writing these awesome Christmas fics! This is my submission for our 12 days of fictmas: 2020 edition, hosted by myself and @emichelle . This comes from the VIP book miss match.. granted the book is not over but, im my head Jack x MC (Callie) have both become CEO of two's company and are married.. this jumps a few years into the future.

The sound of heels could be heard on the slick marbled floor from down the hall. He kept his head forward, eyes trained on the laptop in front of him. As the clicking grew closer, his lips curled up into a smile. "I thought you were heading home?" He could hear the laugh in her voice, he finally looked up to meet her eyes. Those eyes, that intoxicating smile, it was what drew him in the first time they met. It was 4 years ago on valentines day, in her fathers crowded bar. "I could say the same for you." He chuckled.

She walked over to the desk, standing behind him leaning down to see what he was working on. Her long brown hair brushed against his cheek. "Last minute additions to the Christmas party, Jack?" She eyed him, he casually shrugged his shoulders. "And how many clients will be in attendance now?" Her fingers hovered over the mouse, clicking the guest list, her eyes widened in shock. "He is coming?" Jack gave her a knowing look as she stood up striaght. "Now Callie, I know what you're thinking but, wasn't it you who said, and I quote 'everyone deserves to find love, no matter what' ?" He gave her a smug smile.

"Yes," Callie spoke through gritted teeth. "But this guy is accident prone. We will have to tie the decorations down with steel ropes, not to mention no open flames. The wait staff will need helmets.." she began to ramble. Jack chuckled as he stood to calm his pacing partner. "It will be ok,Callie. Just relax."

Two weeks later…

Callie stood toeards the back of the room, her eyes constantly scanning for the one person she would have to be on constant look out for. The worry leaving a crease between her eyes. "Have you moved from this spot at all?" She heard his smooth baritone come up beside her.

"No." She casually spoke, not taking her eyes off the door. Jack shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him as he handed her a champagne flute. "You're cute when you're flustered,Cal. Just Relax."

Just as he spoke a tall man came into view, callie sucked in a panicked breath and sat her glass on the table. Jack placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and turned her face towards his with his free hand. "We will approach him together, he is here to find a match just like everyone else is." Callie nodded and the two crossed the room.

"Thomas Haught, it's good to see you again. You remember my partner,Callie?" Jack spoke, extending his hand. Thomas reached out to shake it, missing completely and knocking the glass out of Jack's other hand.

"Jack." Callie groaned under her breath.

"I am so, so sorry Jack." Thomas apologized. "I am such a klutz, maybe I shouldn't have come."

"It's ok Tom,You are perfectly fine. Try to relax, everyone is here for the same reason. Why dont you grab a bite to eat and we will meet up in a few." Jack smiled politely.

Thomas nodded and headed towards the elaborate buffet table,Callie began to panick "Jack, you just sent him to get food, alone. There are flames under those trays, what if he," callies eyes widened in horror as she watched Thomas's sleeve catch fire. It was quickly put out by a server. "You see!" She shrieked.

"Ok, so maybe Toms a little bit accident prone. Which is why we need to find someone who is a great care giver for him." He chuckled, Callie rolled her eyes and walked away.

As the night went on Callie tailed Thomas. In his wake he managed to trip a waiter carrying a full tray of cranberry and brie with crackers. Knocked over the ice sculpture and elbowed a match maker in the face, blackening his eye. Tom sat at a table alone, Callie was able to relax a little as she watched him slump his shoulders in defeat. If he was sitting, he couldn't be that much of a threat.

Thomas was a handsome man, he was tall and had a thin build. He was in his early thirties and a client of the company's for several years. He was thought to be an 'un matchable' but that didn't stop Jack from trying. She recalled his file in her head. The man volunteered with underprivileged children, he owned his own company and was a volunteer fire fighter. How he managed to not cause more damage with that last part was beyond her.

As she stood there staring at him, she began to feel that familar feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had spent so much time preparing for disaster that she could not let herself willingly try to match this man. That's when the match maker spark came to life. "I know that look, you found your fire." Jacks strong arms wrapped around her waist. "I told you to stop fighting yourself, you were going to lose." He chuckled as his lips found the base of her neck.

"Why is it that the man can rush into burning buildings without falling through the steps, or the place falling in on him. But he can't walk an open room without tripping on a loose thread in the carpet?" She softly hummed.

"It's probably the adrenaline, that and a mix of confidence." Jack answered. "When is this party over again?" His lips exploring her exposed skin.

"That's it!" She quickly spun around in his arms. "You're a genius,Jack! And that's why I married you." She quickly kissed him. "You're a genius." She murder against his lips before turning and walking away.

"What did I do? No clue?" He spoke to himself, shaking his head and following her across the room.

"Having a good time, Thomas?" The sound of Callies voice made Thomas jump up. His knees hit the table and knocked over several drinks and his chair. "I'm so sorry, why am I such a spaz?" Thomas groaned as he lifted a glass off the table. "It's ok Tom, just leave it. The staff will clean it up." By this time Jack had joined the two, giving Callie a confused look.

"Walk with us, will you?" Callie motioned to Thomas. Thomas wrung his hands nervously, tripping over his own feet. "This is hopeless, maybe I should just go home. I can't even walk without tripping over my own feet, how am I supposed to find love? I would probably accidentally harm them somehow."

Callie held up her hand, motioning around the room at the various people. Some couples that had just connected, others just mingling trying to find a spark. "Do you think any one of these people are perfect? That they don't all have some kind of quirk? Some personal issues? Because I will tell you, nobody is perfect. Tell me Thomas do you have any mishaps when you're running into a burning building?"

Tomas searched his mind. "Ah, no. No I can't say that I have."

"And why do you think that is?" She pressed.

"Adrenaline? I don't have time to think I just do it." He shrugged, a smile spread across her face as Thomas began to connect the dots.

"I think you have the potential to be a great someone to somebody, you just need to stop over thinking it and be yourself." Callie patted him on the shoulder. Thomas looked to Jack who nodded his head in agreement. "She's right you know. She's always right."

As the three stood there, Jack with his arms around Callie and Thomas scanning the room with a new found sense of pride, he noticed a couple getting a little too hot and heavy by the enormous 10 foot Christmas tree. He watched in horror as it began to sway just as a pretty petite dark haired woman stood right in the path of destruction. Thomas set off in a sprint across the room, he grabbed the woman by the waist yanking her out of the way just in time as the tree crashed to the ground. The pair tumbled on the floor, Thomas landing practically on top of the woman.

Callie and Jack ran over to the pair as Thomas perched up to look down on the raven haired beauty, shock written all over her face.

"I'm sorry for the crash landing miss but, I couldn't let such a gorgeous creature be crushed to death by a massive tree." He gave her a cheesy grin as he helped her up.

"Oh my god, Maggie are you ok?" Callie wrapped her assistant in her arms.

"I'm perfect, thanks to my Hero over here. " Maggie blushed as she motioned towards Thomas.

" oh im no hero miss." He gave her a bashful smile.

"Anyone who risks being impaled by a rogue tree is definitely a hero in my book. I owe you one." Maggie flirted.

"All in a day's work, mam." Thomas blushed awkwardly. He looked to callie and Jack, callie giving him an encouraging nod.

"Would you ah, would you like to grab a drink?"

Maggie looked to Callie and Jack, twos companys no dating clients or co-workers policy used to be iron clad, until Jack and Callie showed Veronica just how stupid the rule could be. Technically it wasn't encouraged to date clients but, Maggie wasn't a match maker and Thomas was actually perfect for her.

"You two have fun." Callie winked as she grabbed Jack by the arm leading him away as the banquet halls staff began cleaning up the tree fiasco. They walked out onto the balcony, the cold New York air causing immediate goosebumps on callies skin. Jack noticed, shrugging off his jacket and draping it Over her shoulders. "You know if you asked me 4 years ago if I would be here, like this in this moment I would have told you, you were crazy." He spoke softly, his gaze fixed on his wife. " of course I always knew I would be CEO." He gave a cocky chuckle.

"And now?" She challenged.

"Now I cant begin to believe my life. I never thought I would share everything with someone I am truly head over heels in love with. I love you Callie Munroe, you never stop amazing me with everything you do. And just when I think you couldn't possibly amaze me more, you go and give us a family."

Callies eyes widened, she hadn't told him yet. She found out they were expecting a week ago and planned on telling him Christmas morning. "How did you know?"

"I know everything about you, Callie. I can not wait to be a dad, this will be our greatest chapter yet. Merry Christmas." He leaned in placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Jack."

******☆☆☆☆☆******

Tag list : Writers : @texaskitten30 @Leelee10898 @emichelle @zaffrenotes @alj4890 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @god-save-the-keen @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd

Readers : @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject

#12 days of fictmas 2020 #choices 12 days of fictmas #12 days of ficmas #leelee10898 fan fic #leelee10898writes #choices miss match #jack x Callie miss match

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otagen · 4 years ago

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ok this is totally random but i came across your piper changeling art from november and saw the comment about it being an au and i would be so happy to learn more about that? if you want to share

first of all THANK YOU! i love drawing trickster and im so glad you like him.

second of all: I’D LOVE TO TALK ABOUT MY AU. warning: this is such a long and silly explanation. it’s really long-winded and. needs a lot of explanations but luckily i’m happy to go off about it. there really is no name for the AU, but i have been calling that “changeling” hartley... “Fartley”. short for Fake Hartley. altho his actual name is Hartley Star (which i’ll get to). the lyrics are just in reference to a fan song i really like that i thought fit

the rest is going under a read more because it got extremely long: (there will be a TLDR version

so, this au takes place in a dc roleplay server with my friends (we post funny logs here @dcordchat ) and we have different AUs that we just name different earth. one particular earth we have is Earth-223, which is actually an expansion on a canon storyline! the “future flash” storyline (flash 2011 starting at issue #30) that really isn’t well written but a bit part of our server is that we take a lot of ideas and characters that dont get a lot of love (or some who do) and give them a lot more personality and thought. you don’t have to read that arc to know about hartley because the basics are: It’s 20 years in the future, and barry is going through it. he starts time traveling to fix all the mistakes he couldn’t. he’s lost hope. most of the rogues are dead.

a loooot of things have gone to shit, and a lot of people were lost. including hartley rathaway. i don’t remember if hartley dying was canon to this arc (because i didn’t finish it because it really is... hard to get through.) but that’s fine because this is where things start to deviate. hartley is mysteriously killed. his husband, david singh, has not been coping and has secretly taken up vigilante-ism on the side, going by the name Orpheus. (music motif... homage of a myth/fairy tale like the pied piper- of the guy who loses his wife.)

barry obviously isn’t coping well at all either. the rogues are almost like his family, if not completely, at least hartley and he were really close friends. so...

IN COMES... MONDAE STAR!

if you’re new, mondae (aka Nightmare is my oc!) mondae use to be a canon character that i’ve twisted so far into aus of aus that she’s now my oc and is probably indistinguishable from her canon counterpart (they... don’t even look alike at all, unless you have been following me for a long time.)

anyway. mondae is sort of... barry’s roommate in that shitty future world that barry lives in. along with parallax, bart and thaddeus, Lee Allen, Marco Mardon, Josh Jackham, and an array of different animals including raccoons and a polar bear. Mondae is a sort of whimsical dream entity, almost like a diety in fact! but not quite, because she was made fairly recently. what she does is that she eats nightmares and makes dreams... and... can create dreams in the real world. as long as you can imagine it and dream it, mondae can pull that out of the dream realm and make it a reality! she often does this with animals or little gifts or things that are as big as a house.

however, she can also make... people! the first person she made was Lee Allen,, who is the brainchild of the kid that barry never had but always dreamed of having with Leonard Snart before he died(shameless shipping but... we can do whatever we want). this kid never existed before, they are entirely made out of all the wishes and dreams that barry had, and were given fake memories. Lee was made because barry is Mondae’s best friend and she wanted to do something for him! even though she didn’t think it through. despite the problems they had and the troubles adjusting, barry did eventually welcome lee as a father... and grew happier and regained much of the hope he lost before.

now. Mondae takes a look at Orpheus, who is still struggling to cope with the death of his husband. so Mondae figures... “why don’t i do what I did for Barry? I could just MAKE a new hartley.”

i’m sure you see what happens from here.

mondae takes all the dreams and memories that everyone’s ever had of Hartley Rathaway and makes a new Hartley! the problem is, the real Hartley is dead and she doesn’t have access to all of his memories. but hartley remembers all these things and vague memories... he doesn’t remember the experience, his point of view is like. having the Supercut version of his life in his head. he has all the basics but not the details. the important things but not the things in between. everything that mondae didn’t cover in there, she sort of... winged it!

especially with hartley’s powers. mondae is made out of magic. hartley’s powers, the superhearing and the musical hypnotism... those both have scientific explanations. but mondae doesn’t get the science behind it, so this new hartley has powers that are mondae’s INTERPRETATION of his powers. meaning he can sing and play music that can perform miracles and control people like magic, and he can talk to animals like a Disney princess. this “fake hartley” aka Hartley Star (she sees him as a son!) is a living breathing fairy tale character. just like the real pied piper!

barry allen was horrified. more than him... ORPHEUS was horrified. his dead husband came back from the dead, except it’s not actually his husband. he still hasn’t finished grieving the first time, and the fact that this hartley is like his but it JUST different enough to... be noticeable... it’s too painful to witness.

hartley star is devastated and as you can imagine... has a lot of identity issues. thus: the piece of art i first drew with all his different iterations.

feeling dejected and hopeless, hartley star decides to live on his own. or at least tries to. he ends up running off to prime earth. when prime flash catches wind of this, he and a bunch of other characters try to bring him in. then... joe gardner comes in and saves him! and now they’re roommates... they bond over being clones!

hartley star is now just trying to deal with being a fake and having all these weird feelings about identity. eventually, they will make a name for themself! and their future vigilante name will be “symphony”... possible designs for that i haven’t posted yet:

TLDR: 20 years in a horrible future, hartley and many other rogues are dead... a new hartley is made out of HOPES AND DREAMS by a dream diety, but only has half his memories; which makes it hard for his old friends and husband to accept him. he has a lot of self-esteem and identity issues... but he is trying his best!

sorry this got so long but... i’m very happy to share it.

#hartley star #hartley rathaway #nightmare #symphony #Anonymous

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ravnicacardsconverted · 5 years ago

Text

Thank you all so much!

A kinda thematic end. WishCoin Crab ends our first conversion list. and finally fulfilling a dream of mine to start a big project that I enjoy fully. and I can't say I regret starting this one bit. I have had a blast every day. even days where I couldn't Bring myself to build a card. I love this community we’ve developed here and it brings my heart great joy knowing that you all enjoy it. I want to thank all of you so much for helping me start this dream of mine, and I hope you stick around to help me realize the full of this. I know I say this a lot but I love hearing from you all. on my discord, on my Tumblr, in my message box. wherever. I love the Criticism I love the stories, I love helping people with ideas. I love this all. I'll say it again and then get done gushing and down to business. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, I LOVE THIS COMMUNITY.

Plans for the future.I plan on doing a double. unfortunately It will be a bit late but i plan on converting both War of the Spark and Ravnica Allegiance at the same time, alternating each day. I will update you with more info when that comes around. additionally i plan on going though this set and revamping some of my earliest work. and changing it, so you might see many older posts changing. Im doing this because i unfortunately do not feel proud of them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now onto brass tax.Over the next few months I plan on working on and releasing a compendium of all the conversions ive made here. along with a few exclusive conversions. these exclusive conversions include.

Split Spells

Legendary Creatures

Planeswalkers and their spells/minions

In addition to this book will also offer a fully fleshed out Quest known as

A Bad Case of Book Devourers

There will also be a few additional ideas and content which include but are not limited to

A subclass for Rogue based around the Surveil ability

original ideas for magical items, creatures, and spells.

original art from some very talented artists.

Once I work out some ways of distribution I will update with the relevant info. I currently plan on it being on DM’s Guild and direct transfers. For those who have been a patron for 5+ months will receive a free copy.

Additionally a small booklet about the guild lockets will be released for free for all to use. this also spoilers the lockets for Ravnica Allegiance.

Any additional info I am unable to think of currently will be added to this post. with an update including the change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Unfortunately while I work on the book I will be putting the daily conversions on a hiatus. during this time i will still hold a weekly planeshifted card. and additionally I will be taking Commissions. While im not used to this im gonna try my hardest. So here are the Commission Info

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I will take Up to 20 commissions at first and see how this works.

Contact info: Please contact me on this Tumblr though direct messages or my discord directly.

Restrictions/Limitations: While your commission does not need to be a MTG card it might result in a better product. If your commission isn't a MTG card than I request that you provide a suitable amount of Reference material. Additionally I Request you would like a detailed description of what you would like out of the commission. If you are just letting me go lose and use my own ideas than please say so too. I will not do

- Anything I determine to be in poor taste (Raciest,sexist,homophobic,etc) - NSFW conversions. - Stuff from Ravnica Sets.

Payment: Payment will be through paypal and payment will be issued after the conversion is done.

Content Changes: I will periodically update you throughout the commision, if you have changes to the material it will be at no charge unless I have finished the commission. If the change is significant than I withhold the ability to charge extra

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Available Commissions

Monster stats (25$ or higher depending on complexity)

Magical Item(s) (15$ + 5$ for each item past the first.)

Spell(s) (15$ + 5$ for each spell past the first)

Estimated wait till will be given while talking to me about these commissions. I will also inform you on contact how many slots are open. and if you want to be set on a wait list i will write your contact info down to contact you when an open slot is available.

These Commissions will most likely close once Ravnica Allegiance / War of the spark has started

All Commissions I hold ownership of. in the case of card conversions they will be posted. non-card commissions may be posted upon request or allowance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KO-FI << >> PATREON

IF YOU WISH TO SUPPORT ME AND MY CONTENT YOU CAN FIND ME ON PATREON AND KO-FI BY DONATING YOU GAIN BENEFITS AND ARE ABLE TO VOTE ON PLANESHIFTED CARDS, GETTING A FREE MONTHLY COMMISSION FOR 5$+ PATRONS AND GETTING A FREE COPY OF WHATEVER COMPENDIUMS ARE COMING UP; AS WELL AS EARNING A SPOT ON MY DISCORD SERVER

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Join the Ravnica Cards Converted Discord and come hang out here https://discord.gg/PydYEEY (SERVER LINK)

To contact me directly my name is RavnicaCardsConverted#3451

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now i hope all that wasn't to business sounding and again I must thank you all for your time and kindness, I love what I'm doing and hope to continue for a long while. I would love to hear stories of your games rather or not I affected them or not. I love hearing stories.

Have a good day!

#Commision info #guilds of ravnica #Update #commisions open #dnd #D&D #magic the gathering #Guilds of Ravnice: Converted Compendium

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christinesficrecs · 6 years ago

Text

Lost Sterek Fics

So many lost fics! Please comment/message me if you can help. :)

***

- I’m pretty sure it’s kind of long but I could be mistaken, stiles and Derek have children and at some point their son becomes an alpha and the near the end of the book Derek and his son turn into these giant wolves and fight off a creature that I can’t remember and stiles is really upset about it cause they might never be able to turn back.

- it’s of sheriff spanking stiles and derek is in stiles room listening. stiles goes back in his room and they have sex!!

- Derek was confused by the other bitten werewolves saying things like "the wolf wants" or "the wolf part of me" because he always have been one since he was born a werewolf and never divided himself like that?

- Derek is drunk & thinks that his feelings are unreciprocated& stiles takes him back & tells him that they are not so Derek lines up his fingers with Stiles & counts them to 10,so basically he's saying that he is not dreaming& the feels behind that one!!!

- Derek is famous and powerful & he and Stiles start a relationship. What I remember is one scene in particular where they are being interviewed and they get some judgement because Derek and Stiles are versatile and werewolves consider an Alpha as a bottom a sign of weakness. I remember Stiles & Derek basically rolling their eyes at each other about the stupidity of that while being interviewed.

- Sterek are in love, but so are their kids. So they never get married, (because they don’t want to hinder their kids love) but their kids end up married at the end. (might be a series)

- Werewolves growls all have different meanings. Some generic ones everyone can understand. But some growls you have to know the wolf really well to know what that growl means. Derek has this growl that Stiles doesn't know the meaning of.

- Derek and Stiles are fighting and Stiles says something like "we don't trust ech other" and Derek brings what happened at the pool ans say something like "that doesn't mean nothing to me"

- Stiles is writhing the story of his life with Derek and at the end he write it as if Derek have died in fire and his last words with Derek is something like if I die I lose you and that scare the sh*t out of me or something then he stop writing because his husband -SHOCERK- enters the room and it is Derek

- Stiles and friends cheat at lacrosse to make their families happy. Because they were fired from Hale Company. And Derek and stiles are in a secret relationship?

- Stiles, and the others, end up befriending Erica while Peter is still going around killing people as an alpha. I only remember that Stiles and Erica, with some of the others, were at like a diner? And Peter attacks, and bites, Erica when they leave.

- i’m pretty sure it was a human au that was set in New Orleans. One of them, Stiles or Derek, worked at call center and the other worked at a diner. I think Scott was Stiles’ roommate." & "update i remember that Derek was a 911 call operator and Stiles was the one working as a server at the diner."

- Stiles is magic and when they were lilttleish kids makes Scott’s father go away, possibly forever.

stiles’ mother/grandma always made him a special soup, and he never knew what the secret ingredient was until Derek made it for him the same way, when he realised it was love.

- Stiles and derek are running away together to fight monsters. At some point there was a troll closing up on them and they hid on top of a tree and stiles got loopy?

- Derek and Issac are cops who follows who stiles is an agent gone rogue. I think stiles kills the bad guys in frond of them and saves Derek's life.

- Stiles and Isaac alone in a house and they hear a suspicious noise so Stiles is like we should call Derek but the suspicious noise actually ended up being Derek and he’s proud of them for thinking to call him?

- it's either a season1 or 2 au where stiles and derek enter an arrangement where they sex it up in exchange for derek to try to teach scott werewolfy stuff. i remember at one point danny and stiles talk abt the arrangement and danny later chews derek out abt being more gentle.

- I vaguely recall a season 1 canon divergence where Allison tells the sheriff that Kate has Derek chained up under the Hale house

- Stiles and derek are mates and Stiles goes out of town for a while and derek goes into his wolf form and sort of becomes a bit feral but then stiles comes back and helps him

- derek and stiles are at some sort of searching ceremony esque interview and derek unconsciously flashes his eyes at stiles. Peter explains later in the fic that derek was trying to pique stiles' interest (unknowingly).

- Stiles is patient/test subject on somenkind of shady facility where they do experiments on humans and I think he's been there most of his life. Derek is a new doctor in there and is the first one who is kind to stiles.

- Derek only asked stiles out to annoy Scott, but actually fell for him, stiles over hears Derek and Issac talking about it and I think he leaves for college, I remember near the end that the wolfs did something to his jeep so stiles had not choice to stay at the house to talk to Derek because Derek made a huge mistake and wants stiles back.

- to help defeat the alpha pack Stiles and Allison go to Derek. Derek says he can only do it if they join his pack. Derek proceeds to have sex with Stiles, while Allison has sex with Issac and Boyd. Scott gets pissed, and Allison has Boyd’s babies. I think it’s a series, 3 short fics.

- I'm looking for a fic that has Stiles at a party. I believe he is used as werewolf bait or turns out to be alluring to werewolves and didnt know it.

- I think Derek and Stiles are in a basement under the Halehouse, and because of some kind of moon Derek wants Scott to be in that basement. They make fun of Scott but he hear them and he lock the door when Derek and Stiles are inside. Smut happens

- Stiles being a spark and just learning how to use his powers, Peter Hale is helping him learn when he discovers that every time that Stiles uses his powers he gets aroused and Derek helps him out through it,

- Stiles and Derek are in the woods, and some type of creature makes both of them hallucinate. Derek then attacks Stiles thinking that Stiles is a monster. It was like a horror or psychological horror.

- everyone has a secondary gender (omega, beta, alpha) but there are werewolves as well. Derek is Alpha-alpha, and Stiles is human Omega while Scott turns into Beta-beta. It followed along the first season of Teen Wolf and instead of Derek manhandling Stiles in the show, he grabs his hand and squeezes it. (1/2)(cont) It progresses until Stiles, Lydia and Allison are shopping for formal wear for the dance and Stiles starts to get his heat when Peter shows up and takes them hostage. The end chapter has Derek helping Stiles through his heat as he looks up at the moon with red eyes.

- im looking for this accidental mating fic where scott and stiles are at dereks and stiles accidently mates with derek after he tries to run etc?

- stiles was helping derek with school I think and they got along and one night - stiles had a nightmare I think and was having a panic attack and called derek but didn't tell him about the nightmare and talked about something else and stiles got calmed by derek voice ..

- derek is an alpha and like everyday people try to fight him in order to get his powers? i think they’re all in high school and that stiles is the new kid?

- it’s where derek was at a clinic, and stiles was the one to ‘examine’ him — with sex toys, etc., — on the last chapter, it was established that they were already together and roleplaying. they were in the clinic that scott works at which stiles had gotten the keys to.

- It has two parts. The first involves someone poisoning the wolves so that they'll shift/go crazy. Stiles is in high school and he and Derek drink wine?? The second, the pack goes to college, and Derek breaks up with stiles to protect him. Stiles starts taking pain killers and gets depressed, the Alpha pack shows up, and Peter ends up being evil and trying to kill everyone??

- Stiles kinda is hurting when he has his first time with Derek?

- stiles Accidental Voyeurism on Derek showering and he is nervous because he is nervous to talk to him because he’s just that hot!

- stiles is adopted by the hales I think and Derek figures out he's his mate, I think there's growing up time skips, but the ending is Derek rushing home from college because the Argents are there to start the fire, stiles stays back with Talia to help defend their home.

- it’s girl!stiles and it’s where she has hairy legs and arm pits and just owns herself and she goes on a camping trip with Derek and they’re both naked because they don’t really care for nudity,

- I'm looking for a fic that had Stiles continuously flirting with other people to make Derek jealous after he realizes how good the sex is.

- There is a similar new fic called ‘User Error’ (first chapter looks great), it’s the troupe where Stiles is the brains behind the business and his partner (Scott?) tries to push him out/limit his input, Stiles is hurt but agreed to leave, but not before pulling out receipts of patents and just totally owning the situation, leaving but pretty much taking the rights to everything with him epically schooling those around him.

- stiles goes back in time to before the hale fire and tries to stop it, (fire is on night of a school dance) but he could only save Cora? I think he went be the name Cris or something similar

- Stiles had a boyfriend but he loved Derek and he thought Derek didn't loved him back so he would hide all his emotions from the pack, cause he was in so much pain. And they would fight a lot. I don't know if he was a spark or no.

- stiles and derek hate each other and When they lost their friends they were stuck together to search for them..

- Derek is in heat at the hale house and told everyone to stay away, but stiles didn’t and so Derek kisses him and makes stiles go into a pseudo heat and then they ride it out together.

- stiles finds out that derek has never actually gotten a good blow job bc his peen is that Big™ and he decides to rectify that, and i think stiles find out bc derek never lets him give him one im not sure

- It's an AU where the pack are all friends who are into surfing and are going down the coast (in mexico) finding small beaches and Sterek hooks up but then they get all awkward and depressed until Derek apologizes and clears things up. I remember it had some bi Erica and beach sex.

- I'm looking for a fic where Stiles has trouble accepting compliments from Derek and he buys himself a second-hand leather jacket to feel like part of the pack and Derek compliments it which Stiles thinks is sarcastic because obviously the jacket is old and damaged so basically he thinks everyone pities his loserness. low self-esteem drama ensues.

- I’m looking for a fic where Scott pushes stiles away for his own safety and then stiles befriends Boyd and one day Scott after a fight with some monster? Or big bad of the week? Scott tries to call stiles and his number has changed. Then it’s scott showing up at his house and basically trying to befriend stiles again..I think I remember something about Scott and stiles having plans to blow up stiles piece of crap phone

- a derek hale one shot. the plot is that the reader has a crush on scott and derek decideds to help her forget. i think the fic was called 'make you forget'

#sterek #ficrecs #lost fic

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sladedick · 5 years ago

Note

im just creepin on your twitter (as you do) and i wondering if u would ever write some rastim? bc 👀👀

yes!!!!! sorry this too k so long i love ra’stim owo

noncon/underage/switching/violence/black humor | on ao3

Timothy Drake stares at his American school lunch in the fuzzy security camera. His dark circles are visible under his eyes even from this height, and his hair is visibly unwashed. Equations trail their way up pale arms in smudged ink. He shovels another soggy french fry into his mouth, scratching his armpit with the other hand.

“Are you sure you want that one, Master?” Ra’s’s assistant inquires, standing meekly next to him as he watches the screen.

“You dare question the will of the Demon?” Ra’s booms.

“N-no, master, of course not,” he mutters, looking down. Ra’s turns his attention back to Timothy. He’s facedown in his applesauce, clearly snoring.

“He’s perfect.”

Share the happy news with your detective

“Happy engagement,” Ra’s says. Tim blinks at him.

“To who?”

“To you.”

“I’m not engaged,” he says blankly.

“I am pleased to inform you that you are. To me, the Demon’s Head.”

“No,” Tim declares.

“Yes.” Ra’s’s grin shows teeth.

“No!”

“This is not a discussion,” Ra’s says. “It is the respectful thing to do before I deflower you, Detective.”

Tim makes a disgusted face. “You won’t be ‘deflowering’ me. I had sex with Superboy.” It had been an ordeal. Kon’s Kryptonian dick had gained semi-sentience and tried to lay its eggs in Tim. Turns out Clark hadn’t bothered to give him ‘the talk’.

Ra’s’s lip curls. “How inappropriate.”

“No premarital sex, huh, but rape is a-okay,” Tim mocks.

“Victor’s rights, Timothy.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tim says. Ra’s wags a finger in his face.

“Language, Detective.”

Tim sticks his tongue out. “You can’t marry minors without parental consent. Your marriage is null and void. Ra’s! Ra’s, listen to me, we have to be in Alabama—”

Keep excessive amounts of alcohol away from your detective

The reception is ostentatious, of course.

Ra’s first notices the problem when Tim’s step is slightly halting at the reception, cheeks slightly redder—always red, really, given how pale his skin is even for a European. They’re even red through the several layers of makeup that Ra’s had his servants apply.

Tim gives a lopsided grin, showing off teeth that, until recently, had had braces on them. That’s the second sign something is off. Timothy has been pouting ever since he was kidnapped.

“I want — some more campaign,” he says, quite sincerely. A face, as if he knows that’s not quite right. “Clam pain.” A pause. “Sham veins?”

“Champaign, dear,” Ra’s says softly. Timothy grabs another glass from a passing server before Ra’s can stop it. The reception is ostentatious, and Timothy’s dress is no exception, in lacy whites and pale greens, showing off his body just enough to tell everyone what Ra’s has that they don’t. And how they should be jealous of Ra’s’s high school concubine.

“It’s poor taste to be drunk at your own reception,” Ra’s says.

“Your … fault,” Tim says. He sways slightly. Ra’s catches his arm. “Kidnapped me. Miss my family.”

“You’ll make a new one quite soon.”

“Fuck you. Hate you,” he mumbles. “Don’t wanna get pregnanant. Pregant. Prenengant.”

Ra’s snatches the glass of champagne from Timothy’s hand as the boy slumps slightly against him.

“I insist,” he says coldly, angrily, “that you be conscious for the consummation.”

He takes some pleasure in seeing Timothy’s skin lose its redness for the first time that night, falling away to reveal a pale face. Timothy grabs desperately for the alcohol, but Ra’s whisks it away just in time.

“Absolutely not.”

2. Keep your detective well entertained

“You can’t all be monks,” Tim tries to explain. The ninja sat in a circle around him squint at him through the eyeholes in their masks, heavy armor clinking as they shift. Tim repeats it in Arabic for the two that don’t speak English, and then switches to it for good.

“I wish to be of the shadow subclass,” Ninja No. 3 says.

“As do I,” adds Ninja No. 1.

“The point of Dungeons and Dragons is to be something you’re not. It’s escapism.” The four guards, practically brainwashed into the service of Ra’s al Ghul, stare at him. “Nobody is allowed to be a ninja monk.”

“I will be a warlock,” says Ninja No. 2, waving about the bit of paper that Tim had given him, translated from what Tim remembers of the Player’s Guide. “In service of the great Head of the Demon—”

“This is a fantastical universe. Ra’s doesn’t exist. See? Escapism!” Tim sighs. “If you don’t cooperate I’m going to tell him you were very inadequate and suggest severe punishment.” He stares sternly.

The ninja pale. Tim wouldn’t do that, really, because then they would end up dead. He knows exactly how much influence he has with Ra’s. The threat, however, is still good.

“I will be a fighter,” sighs Ninja No. 2. “In the service of nobody.”

“Perfect!” Tim grins. He feels like he should patronizingly pat their heads, but refrains. That’s the kind of thing they might only accept from Ra’s.

“I will be a sorcerer,” says Ninja No. 4, “who works for only himself, and wields fantastic power.”

Tim nods enthusiastically.

“I will be a rogue,” says Ninja No. 1, “who overthrows his glorious leader and takes his place, murdering his kin and raping his wife—”

“Wait just a second—”

“—and sending all his castles and being to endless ruin, in search of individuality.”

“I mean,” Tim says, “I’ll allow it …”

(Ninja No. 1 doesn’t show up the next week. Neither do any of the others. It wasn’t your fault, Ra’s assures him, though please do not encourage individuality, Timothy.)

3. Be assured your detective is sexually satisfied and interested

Tim sits on one side of the wooden table, idly tracing the patterned texture with one

finger. Ra’s sits stiff and regal as always, a few slips of paper right in front of him. This is obviously a Meeting. Ra’s is always around Tim, but a Meeting is different. Ra’s has something to talk about, and Tim probably doesn’t want to hear it.

“Beloved,” Ra’s says.

“Ra’s,” Tim replies. His voice is considerably cold. More tired.

“I’ve been doing some research,” Ra’s says. “You have been quite uninterested in our sexual activity.”

“It’s because I object to the rape,” Tim says.

“Ah, I think not. I think you’re simply not … stimulated enough. So I found out what you might be interested in.”

“Please don’t—”

The papers are slapped onto the table like a death warrant, and Tim is stared in the face by his last six months of search history.

man turns little brother gay big dick blowjob looks back at him like the antichrist with flaming, doomed eyes. Tim pales. He tries to think of exactly what he’d been searching on PornHero before Ra’s had caught up with him, but his mind is suddenly completely blank.

bears rail twink anal dp rimming glares accusingly at him. Tim knows that Ra’s has a perfectly neutral expression on his face. He always does. But Tim can’t force himself to meet the green eyes, not even on the pain of losing some of his pride.

“And some more enlightening content,” Ra’s adds, putting another piece of paper on the table. Tim can barely bring himself to open his eyes and look.

batman fucks robin hard in the ass, batman and robin blowjob, batmanxrobin—

Tim covers his eyes. He can’t take it.

“You’re particularly understimulated in the bedroom. Would you prefer that I don a suit in the manner of your adopted father? Would you enjoy referring to me as—”

“No!” Tim almost screams. He wants to cover his ears. “Ra’s, please. Please don’t, okay? I’ll be good, okay? I’ll pretend I like getting fucked. Just please stop.”

Ra’s makes a little humming sound. “This is not a punishment, Beloved. I am simply curious.” The rustling sound of papers lets him know what’s going on. “Though perhaps you can explain this? Superboy x reader fluffy love fanfiction?”

Tim turns white.

“I’m going to kill myself,” he declares, and he’s not sure if he’s joking or not.

4. Install safety bars on windows; learn modern youth jargon

“I’m going to kill myself,” Timothy says.

It’s something he says a lot. Quite a bit, really, typically any time something goes even a little wrong. Timothy had explained to him, a sullen glare in his eyes, that it was a joke. Ra’s had eventually been persuaded.

The fact that Timothy is crouched on the window ledge, the mountain wind making long-grown dark hair—tended to with the most expensive shampoos—swirl out behind Timothy, makes the thought of him joking much less likely.

“That is a choice you will regret,” Ra’s says coolly. He could try to grab him, but Timothy would fall out of the window and die anyways. Then when it came time to punish him properly, Timothy could attempt to childishly shift the blame.

Timothy flips him off.

Ra’s raises an eyebrow. “How rude, Beloved.”

“Yeet,” Timothy says. Ra’s assumes this also means I’m going to kill myself because right after Timothy does it, he’s falling through the air. Ra’s doesn’t hear the crack of his bones or see the blood spatter, but he sees the broken body splayed in the snow below, certainly dead.

“How inconvenient,” Ra’s says, to nobody in particular. Except, perhaps, the three guards who monitor Timothy at all times. He makes a mental note to have them executed.

6. Discourage your detective from staging coups

“Fuck,” Tim says.

“Indeed.” Ra’s’s teeth are perfect, pearly white. A wickedly curved sword at his side slowly drips blood into the oceans pooled around his feet, the corpses’ blood eking its way towards Tim’s booted feet.

Tim stomps. Blood splashes, staining the bottom of his robes. “Fuck!”

Ra’s sheathes his sword. The front of his shirt is crimson, showing that he, at least, did not escape unscathed. Tim draws some small satisfaction from that, even though he feels the guards still loyal to Ra’s grab at his shoulders, yanking his arms behind his back and holding him still.

“A valiant attempt, Detective,” Ra’s says. “Next time, I suggest purging your dissenters’ ranks for spies more carefully.” He moves forward, and Tim sags slightly in the arms of the guards.

“I’m sorry?” Tim offers.

“You’re not.”

Tim sticks his tongue out.

7. Properly reprimand your detective

“I’m sorry,” Tim whimpers, head hanging between his shoulders as he stares down at the bed beneath him, fingers curled in the sheets, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

A hand cards gently through sweaty hair. “Shh, Timothy, it will be over soon,” Ra’s murmurs. The back of the boy’s thighs and buttocks are covered in red switch marks, from the birch thing that Ra’s holds in the hand that does not hold Timothy. The skin burns red and pink and parts bleed. Timothy won’t be able to sit down for a month without remembering this.

The next one whips down with a wicked noise. Timothy chokes, spasms, arms shaking. He gasps, tears clinging to his long, pretty lashes like pearls.

“You are free to cry if you like, Beloved,” Ra’s says softly. “Forty out of fifty. You’re almost finished.”

8. Curb attempts to relate to the youth

Ra’s throws his sword. It impales the man through the gut; a wound that will leave him squirming for hours in agony before he finally expires.

“Yeet.”

(Timothy doesn’t speak to him for a week.)

9. Keep track of possessions around your detective

“Is that my cape, Detective?”

Tim wraps the green folds further around himself, his small form almost disappearing inside of it. “Maybe.”

“Are you going to return it?”

The high collar hides Timothy’s face, and slightly muffles his answer. “No.”

10. Take very good care of your detective, and give it nobody else to turn to when it hurts

Timothy’s eyes are wide, blank oceans, full of a sort of pain and sadness that Ra’s knows will pass, but he still almost dislikes seeing in his consort’s eyes. Ra’s’s arm is wrapped around him, fingers splaying dark hair around them, Timothy warm against his chest. His eyes are closed, the two of them wrapped in Ra’s’s cape. Before, Timothy would flinch away whenever he was to be held. Now, he almost begs to be touched with his eyes, even when he is too proud to ask.

A shift of him. Ra’s stays still, doesn’t move, enjoying the fact of Timothy against him. A hand slowly pets his hair.

Something is wet against his chest, where the neck of his shirt is cut down to reveal his chest. Ra’s almost has to pry Tim’s face off of him, and it comes away teary.

“How do you fair, my love?”

A hand rests on Ra’s’s shoulder, pale fingers against dark, tanned skin. The eyes look past Ra’s.

“I hate you,” Timothy whispers. It’s not an accusation. Simply a sad, broken confession.

“I know,” Ra’s says, almost, almost sympathetic.

A pause,

A long, long pause.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and it’s even softer, barely audible. And then he’s diving back against Ra’s’s chest, Ra’s’s head tucked above Tim’s.

“I know,” Ra’s murmurs.

The look in his eyes is the stare of a man who has killed millions, and will kill millions more.

#Anonymous #asks #ra'stim #ra's al ghul #tim drake #fic recs #freak fic #prompts/requests

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panticwritten · 6 years ago

Note

Writing request! Carl and Sawyer (some version of you, I’m not sure where Carl usually fits in) have stumbled into the same dungeons and dragons forum and become closer through battling together (not 100% sure of Carl’s personality, be him not the type for this or totally the type). This can be a silly throw away or warmup up one since it is me.

Okay, so Cherry sent me this like forever ago. I wrote it, they read it because they live with me, but I forgot to actually post it! The name change to Kane is going smoothly, and I’m ready to never think about that asshole as Karl again lmaooooo

So, yeah, Kane and I play some DnD and he’s not subtle about anything ever at all.

I’ll have to wait until after I post this to change the colors of the different people in the text chats because lord knows I look at those strings of chat-text and have a time sifting through it. Homestuck has spoiled me.

Word count: 2270

@asinwolves @avi-burton-writing @infinitelyblankpage @no-url-ideas-tho @jade-island-lives @ravenpuffwriter @spirit-wizard-nerd @steakfryday @alextriestowritestuff @cataclystr0phe @perringwrites @davidvalencia323 @fluffpiggy @dont-trust-the-clogs @authorkimberlygrey @aclassilighthouse @cherrytying

I don’t think Kane knows I know.

If the smattering of ‘kid’ in our correspondences hadn’t tipped me off, it would definitely have been the way he made his character. I doubt anyone else would get the joke or see what he’s doing, but seriously? His character isn’t anything like him, of course.

If he were to be himself, he’d be a tiefling fighter. Either scout (ha) or cavalier archetype. He’d be a faction agent. Making a call between the chaotic alignments might be a shaky one sometimes. His attributes terribly skewed toward charisma and dexterity.

But he’s chosen a true neutral urchin. A mastermind rogue. An eladrin. The attributes are fairly balanced, save for dexterity always hovering above the others and strength a little lacking. Nothing like Kane. Not at all.

No, that’s the point.

He made a character that is exactly what I end up presenting myself as in the damn Cube. How I always play in console RPGs. Behavior just not erratic enough to be chaotic. Snarky and angry, never overtly because of the need to cover every goddamn emotion up. Inconsistent.

I’m not sure when I realized it was him. I thought it might be a member of the Collective when I first got the invitation from an unknown player. With Haz, j355, Hal, and Jax as mods of the server and tag-teaming as DMs, I slowly caught on to Kane’s game.

He’s making fun of me. He must have been playing with this character for some time, with their high level, and I wonder how long he’s been planning this.

It took me a little bit to even realize most of the similarities between myself and the character. My own character, a homebrew ice genesai, a brawler, bonded fairly quickly with them because they’re both urchins and saved each others’ asses when their time in the city overlapped.

He uses my lines, though. The whole ‘I’ll be fine’ shtick and his character has mentioned being a poet several times. After that, it took a few more days of play to start realizing it was him. That it was Kane playing such a long game.

The first time it occured to me, it was a bad call on what the endolin would do. We were looking for the deed to a seemingly abandoned manor. We hadn’t run into anything but low-level scavenging animals. In short, any good player would be a little on-edge and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Halexander (MOD): Alright. The second you both clear the door, it slams shut behind you.Match (SeeSaw): Crap.Videre (ANON): whats in the room?Halexander (MOD): It’s a pretty nondescript room. Pretty small, almost looks like a study with three desks lining one wall and a bookshelf on another. There’s a couch shoved into a corner, looks like it was slept in recently.Match (SeeSaw): Can we roll investigation real quick?Halexander (MOD): Go for it, dude.Match (SeeSaw): 5Halexander (MOD): You notice that, unlike the rest of the place, there’s no dust. The whole room is swept clean of it. That’s it. The epitome of observation.Match (SeeSaw): Okay. Videre?Videre (ANON): nah im goodHalexander (MOD): You sure? Just gonna barge in there?Videre (ANON): the doors locked right what else can we do?Match (SeeSaw): Whatever. I’ll get a closer look at the couch.Videre (ANON): imma look at the closest desk while the kid does thatMatch (SeeSaw): Fuck youHalexander (MOD): I’ll put some form of that exchange as being in character.Match (SeeSaw): GoodMatch (SeeSaw): Now, the couchHalexander (MOD): To clarify, you’re both investigating different areas of the room?Match (SeeSaw): YesVidere (ANON): yeahHalexander (MOD): Excellent.

I was so used to the DMs at least pretending to need time to formulate responses that Hal’s immediate block of text took me by surprise.

Halexander (MOD): The two of you cross the room in different directions, as if by silent agreement. Match is slower, being more hesitant, so Videre gets to the desks first. Before you can do more than peer at the desk, however, there is a cry behind you. The bedding on the couch lashed out and has taken Match captive. Match, a blanket has one wrist and a facemask has bound itself over your eyes due to your proximity when the animation first occurred. Roll Initiative.Match (SeeSaw): Whaaaaat. Not cool. Okay, 16.Halexander (MOD): Enchanted Bedding got 12.Halexander (MOD): Videre?Videre (ANON): am i far enough away that i can stay out of order and keep looking through the drawers?

Uh.

Match (SeeSaw): What the fuck. I’m being attacked here, your rapier would take care of this in like two seconds.Videre (ANON): you dont know that. i have a feeling the deeds in here just give me a minuteHalexander (MOD): You can stay out of the fight if you want, but you still need to roll so we can keep this orderly.Videre (ANON): fineVidere (ANON): 8Halexander (MOD): Thanks for cooperating.Match (SeeSaw): Okay, first off, Match is never going to trust you again.Videre (ANON): he doesnt even know im helping yet. he cant see rememberMatch (SeeSaw): WHATEVERMatch (SeeSaw): Is the blanket pulling on me or just holding me there?Halexander (MOD): It’s tugging something fierce. The rest of the pile of blankets and pillows are writhing as if alive.Match (SeeSaw): I guess I’ll attack the blanket with that dinky little knife.Match (SeeSaw): “you should empty your bag in case you find good loot” THANKS VIDERE NOW I DONT HAVE MY GOOD WEAPONSVidere (ANON): hey you should know better than to listen to me by now kidMatch (SeeSaw): When we finish this, I will find you and kill you.Halexander (MOD): Also canon, in-character dialogue.Match (SeeSaw): YEET, crit. 5 damageMatch (SeeSaw): Don’t think you’re off the hook here, HalHalexander (MOD): I resent that.Halexander (MOD): And that’s including your proficiency?Match (SeeSaw): 6 damage.Halexander (MOD): That’s what I thought.Halexander (MOD): You slash blindly at the blanket. You manage to cut the corner holding you clean off. You’re still blinded, but you’re free to move.Match (SeeSaw): OKAY YEAH I BACK THE FUCK UP AND ASK VIDERE WHAT THE FUCK THEYRE DOINGHalexander (MOD): You stumble back into the door.Match (SeeSaw): Hold up just a fucking second

I scrolled up to reread the chat.

Match (SeeSaw): Can I try opening the door?Halexander (MOD): Unfortunately, you’ve exhausted your turn. The mass of blankets shoots out another piece but cannot quite reach you in its haste. Obviously, you don’t actually see this because: The blindfold begins to tighten around your eyes. That’s it for that, what’s next on the agenda?Videre (ANON): how many of these drawers could i search in one turn?Halexander (MOD): Two.Videre (ANON): how many drawers in each desk?Halexander (MOD):Three.Videre (ANON): ill search two drawers in the first deskHalexander (MOD): Alrighty then. The first drawer is full of vials and tubes. Most of them stand empty, but there is a vial each of blue, red, and orange liquid. The second contains a weathered journal.Videre (ANON): ill snag those three vials and pocket the journalHalexander (MOD):Of course you will.Match (SeeSaw): Can I open the door now.Halexander (MOD): Since Sherlock Holmes over here can’t do much else, I’ll bite. The door, amazingly, shockingly, opens once you manage to find it with the blindfold currently limiting your sight and putting increasing pressure on your skull.Match (SeeSaw): Okay, we’re dumb.Match (SeeSaw): Videre, the door’s open, let’s get the hell out of here!Videre (ANON): im not doneMatch (SeeSaw): Are you serious right now.Halexander (MOD): Better make the rest of your turn good.Match (SeeSaw): K. I cut the string on the blindfold and join that IDIOT at the desksHalexander (MOD): I’m honestly just gonna take that as a free action.Match (SeeSaw): Sweet. Can I search a drawer?Halexander (MOD): You definitely can.Match (SeeSaw): I’ll start on the middle desk, I guess.Match (SeeSaw): I’ll deal with YOU later, VidereVidere (ANON): looking forward to itHalexander (MOD): The drawer holds a dusty lab coat. That’s it.Match (SeeSaw):Why the fuck not, I’ll take it.Halexander (MOD): You done?Halexander (MOD): Just kidding, I know you are. The blanket wraps around your ankle to pull your feet out from under you. Roll for acrobatics to see if you eat shit.Match (SeeSaw): Jesus fuck.Match (SeeSaw): 10Halexander (MOD): You slam your face into the desk on the way down. Take 1d4 damage for that, and your nose is bleeding.Match (SeeSaw): Why are you doing this to me.Halexander (MOD): You chose to let me design this campaign. What did you think would happen?Match (SeeSaw):2Halexander (MOD): While you’re down, another blanket catches you by the wrist. Again. Go, Videre.Videre (ANON): two more drawersHalexander (MOD): The first is full of pieces of metal. Mostly junk, nuts and bolts. The second is empty, so I’ll knock the action down and let you open another one.Match (SeeSaw): IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR HANDS AFTER THIS YOU WILL HELP ME RIGHT NOWVidere (ANON): yeah ill open another drawer. that leaves three left right

They searched every single drawer before helping me, by which time I was almost dead and being smothered by a pillow. They found the deed and I chewed them out on the way back to town. They said they knew I would be fine, they needed to find the deed, and there was no harm done.

Having already seen the parallels this anonymous player was making between their character and myself, I bristled at my computer.

Match (SeeSaw): Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You won’t stay anonymous forever.Videre (ANON): oh im so scaredVidere (ANON): are you gonna come kick the shit out of me over a dumb game? give it up and find something else to obsess over if youre gonna be like that kidVidere (ANON): im just staying in character

And I had a good idea who was on the other side of the computer after that. Especially after I found out he’d done a covert investigation check with Hal instead of sharing with me. He knew there was an enemy in the room before we even entered. Was likely planning on using me as a distraction from the beginning.

The next time he surprised me, we were working for the owner of an orphanage to find ways to exploit parents interested in adoption. Match goes along with it because why not. Also because fuck adults.

But Videre surprised both me and Jax.

Jaxabandit (MOD): u want to what?Videre (ANON): buy the orphanageMatch (SeeSaw): We won’t get paid if you do that.Videre (ANON): im gonna assume that was in character and not in this whole ‘ooc’ space or whateverMatch (SeeSaw): Duh. The guy’s slimy and gross. But just because you have money doesn’t mean Match does. He needs the paycheck.Videre (ANON): think of it this wayVidere (ANON): if dicks like this werent in power match wouldnt have grown up on the streetsMatch (SeeSaw): That’s not how he thinks about shit and you know it.Videre (ANON): and hes not the one holding a huge sack of gold right now

I didn’t know what to think. By this point, I knew it was Kane. The fact that I asked Haz helps, but I know the way he talks to me. He’s the only one that would do this and keep up with it for so long.

So now, I’m not exactly sure what to do.

Match just died, like D-E-D, dead, and Videre is flipping the fuck out. The two of them had become fairly close friends. They were snarky and prickly toward each other, but they were partners in crime and would likely kill for each other.

Videre gets really scary in the final stretch of that fight.

I didn’t realize Kane thought so highly of my intimidation skills. I didn’t think he thought highly of me at all, not outside of work. I was just a tool and a weapon and something to either give orders to or take orders from.

But Videre is a force of nature toward the end. Being a mastermind rogue, they confuse the ice devil as well as fighting it. They show a lot of skill they didn’t before, turning a few unlucky rolls into happy mistakes. Even they seem surprised when they win.

Videre (ANON): wellVidere (ANON): i guess i know what its like to be you nowThe Old Hazzle Dazzle (MOD): Are you done now, Kane?Videre (ANON): wow cats out of the bagMatch (SeeSaw): You’re awful at hiding who you are, though.Match (SeeSaw): Also, you’re an assholeThe Old Hazzle Dazzle (MOD): Did you want to make a new character and keep going? Or call it quits for now?Match (SeeSaw): I think I’m done. I gotta go challenge Kane to a fist fight.Videre (ANON):gotta find me first

- Videre (ANON): has left the chat -

He’ll have to try a hell of a lot harder than that to get out of actually hanging out with me like a person.

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stimmypaw · 4 years ago

Text

stimmypaw reads Shattered Sky, a late tumblr post

I just, forgot to post this for some reason. It’s me writing my thoughts on the third book of A Vision Of Shadows, I also did that with the first and second ones! Very full of spoilers, enjoy!

Omg.....meet Darktail's Kinnies... someone should name their wc kin server that its a great name, most of them seem to have wc names tho I thought he was a whole gang?? Did more of them get wc names or have already than we knew???

Oh no I barely got to see echosong :c I hope the others are okay, frecklewish is a wonderful name

Chapter one they already have all of the clans going 2 fight???? This absolutely won't go well and that terrifies me

Onestar realized Darktail has a beautiful voice :/ and he feels bad battling him /j

Yup just as I expected, awful loss. Plus Twigpaw was sure her sister was gonna kill her which killed Me

Alderheart parent mode

YASSSS ITS TIME FOR SKYCLAAANNNNNN

obviously the clans are pissed why the hell did they have this as a secret bro!!! why?? bramblestar was just ashamed now firestar???? bro WHY i seriously need to read firestar’s quest I just don’t get it

scenes of elders being cared for by apprentices is always so comforting, seeing it being interrupted and taken from violetpaw feels awful

WHO THE FUCK IS THISTLE he isn’t in the allegiances??????????????????? HELLO ah okay the rogues are showing up slowly ok

Violetpaw did a u-turn to her character here it seems?? She didn't find the elders were lecturing her at first, was Darktail's lil speech about how she was brave enough to convince her they are wrong??? A few compliments couldn't possibly be enough for that. Plus again she is seeing Darktail brutally murder someone and how despite seemingly treating each other nicely these cats are ready to betray each other anytime. Surely this would be enough for her to feel like the elders are still right and she can't trust these cats???

Hope she doesn't start seeing this violence as normal

I'm so sorry for blossomfall I can't believe she got with thornclaw of all cats

LIONBLAZE JAYFEATHER CINDERHEART AND TAWNYPELT, ALL JUST CASUALLY LISTENING TO GOSSIP. ABSOLUTELY SCANDALOUS I LOVE THEM

I love like how the book will take breaks every now and then to show for a millisecond ivypool being mad at tigerheart or vice versa and dovewing looking at tigerheart or vice versa and have the POV go "wonder what thats all about" and just proceed with the plot. Wonderful

Twigpaw :c

"A "mrrow" of welcome" has got to be my favorite line on this book

The cats complain there's already enough plots going on.

Whitewing is a very nice background cat and I appreciate her. But God Omen of the Stars only proved Starclan is just a bunch of old dead cats and that can be both good and terrible. Her argument is needed tho.

The others have a point tho, how can they leave the clan with less cats right now? I guess they would come back with more but what if they're not strong enough to defend themselves? A lot of trouble could happen with Skyclan coming as is to the territories and its understandable for the cats to be concerned

Violetpaw and Needletail cope with trauma as best they can and thats not a lot

I hope Violetpaw at least realizes how fucked up it is that they are scared of their leader who is supposedly their kin and the one who they should be the most loyal to

Oh Boy kittypets!

I love kittypets so much they're always fun. Darktail is so creepy tho I read some quotes he said to my girlfriend and she said he sounded like GLaDOS and yeah he's creepy I can feel it without Violetpaw agreeing with me that she's scared of what will happen next. Where did Darktail get that blood thing????

I like Zelda. She seems to be Violetpaw's age I hope she is so they can kiss. ALSO THIS IS KINDA LIKE MENTORING??? Violetpaw should get a warrior name

TWIGPAW PUT A PILLOW UNDER HER BLANKET SO NO ONE WOULD NOTICE SHE LEFT AHAHAHHA I bet she went to find Skyclan didn't she

PURDY

NOOOOOOO PURDYYY NOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

my gf said indigestion can sometimes have those effects on a cat if its really bad i didn't know that

PURDY CANT BE GONE PLEAS

I am SO sad I knew this was coming and I hated it terrible awful

I never saw a vigil so sweet. We Are All Love Purdy.

OH RIGHT TWIGPAW GSGWHAHAH

I appreciate no one is annoyed or pissed theyre all just worried, I am too

Apparently Alderheart and Bramblestar disagree lot? They seem to get along great though. And uh I guess Bramblestar doesn't always take his advice but, that doesn't mean much they like talk about stuff and Bramblestar forms conclusions taking in consideration the stuff his son said and all. Idk, feels like a weird statement Twigpaw something tells me the Erins are failing to send a message somewhere

Fuck I hope someone finds twigpaw soon, her adventure has been fun but I'm terrified for her

Violetpaw seems to be having a hard time too, not only is everything awful and terrible plus we had a time skip of a few days so who knows what happened to Twigpaw. Anyways Violetpaw having to care for Needletail like a mentor is like a young teen having to care for a young adult's mental health and that always sucks for the kid, there's not much else that can be done though Needletail probably doesn't want to worry

Violetpaw :C

This is so sad and terrible, I wish Violetpaw could be with Twigpaw right now she wouldn't be starclan knows where if they were just together!!! I hope the other cats don't start saying nonsense about Violetpaw now. She's scared she won't be accepted in Thunderclan and doesn't see herself as worthy of acceptance, and feels responsible for her older friend. I'm :CC

PAGGDHAHAHA Zelda is a trash cat and I love her

Violetpaw is suffering so much and Darktail is absolutely brainwashing her ass and she can't understand how he is to blame for everything.

Oh boy when she does.

This is such a good story God im like very tired and in need of sleep but I can't stop reading

Oh God so much has happened, this is so terrible, I love that Mothwing and Alderheart are hanging out tho I forgot what a fun character she can be!!!

Thinking about how so much would be easier since book 1 if Onestar agreed to lend a helping paw. Thinking about the begging dying bodies piling up at his door. Thinking about onestar.

Oh scratch what I said earlier guys WHEN VIOLETPAW FINDS OUT DARKTAIL KILLED DAWNPELT OH BOY

Its terrible knowing dawnpelt isn't there and like, so far thinking she was in thunderclan, only to have thunderclan cats wonder if she's in shadowclan like oh God oh fuckle this is IT

I feel so bad for Loki and Zelda :c I would give them treats

What the fuck Darktail

Holy shit Darktail

I am noticing like, cats making seriously spot on assumptions of things that happened out of small information and idk if that really isn't realistic and just a way to make cats realize things or if I'm just too autistic to relate

I'm so glad the medicine cats treat anxiety. Last time I remember that happening was the prophecy begins but I might be forgetting somethin

The fear these cats have of the clans ending feels so real I am absolutely terrified for them and I love it

It doesn't make sense for twigpaw 2 die so I'm not buying it but wow this hurts

Violetpaw time

I am itching for them to find skyclan so bad

Violetpaw you're not Squirrelpaw or Leafpaw in the new prophecy you wouldn't have felt if Twigpaw died :P

Bro Needletail :c I miss when she was a wild free creature

This prisoner smuggling deal is so fun I am absolutely excited about everyone's plans, it can't all go well so soon though.

TWIGPAW YESSSS BABY I MISSED YOU

Twigpaw lactose intolerant moment

omg she had a vision

Vision cat be nice 2 my baby she is dying

TWIGPAW FOUND SKYCLAN YESSSS YES YES YES

OMG......HAWKWING.....AAAAAAA THATS HER DAD BRO SHE FOUND HER DAD IM YESSSS YEAYESYESYEYD

This is so good im so happy

This is so awful I'm so sad WHERES THE CLAN CATS they were supposed to show up when they were asleep right????? Fuck!!!

This is so scary

NEEDWETAIL IM

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Violetpaw definitely could have used a better friend at times, but God was Needletail good im so sad

Bramblestar: alderheart we need a point of view from thunderclan of what's happening so you're coming to the battle

OMG THEY DID IT!!!! I DID NOT EXPECT THAT WROW VERY NICE

Oh this is so exciting, how will they get Windclan back????

Twigpaw baby you always had your place here

I think they should both go to Skyclan but I understand if Twigpaw is indecisive she has always had a good life in Thunderclan.

Nononono Rowanstar, Scourge is the villain from the The Prophecy Begins here, your guy is named Darktail

Ominousnestar

I have been vaguely spoiled about Onestar being related to Darktail but I have no clue how

I can see Onestar's, Smoke's and Darktail's designs rotating in my mind its beautiful

I'm loving this story this is so cool

You dare challenge the warrior cats Fandom?

SKYCLAN, DROP YOUR CATS

RIVERCLAN, GET THE BUCKET

WINDCLAN, GRAB YOUR LEAFBLOWERS

THUNDERCLAN, GRAB YOUR LIGHTNING RODS

SHADOWCLAN, IDK MAN SAY BOO OR SOMETHING AHHAHA

I'm glad this is the prophecy this series really is Tumblr vs 4chan

Oh my god

This is so surreal

What an astounding battle wow and what an ending

I loved it

That was so so good

Everything here was fantastic, looking back its hard to believe they managed to fit so much plot into one book and like the pacing was Very Good this was just good writing wow? The development of Darktail, everything with Onestar, very fun I was on the edge of my seat through the whole thing it was incredibly fun. I’m very excited for what’s to come too, I worry it probably won’t be as fun and exciting as this since they already got rid of the biggest threat, unless they get another, but still like I really wanna know what’s gonna happen with Skyclan! And Violetpaw and Twigpaw!!!! How will the clans cope with all this loss and receive a new clan in the territories??? There’s a lot of good build up that I don’t know if it will live up to all that happened so far, but I think it can be very good and I’m excited, lots ahead of us!!! Oh boy!!

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beauvoyr · 7 years ago

Text

Lazy People’s Club for the Sleepy and Tired | 15

flowering | children of the end of the world

Pairings: Noctis/Reader Genre: Friendship/Romance/Friends-to-Lovers Tags: Fluff, Humor, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Abuse, Torture, asphyxiation, no beta we die like men, pre-Omen trailer route, pre-demon Noctis Chapter Suggestion: Read it on AO3 for cuter formatting during chat sequence. Chapter Rating: T Crossposted on: AO3 Summary: you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You will love him to ruins.

HIS MORNING IS DIFFERENT NOW. Different, as in Noctis doesn’t have to drag himself out of bed at 5.30 just so he’d make it to Gladio’s training session on time. That and he doesn’t have to struggle with rousing the cat from her nap, which is a codename for waking you up and getting a swish of claws in return. These past few days taught him how to dodge unpredictable attacks better than his Shield ever did. Ignis checks up on him at 7.30, giving him more time to grumble about the too-damn-early Contemporary Management class that’s only available at 8.30 only on Mondays and Wednesdays. Noctis picks up on his dull routine of brushing his teeth, yawning under the hot shower, shucking on whatever shirt and pants combo he can locate in his closet, and hauls his backpack with another yawn.

The ride to Lucis U has Ignis filling him in on the council updates, boring stuff that has him yawning four times in twenty minutes of morning traffic, and manages a bleary nod once his Advisor sees him off at Block B. As a senior, most of the fresh-eyed juniors gawk at him the moment he strides through the hallways, scanning the doors for BU 3-1. He’s the prince, he kinda gets that a lot, not that anything’s changed over his entire lifetime. They don’t care about him past his title, and he doesn’t see why he should care either. Noctis occupies the seat farthest from the board, saves some space for Prompto, and checks up on his planner. If it’s up to him, he’d never get himself something as posh as leather-bound, but this was all a conspiratorial gift by none other than Ignis in final hopes that it’d instill some orderly sense into Noctis.

But did it work?

Probably, seeing how he had his final timetable scrawled in one of the front pages in case of discrepancies—

—oh.

Prompto’s not taking this elective with him. Right. He signed up for Media and Journalism since he figured his photography skills would come in handy, babbling all about it when they were filling up the subject registration form last semester. That kind of sucks, now that he thinks about it. If Prompto’s not here, then he can’t steal naps when the lecturer’s not looking. And he can’t skim through the lecture notes Prompto’s jotted down amidst all his lazy doodling. And they can’t coordinate where to grab their lunch because Lucis U’s menu dates back to M.E. 358, all sloppy mashed potatoes and premature beans on every other day, ugh.

Shutting his planner, Noctis slumps over his desk as the other students begin to file in. Some are vaguely recognizable faces, like that guy with the mohawk or that girl with a birdlike laugh, while rest are an assortment of squashed noses and sharp jaws and droopy eyelids, people who recognize him from afar, people who never approach in the end. There is an unspoken line drawn between them and him, separating the prince from its people.

Chin on the scratched desk, Noctis slips out his phone and puts it on silent, knowing the misery of abandonment all too well.

N: hey P: morning noct!!! dude im so psyched for medjourn omg N: lol nerd P: no rly lol P: we’re getting pruvia drusus P: u remember that segment at 9? on 8tv? P: she goes undercover and infiltrates drug cartels, yakuza houses??? badass stuff???? armed w/ only a camera?????

Noctis searches the depths of his head for a semblance of connection to this Pruvia person, finds that he doesn’t even know the channel 8TV exists prior to Prompto’s yammering, and sighs.

N: no idea, sorry P: aw man u missed out big time. she kicks ass P: cuz she’s gonna be teaching us this sem!!! N: what really P: yea man! special contract only this sem and first come first served, limited seats blablabla u know the deal

That mad dash Prompto did just to submit his form at the counter last semester? Bouncing on his feet the moment the registrar gave it a once-over and nodded? And that little fistpump he did at the end of it? Yeah, all of that totally made sense now.

N: is it too late to congratulate you P: naw it’s never too late!!! P: thanks noct!!!!

A loud bang and the lecturer abruptly enters, setting down a folder heavy with paper, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else than here. Noctis shares that sentiment too; he’s starting to miss his bed a little too much. Madam Yoshino Faustus is a middling lady with three large rocks on three different fingers and they glimmer each time she waves her hand about, the hallmark of a nobility gone rogue, throwing out the Lady in her to adopt Madam instead. He’s had her two semesters ago, an encounter in Introduction to Conflict Management that ended with Noctis scoring an A- despite slamming into classes an hour after she started, all thanks to his notorious oversleeping skills. Her squinting sweep over the entire room to take in the faces of her future victims tells Noctis that this semester is going to be even worse than the last one.

“Usus magister est optimus,” her lilting voice begins, and by the number of times she always recited that phrase in every class, Noctis knows it by heart to remember one thing: Practice is the best teacher, a motto she lives by. “All right, let’s do a little roll call, just to make sure everyone’s here today and nobody’s signing for their friends,” she drones on, consulting the name list of those registered under her class, a true veteran who thwarts every student’s attempt on playing hooky. “Albel Williams?”

“Here.”

Noctis turns to his phone when she belts out a few more names.

N: yoshino’s here P: same P: pruvia’s here too omg im pumped

Which means Prompto’s replies are going to get increasingly spaced out by the seconds as he enjoys Pruvia’s class while his best friend is withering away here. Great. Resigning himself to enjoy his own company, Noctis logs into King’s Knight. CONNECTING TO SERVER circles endlessly on his screen with pixelated Ray Jack, Kaliva, Barusa, and Toby marching to the beat, brandishing their weapons. After what seems to be minutes—when it’s only seconds, really, Noctis tends to exaggerate when it gets boring—he’s all logged into the game, scrolling through the dev notes and checking today’s quests. He harvests his Zell trees for free cash, a thoughtful gesture once-per-day meant to aid the newcomers, and then he goes to his FRIEND screen, where—

“Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum?” the lecturer calls out in a tone that suggests she sees him with his phone out. “Are you with us?”

Prince. Right. He really needs to make a special decree just for stopping people from calling him that in class. Noctis straightens up his slouch, looks her in the eye like a dutiful student and the proud son of King Regis, doing his perfected princely nod. One sharp bob of his head, not a timid two. “Yep.”

Something about her adjusting her eyeglasses begs to differ, but she exhales all the same and moves on. “Noleva Mai?”

—he taps to his messaging application and tries to hide his grimace.

N: yoshino saw me texting RIP P: yoshino more like yoshiknows

Noctis resists the urge to snort out of the imminent knowledge that Madam Yoshino might start chucking markers at him like all teachers do in anime, and sends out a last message.

N: lol catch you later then N: have fun with pruvia P: thanks noct! P: u have fun w/ yoshi-no-no too!!!

Swapping back to King’s Knight, Noctis checks on his mini friend list. There’s Prompto but he’s offline, as expected. Gladio’s never online unless Noctis is the one badgering him to go on a raid with him and Prom, so Barusa’s all greyed out on the screen like Prompto’s Toby. He scrolls a bit more, searching for a glowing Kaliva rocking a skull-tipped weapon and oozing sheer badassery, but. It’s all greyed out too.

Well. He didn’t expect that.

The lecturer’s already scratching her name on the whiteboard and it reads Madam Yoshino Faustus in case anyone’s a newbie, then she’s already jumping into the first chapter listed in the pro forma because that’s how seniors roll on their first day in the final semester, all badass and probably dying by the end of the term. Noctis swallows a groan, watches Madam Yoshino put up some drab slides of black text on white background, and turns back to King’s Knight.

It probably doesn’t hurt to text you before he puts his phone away.

TO: THE ARCHITECT FROM: NOCTGAR SUBJECT: [none] MESSAGE: wake up.

He only hopes you’ll get back to him soon enough.

the jump from high school syllabus to university courses is something most people spend an average of a month to synchronize with the rhythm of building properly cited reports and bookmarking journal archives on their computers. you are fourteen and you only had a week. a week of the pinch-faced man running his fingers over your documents before handing byron your necessary textbooks, listing out your learning outcomes from the top of his head, and diving headfirst into your workload. he is only paid to teach you, not to make you understand, so he packs his briefcase by eleven and leaves for his next lecture on campus.

this is how you learn.

at six you rise, eating breakfast thirty minutes later. by seven you are dressed and sitting at your desk, reading your texts in advance before the lecturers arrive. eight a.m. they enter, an assortment of he, she, they, names you do not memorize. lessons end thirteen hours later, interspersed bites of meals squeezed in between your lecturers’ arrival. byron cleans as you wash up, readying a dinner that you nibble in between glances of your assignments. the clock chimes twelve. sometimes you sleep on your books. most of the time you do not sleep at all.

flipping through ancient solheim and decoding the dead language, you occasionally catch yourself muttering under your breath. “i’m an idiot. i’m an idiot. i’m an idiot.”

byron stops fiddling with his feather duster and corrects you softly, a pitiful look in his silent eyes. “to me, you are the most intelligent person i’ve ever had the honour of meeting, milady.”

what good does intelligence bring you? it is a word that has lost its meaning. intelligence bring you crippling thoughts of no i can’t do this no i don’t want to do this anymore no i want to stop please. intelligence makes you jump at every passing minute, dreading the moment he she they step in, posing a question designed to unveil your idiocy. intelligence has your bed collecting dust, dust that byron obediently expels with zeal.

so tell me, what good does intelligence bring me?

you must’ve vocalized the question, for byron shakes his head and corrects you again. “milady, i never had the chance to go to school.” he meets your eyes like it is the most natural thing for a twenty-seven-year-old man to remain uneducated, while you are fourteen and too educated for the world to appreciate. “one of the men i worked with taught me to read and write, then basic maths once i know the difference between bemused and amused. my first salary was only 50 gil, so i spent some on books and veggies, and saved the rest in my tin can. by the time i had close to a few hundred gil in my savings, i bought this beautiful leather-bound diary and a pen i saw in this stationery shop, and taught myself some cursive from the old man at the bus stop.” with a voice that doesn’t quite match the melancholy on his face, he turns his back to you and resumes dusting your bookcase. “so please, do not think so lowly of yourself. you are worth so much more to me.”

all at once, you are ashamed. ashamed of yourself for whining at him for the scratches on your palms when he has welts on his body. you are fourteen when you realize you are blessed in all your misery. while it doesn’t make things any better with father pretending your existence is nullified, nor does it have the manservants respect you any better, you have byron.

byron who has nothing else left in life than you.

NOCTIS QUICKLY COMES TO THE CONCLUSION that the final semester sucks.

Four days. Four days is all it takes for Noctis and Prompto to find out that downing 12 cans of Ebony in 3 hours will send Prompto into a twitchy mess, then embarking on an adventure with marathoning four whole seasons of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure blasting from the TV. Ignis isn’t quite pleased to find his stashed Ebony raided with no cans left to spare, though he refrains himself from berating them when they’ve finally finished compiling the report and slides for Strategic Management, a compulsory core unit both he and Prompto couldn’t ward off with credit transfer. Ever dutiful, Ignis takes up the task of sweeping pizza crumbs under the sofas, separating cans of energy drinks from plastic bottles for recycling, and pulls his sleeves to his forearms, banishing grease from the plates.

By the time Friday rolls around, Prompto’s draped over the cushion, a fine imitation of a corpse. Noctis, on the other hand, doesn’t recall how exactly he found his bed—or rather, his arm found it while he died on the floor. Over a box of cereal and some morning Malboro cartoon, they both agreed that the first week is shit—“Is that why all our ex-seniors looked like they died three years even before their final sem started?” Prompto asks aloud, then bursting into melodramatic tears when Noctis, in stately somberness, nods—and consoled each other with Ignis’ freezer-wrapped meals. When dusk falls, Noctis catches up on a solid fourteen more hours of sleep, while Prompto finally went home for the first time in decades.

Saturday. Ignis, bless him, decided to let Noctis sleep in a little past ten a.m. and only woke him up once it shows eleven on his watch. Gladio wants all of them back in the training hall for some ‘relaxed sparring’ to ‘polish on teamwork’ after ‘taking a long break’, a lie that Noctis could smell even if the Citadel’s miles and miles away from his apartment. Still, they picked up an unwilling Prompto from his house, sat through the crawling Insomnian traffic, reverse-parked in the prince’s underground bay, and ended up in the training room all the same.

Prompto is the first one to throw the door open, all singsong. “Gladi—oh.” And then he stops short. His hand falls off the doorknob like it burns him, jammed right in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Wow, uh. Hey. Architect. Hey, uh, Architect’s butler…?”

Ignis is only a step away from Prompto, a gentle hand landing on Prompto’s back to guide him into the training hall, spurring him out of his statuesque stand. The blond awkwardly slinks in with the Ignis in tow, who is all serene calmness even though he’s surveying the floor in great interest behind his spectacles. He, too, waits for an answer.

“Byron the butler, in case you forgot,” the mess of white offers, all smiles.

Something about that has Prompto paling faster than slapping a monochrome filter on a picture. Blue eyes are skittish, darting from one side to the other as he pulls the worst kind of smile that’s undoubtedly jumpy. “Uh. Right, Byron, nice to see ya again. And uh,” he nods over to the last party member, “who’s that guy?”

“Nyx, Nyx Ulric,” Gladio answers from the other end, as gruff as always. “Noct, get your ass in here so we can start.”

He can definitely count on his Shield to be an ass about this. “Shut up, I know.”

So. What Noctis sees once he finally reaches the hall are four people. It’s hard to miss out Gladio, so naturally he’s the first person Noctis picks out from the floor, a crooked grin on his scarred face as he waves them in. As much as Noctis doesn’t want to see your butler again, Byron’s there for who knows what reason, substituting his fitted suit for a sharp ensemble of button-up shirt and khakis. There’s also some uniformed Glaive seated cross-legged beside him, all handsome ruggedness with his hair slicked back, trailing down his shoulders in little braids. Presumably the one called Nyx, since nobody else fits that description. He has the look of a predator if Noctis doesn’t know any better, minute tattoos dotted under his eyes, and decked in too much leather to be just a normal guy.

Noctis lets his blue eyes stray from the stranger and drift up grey sweatpants and a shirt too loose, clothes that he’s long accustomed to. You. For some reasons, when he sees the smallish smile gracing your face and the familiar glaze in your eyes when he meets your gaze, something stirs in him. Something like a bad stomachache—no, that’s not it. Something like overeating and getting nauseous—no, that’s not it either. It’s something knocking inside him, asking to be heard, except he has no idea what it is. But it makes him conscious of the way he’s returning your look with a slight wave—then turning it into some weird wilting of his fingers once the deed’s done—and then turning into an awkward rub of his nape.

At any rate, he joins all of them on the floor, sitting in a crude circle, feigning ignorance at your keen peeking every once in a while. It’s not like he hasn’t been talking to you in these past few days and it’s not like he’s ignoring you on purpose, Astrals no. Classes have been hard, sure, but King’s Knight bridged the gap between his physical distance with you. You texted him your training regimen, he texted you his day, you gave him pointers on how to draw up a report that netted him Madam Yoshino’s compliments, and he shared some room IDs for you to join his raids with Prompto. Normal, casual interactions, no red sirens anywhere, so he shouldn’t be on red alert like this. But it’s all a lie. If anything, it’s the way things are going that makes him a little too hyperaware of that persistent knocking in him each time he ignores your fleeting peeks.

Maybe he’s just thinking too much about this.

Things are normal. Things are casual. Things have been both normal and casual.

But things are different with how you’re here with Byron, finally giving up on catching his attention and turning to that Glaive instead.

Your friendliness is infectious and it doesn’t help that Nyx practically established no walls with you. He murmurs something, you listen, he murmurs a bit more, then you stifle a laugh behind your hand. Thankfully it hasn’t devolved into anything remotely touchy-feely that would’ve trespassed some borders for Noctis, but it sure as hell looks like the guy is a long lost friend catching up to years and years of chatter. And you’re all too honest with your feelings these days, smiling that same smile of yours at Nyx. That very same smile you were once reluctant to share with anyone else but him.

Noctis turns away, picking off the little thoughts overrunning inside like they’re ants swarming a crumb.

He’s being ridiculous. That’s what it is. He should be proud of your progress in making friends instead of feeling like he missed out on something in the days he hadn’t spent by your side. This whole thing is just all in his head and he should forget about it. His eyes drag over the opposite end where you sit, tracing over the docile quirk of your lips as words are whispered to Nyx, who turns it into a joke of some sort for you to laugh over. The searing flash jolting up his nerves is immediate, forcing Noctis to look away.

Yeah, he should definitely forget about it.

Gladio finally steals the moment by clapping once and Noctis is more than willing to fix the Shield his attention to end his thoughts. “All right, listen up. First off, meet Ulric. He’s a senior member of the Glaive—Kingsglaive,” Gladio tacks on a bit of an explanation once Prompto goes bug-eyed at the new term. “Elite soldiers who risk their lives to protect Lucis, Prom. They’re war veterans out there, fighting to keep people like us safe in Insomnia.”

“Too much credit, Gladio,” Nyx counters, sounding modest even if the mischievous grin on his face never went away. “Just doing my job. You guys must be the Prince’s entourage; Prompto Argentum,” he starts from clockwise, “Ignis Scientia, and His Royal Highness, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. Pleasure to meet you all.”

As Prompto and Ignis echo some pleasantries, Noctis can’t even bring himself to nod. Glaives are part of his dad’s legion of protectors even if the Crownsguard are bodyguards for the royal family. At the first signs of Niflheim’s forces stirring unrest outside Insomnia, the Glaives are the frontliners fending them off. On days they don’t get any action, Noctis knows some of them are tasked with tailing him from afar if he’s out in town, harnessing the power of the Crystal through his dad just to make sure they remain out of sight by scaling walls and such.

So what’s he doing here?

Unfortunately, Noctis finds no answer as Gladio moves on.

“And this guy right here,” the Shield thumbs at Byron, who’s gone ahead and braided his hair out of disinterest at the droll conversation, “is Byron, the little lady’s butler. Think of him as the older, pissier Iggy.”

“Flattered with the description.” Unconcerned, Byron continues braiding his ponytail like it’s the most natural thing to do, elegant fingers deft with its handiwork and twining one lock after another. You hide a smile behind your fingers, though it doesn’t escape Byron’s watchful eyes as he huffs not unkindly. “It means there are at least four levelheaded people in this ragtag band of,” he searches the ceiling for answers, “young adults. Young, moody adults.”

Is that a jab at him? Whatever it is, it has Noctis scowling after taking the bait, arms crossing over his chest. “As if you’re not a young adult yourself.”

Byron makes an expression of dramatized outrage, clicking his tongue like a mother hen, severely scandalized at the thought. “What a compliment, I must appear younger than I look. With all due respect, Nyx and I are the only full-fledged adults around here. We’re both well over our thirties.” He draws up his chin in disdain, sneering Noctis’ way. “The lot of you are simply children to us.”

Thirty—Noctis almost sputters at the words crossing his mouth, but Prompto groans and presses a hand to his forehead. “Gladio’s right,” he grumbles, “Byron is an older and pissier version of Ignis. Ugh, talk about two Iggies.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” says Ignis ruefully. He gestures to the rest of the members of this odd gathering, himself included, and inclines his head towards Nyx—who, by now, is already taking in their exchange with a wry grin of his own. “Do forgive them, the children can be quite excitable in presence of new companions.”

Nyx props his head up and clears his throat, eyes bright. “Nah, not at all. Just happened to be assigned for patrolling in my new roster and heard loud noises—weird loud noises,” he corrects himself, nodding your way, “and the rest is history. Nowadays I just check them out every now and then to make sure they’re not getting into trouble.”

“You got the small kid to blame for the weird loud noises,” Gladio heartily thumps your back as you vibrate from the sheer force of it, scowling Byron’s way.

“Well, I wouldn’t have made those ‘weird loud noises’ if someone wasn’t trying to detach my spine from my hip.”

Byron deflects your lethal glare with the look of a customer service representative sent to deal with a particularly pesky customer, never once acknowledging the blame. “Milady, you’re as flexible as a plank. You need to stretch more.”

“Pretty sure there’s a difference between helping and attempting murder,” you rebuke as Gladio turns his sympathetic back-patting into comforting head rubs instead. “What if I broke something and had to go to the ER?”

To which the shameless butler rolls his eyes and pretends examining the twines to his braid a far greater issue than your metaphorical dislocation. “You’re being overdramatic. Nyx, do me a favour as a fellow old man and tell her she’s being overdramatic.”

“I’d say no to the part with the old man,” Nyx shrugs at the betrayal, “but yes to the overdramatic part. It is what it is.”

Hopelessly ganged up by the two men, you sulk under Gladio’s petting and wither. “Gee, thanks guys. Real nice of you.”

Ignis surveys the friendly banter with raised brows, though he ventures no further on the matter. Prompto looks like he doesn’t know if it’d be his place to join in when Byron’s involved, and Noctis kind of gets what he’s thinking. The last time Byron meddled, things ended as well as someone’s funeral. Their collective silence works out for Gladio since it gives him a chance to lay out his plans for the day, starting from the not-so-subtle looks he’s been tossing Noctis’ way.

“All right guys, enough chitchat,” Gladio brings everyone to attention once again. “The reason why I called you all here today is because,” he gives a sharp look to Noctis, “Noct, we’re gonna give it a shot with attuning her to magic today, see how well she takes to it, and decide where she goes from there.”

And Noctis couldn’t help the way his brow arches automatically at that. “So that’s why you called me out here?”

“Ya got any other sibling out there who’s also the prince?” Gladio scoffs. “Of course you gotta do it, dumbass, she’s yours.”

His, huh?

That sounds nice for a change.

“Ohhhh boy, I’ll go grab The Bucket™ real quick,” Prompto groans, dragging a hand over his face as he scrambles to his feet. Met with your confused gaping, he only finger-guns your way and flits from the circle, rushing towards the showers. Cue clanging sounds, startled jumps, and epic sounds of scuffling before the blond emerges with a steel bucket dented at the side. He sets it down in front of you coolly, much to Nyx’s amusement.

And you’re all but fingering the suspiciously empty bucket at the rim, stumped. “What’s this for?”

Noctis knows what that’s for. Hell, Ignis and Gladio were both well-acquainted with The Bucket™ at some points, but they’re very much disinclined to acknowledge The Bucket’s™ existence since all it does is bring back bad memories. Bad memories of puking uncontrollably, Ignis wiping his mouth and hunching over The Bucket™, Prompto dropping dead into a faint after just touching Noctis, and The Incident That Must Not Be Named™ involving Gladio stumbling like a newborn anak fawn all across the training hall.

Well. This should be interesting.

“Not everyone can handle magic, even in trace amounts,” Nyx explains much to your gratification, fingernail tapping against the steel handle knowingly. It sets you into a mode of perpetual alarm, breathing shallowly, and Nyx chuckles even louder. “Calm down, you’re not gonna die or something. The worst that could happen is puking,” he lists off his fingers, “fainting, disorientation, or maybe all three.” He stops at the sheer horror crossing your eyes, shrugs, and finds it appropriate to add, “For a few days, I guess. We still have newer Glaives who puke when they land after warp-strikes, so that’s another case. Can’t get used to the thing if you don’t practice daily.”

Usus magister est optimus, the Yoshino in Noctis parrots. Practice, practice, and more practice. Practice even when he’s sick, practice even when Gladio served his ass in three different flavours, and practice even when his legs had failed him.

“Warp-strike is the thing where,” you chew on your bottom lip, all frowns, probably recalling the number of times he inadvertently showed you the move through his many practices, “you kind of throw your weapon somewhere and just—just end up warping there, right?”

Huh. Noctis just can’t help but to nod along when you throw a furtive glance his way as if confirming that’s the thing, right? At least you had been paying attention to him, that’s for sure. His skin prickles at the intriguing thought.

“All Glaives can warp since we utilize King Regis’ magic, and he’s strong enough to lend us his strength. Think of His Majesty as a conduit, it’s easier that way.” Nyx tilts his head over, lazy eyes ghosting over Noctis. His hardening stare threatens to expose him, yet he says nothing and is content to pick up the briefing where he stopped. “His Highness over here is also another conduit, but he’s only serving his retainers for now. So if you wanna get good, get practising.”

“It’ll also help if you haven’t had your breakfast,” Ignis points out, a knowing glint in his eyes. That’s definitely talking from experience right there. “If you’re rather famished by now, then it might be wise for us to begin right away.”

Byron finishes his braid with a bauble hair tie procured from his pocket, snapping it into place. He cycles through everyone’s expression for digestion and comes to a conclusion. “Since that’s everyone’s consensus, then we should start, milady. The sooner you start puking, the better, since I can clean up your mess before I start on lunch.”

“Someone has his priorities right,” Ignis agrees, meeting Byron’s eyes with a grateful nod sent his way, and Six, is his Advisor seriously getting along with the creep for your butler? Today is so not Noctis’ good day. “Come along now, Noct, hold your hand out to her. And you, Architect, do us all a favour and give Noct a hand.”

Prompto hoots and slaps Ignis’ back, who looked oddly pleased with himself for thinking up that one. Ugh. Whatever. He needs to get this over with. Noctis scoots over to where you sit at the same time you shift closer, both meeting at the halfway point. With all his friends and some random Glaive grinning wildly at the side, it feels a bit weird to do this—but not in the way where it’s getting uncomfortable—just slowly getting there, somewhat. It’d be better if he had some privacy in the first place for concentration, but he can’t be too picky with how the circumstances are playing out.

Theoretically, the Crystal’s magic seems can be condensed into the simple concept of eating. Right now, he’s simply letting you have a taste of the magic, just a lick or two for your tongue to learn the flavour. Later on when you’re much better off at it, you’d be able to eat all you want through him if you’d like it. And him? He’s not the one eating from the Crystal. The Crystal is the one eating him like how it ate his dad alive.

Everyone knows how it is, everyone saw how he hobbles with a cane for a crutch.

The spiderweb spreading on his father’s right, uprooting the little pale canvas he has to offer, says enough to Noctis that the doctor isn’t going to announce his cause of death as a natural cause. What little magic Noctis could afford to channel to his friends isn’t enough to let him share his dad’s burden. But he’ll get there sooner or later once the ring is sitting on his finger, once his friends are part of the council, once you’ve succeeded your father.

To start that off, you need this.

You need him.

Noctis holds out his hand to you, the standard procedure of channeling the Crystal’s magic through him as the conduit, and he can’t say he’s surprised when a familiar ice grazes his palm. Fingertips, as cold as The Glacian’s touch. He’s felt this before. The first time you brought his hand up to your face, letting him wrap his slim digits around your neck, icy manacles of your hands draining the warmth from his wrist. Do you still remember that day? He can’t tell, not when you’ve gone ahead and wiped the emotions clean from your face, slotting your palm over his.

“How romantic,” Byron drawls. “Romance movie of the year, ten out of ten.”

Gladio snickers and that asshole for your butler is smug with his achievement of riling the prince. Noctis makes a mental checklist to deck Byron later, just to demonstrate why he’s the Prince of Pain. Unaffected, you just side-eyed Byron as though you’re long used to his assholery, turning back to a pink-dusted Noctis. “Don’t mind him, Prince, he’s always a jerk.”

“Glad you’re suffering with me right now,” he snorts, earning some sort of a quiet huff of amusement under your breath. Once the racket settles down, he closes his eyes and lets the darkness reach out to him. Time to get his act together; it’s been a while since he’d done this. Hopefully soon enough, he’ll get to guide you through this without messing up. “All right, first thing you wanna do is close your eyes.”

“Ugh. Cliché.”

“Shut up Byron,” he hears you chide, Gladio cackling appreciatively at the unnecessary commentary. “Ahem. And then what, Prince?”

“Uh. Make yourself calm, at ease. Stuffs like that.” Totally not helpful, not that he’s good with words, but he’s been told that’s how it goes the last time he did it with Prompto. “When you feel calm and focused, then it’s a lot easier for you to reach out and feel things.”

“I…dunno Prince, all I’m feeling is how warm you are.”

That’s it? He must’ve been out of practice over all the months, damn. He catches Gladio muttering she said warm, huh? somewhere to his side, probably to Byron, and your butler’s snickering at you and him, totally getting a kick out of this. Champions of backseat everything, his friends. And your butler too, can’t forget about that. What are they, prepubescent kids? Clearing his throat, Noctis tries again, curling his fingers over the back of your hand. “Okay, try to concentrate on picking up something. Anything. Not the noise, not the warmth, just—“

“—like you’re trying to grab fish in the river,” Prompto pipes up to his left.

“No, it’s different,” Ignis points out, “it’s a transient feeling unlike any other. Almost like oxygen, it’s there, but it’s not seen to your eyes. Yet, it has always been there from the start.”

Noctis cracks his eyes open just a sliver before closing them again. “Guys, not helping.”

“Think of electricity,” Nyx supplies helpfully, and that’s more of an accurate description of the Crystal’s magic more than he could ever describe to you. Leave it to the pros to tell you how it is. “Flash of electricity, tingling under your skin and in your nerves. There should be a buzzing sound if you concentrate hard enough, and that’s the sound the Crystal makes. Like someone humming off-key, enough to make you aware of its presence, but low enough to fade into background noise. Think of blues and violets, if the colour helps you to imagine things. Put together that feeling and the electric colours when you search deep inside yourself.”

His lengthy explanation has you tightening your hold on Noctis’ hand, seizing him softly. In this darkness, he sees nothing. He hears nothing, once everyone falls wordless. Just like this, true to Nyx’s words, the Crystal’s distant hum beckons him, speaking in tones unintelligible to the human ears. The Crystal sustaining protection in Insomnia, the duty he carries as a prince to his people, everything as the Astrals ordained, bestowing salvation upon mankind, and so much more. Spikes of electric magic whizzes past, an ECG reading peaking from a flat, amaranthine bursting into blue—

—you squeeze his hand until pinpricks of pain sets in, and a gasp.

Noctis opens his eyes just in time to catch the dusts of magic reflected in your eyes—only, they are not blue, not his blue.

They are an infernal scarlet searing the blacks of your pupils.

He’s never seen that before.

And when you fall, he almost forgets to catch you.

titan, the archaean, steadfast as stone. ramuh, the fulgurian, sharp as lightning. shiva, the glacian, gentle as snow. leviathan, the hydraean, relentless as tides. bahamut, the draconian, unbending as iron. ifrit, the infernian, fickle as fire. since time immemorial, they have watched over eos.

cosmogony; the hexatheon.

EVERYTHING IS BURNING. The ground, the trees, the skies. Darkness and dust intermingle, clouds of smoke choking your mouth, scorching your lungs. Dry air strips moisture from your mouth. Nothing is alive, everything is razed to the ground. An abject sight of flames fanning over the hills, smothering steel into liquid. The blistering heat stings your skin and beads of sweat roll off your chest, but you do not care. Not when euphoria courses through your veins, rattling your fingertips with the intoxicating feel of victory. You throw your head back, scanning the melting horizon, searching for survivors that you know there wouldn’t be any.

You’ve made sure to eradicate every single one of them.

Down to their very last breath.

Wood crackles with fire gnawing through its crusty flesh, felling branches here and there. There is a sound, a displaced sound different from the rest. Footsteps. Heavy, booted footsteps, an uneven gait you’ve come to love and revere. You do not turn when arms snake around your waist, pulling you against a wall of bare chest. Liquid heat on your back, grimy hands leaving smudges of black across your torso, laving your flesh with ardent skims of flat palms and fingertips tracing circles on your skin. Something grazes your nape and ever pliant, ever worshipful, you tilt your head aside, broken, exposing your neck.

Dry lips descend on your skin, followed by a sharp nip of teeth, marking you.

This, right here in his arms, is where you belong.

Marked. Safe. His.

“We did it,” he murmurs throatily, and you groan your approval when his touches turn desperate, when his nips turn into bites, “we stopped them. You and me, just the two of us, we took them down.”

“Yes, yes we did,” you whimper, finding it hard to concentrate when he thumbs at your waistband, toying with the elastic. He restrains you tight, just like this, almost punishing in his strength—not that you mind it. You love it. You love him for the warning scratch of his fingernails digging through your skin, red welts rising from your unbroken skin. You love him for the way he runs his tongue over your earlobe, nipping at the shell, breathing hard in your ear. You love him even when he lunges a trident through a beautiful blonde, spattering her blood across his cheeks.

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling with a ragged breath. “I love you.”

You know he means every word, for he loves as easily as he kills.

Eyes lidded, head resting against his chest, your hands dance across his fraught forearms and tangle with his fingers, filling in the gaps in between. This is a space made for you, meant for you, and nobody else will hold him like you do. He loves you. He completes you. He is you. Slowly bringing his hands to your face, you leave kisses on the bruises littering his knuckles, reverent. He is your Eos, he is your God, he is your King, and he is your Prince. He moulds you by his own two hands, filling the cavity with flowers for your lungs and honey in place of your blood. He deserves this corpse you call your vessel, down to your very last breath.

I love you is on your tongue, licking a stripe across his finger.

And he knows you love him too.

Turning in his arms, you crane your head to meet his heady gaze. Oh so wrecked, he stands stoic as his eyes bore into yours. Your sweet, wretched prince. Mirrored by the flames, there is a corrosive yellow to their quality, eroding his innocence. There is nothing innocent about him anymore. Gone are the Galdin blues; he has the eyes of the gold coins lost in the sea, a ring of scarlet rimming the edges. He’s beautiful, just as beautiful as the fire he starts. You cup his blood-crusted cheek and he leans into your touch, long black lashes fluttering in bliss, breathing his approval. His hand joins yours, holding you in place.

This is the world you ruined together with him, and there is no place better than Hell for the damned.

there once lived a man, born to a mortal but blessed with powers divine. conjuring a collection of glaives he dispelled the darkness plaguing our star. as a reward for his efforts, the god granted him a holy stone—the crystal, which he was to guard at all costs, for it would one day choose a king to see us through the coming disaster and lead us to salvation.

cosmogony; the crystal.

THE GLAIVE KNEW. Just one look and he knew. Noctis knows that look from anywhere—it was the same look everyone had when he strolled along in wheelchair, head downcast, never acknowledging the sympathy in their eyes. The fact remains that he isn’t as strong as King Regis to grant his entourage the same strength and magic the Glaives enjoyed. Yet in an effort to save face, Nyx withheld the judgment of a pro and offered your thoughts something else to ruminate. But what’s done is done. Noctis knows where he stands and it will never be on the same pedestal as the rest of the Glaives.

In the beginning, all was well. He was a child, but he was a prince, first and foremost. Afforded the luxuries many couldn’t ever since he could remember, but never the freedom other children had. “A prince shouldn’t dillydally shillyshally,” his tutor would click her tongue in disdain, brandishing a pen this way and that, marching up and down his room as Noctis pretends to be deeply engrossed in Lucian history just so she’d fade into a blur like one of the many wallpapers in his room. They all come and go just to stuff him full of knowledge as if education is a simple process of boiling textbooks into soups for him to devour. No matter how much they bore him to tears, they’ll never admit what they see: A young prince, hungering for the sun on his skin than the pages on his fingertips.

But he was weak.

After all, princes have to follow their father’s steadfast steps.

So what good was a prince who couldn’t walk?

Noctis has his back to the icy wall, but the scar on his spine burns white hot. He could just reach for it if he wants, searching under his shirt, feeling for the ridge where skin turns plastic.

Marilith.

His first taste of death came in a pool of red. Then came fear, shrouding him unlike any other fear he conquered. This was the monster under his bed, and it came for him. This was what it meant to be the prince of a kingdom, a price he paid in blood. This was death, and it wanted his life. The Crownsguard were diced into proportions by the Marilith’s blades, their coffins being the cars they drove in. Dying in place of the prince was regarded as the utmost honour one could hope to attain, but what good will a gold medal do to an empty coffin whose mangled corpse couldn’t even be retrieved? Nothing.

Things could’ve been different had Noctis not encountered that daemon. He replayed this scenario repeatedly, holding up the record to the sunlight to examine it in different angles as though a newer truth might unveil itself and undo what has been done. In another world, he never would’ve had to be wheeled around as an invalid, shoulders bearing the sympathies of many. Queen Sylva is never a casualty and Lunafreya wouldn’t be robbed of her parents, of her brother’s independence, leaving her as Niflheim’s prisoner. He never would’ve pushed everyone away just so they’re safe, safer where they are not a smudged scarlet on the floor. His nanny was an unforgettable example.

Anyone and everyone serving the royal line will be sacrificed for his safety. The Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive, the militia and the mass, all reduced to one thing: A fodder for his safety. Including his retainers, his friends. Ignis, Gladio, Prompto.

Ignis had been a staunch devout of an educationist in the very beginning. Graduated the top of his class in the Royal Academy during his earlier years, groomed into what they wanted him to be: His personal advisor. On paper, that is. In reality, Noctis craved the human touch Ignis possessed through their first handshake. Though duty remained a permanent distinction separating their friendship, Ignis isn’t as much as a stickler he could be at times. He’s the brain behind their nightly escapades out of the Citadel while Noctis is the brawn—or the one persistently convincing Ignis that it’s a good idea and they’re never going to get caught, thanks to his meticulous mapping of the Citadel’s hallways. They clambered through open windows, snuck past guards, and crawled in metal vents just for that small reward of the stars studding the night skies. And perhaps, for Ignis himself, the reward truly lies in Noctis’ brilliant smile.

Then there was Gladio.

Every swordsman marches into battle with a shield, just like how his dad has Clarus. The Amicitias, a lineage of Dobermans on a leash. All hard edges and buzzed haircuts, barking at Noctis’ shadow to pick up his pace. “Again,” he’d snarl after tossing Noctis into the air like a softball. “Again,” he’d groan when Noctis tripped over his parries and introduced his face to the hardwood for the umpteenth time this week. “Again,��, he’d scowl as the TV screen burns red with K.O. and Noctis fistpumps the air, seizing victory for the fifth time in a row. Again, and again, and again. They fought. They made up. And they fought again. Gladio gave him none of the niceties as his Shield. His reproaches bruised Noctis both literally and figuratively, hitting his body blue all the way to his heart. He’s nothing like Ignis’ thoughtful insights into Noctis’ tantrums, but strangely, Noctis doesn’t think he needs a second Ignis. Gladio’s okay just the way he is, all bites and barks and bruises too.

Along came Prompto.

His favourite animal? Chocobo. Favourite game? Assassin’s Creed, but he still can’t decide between Black Flag or Origins. His favourite subject to photograph? Noctis. Prompto jogs every morning, works part-time at the camera store up the City Square, eats all Noctis’ leftover greens. He’s the epitome of healthy living, an antithesis to Noctis’ snacks-and-soda galore. But the way the sun loves him, kissing his cheeks to leave freckles in her wake, bounding up the school gates to reach Noctis’ side, it’s a breath of fresh air for him. Nobody’s ever seen him like this before. Like they’re best friends from high school to university and more. Like he’s less of a prince and more of a person.

And then. You.

If he is the True King, then you are the Denied Daughter of the Andronicus. Unloved by your father, unrecognized by your family. Willing to be banished from the comforts a noblewoman should enjoy, retreating to the safety of the Citadel. But did you complain? No, you probably don’t even have time to entertain such thoughts. You’re too busy with chasing your dreams just to succeed your father, to complete your thesis, to live life unlike what you experienced before. You’ve smiled, you’ve laughed, you’ve made friends, and you’ve tasted what he offered. You swore to climb the ranks just to serve him. Who is he to deny you what you want?

Noctis casts a glance at your figure lying prone, head on Byron’s lap.

He knows the risk he takes each time he laces their lives with magic. All the fainting and retching as the average human body adjusts to the Crystal’s intrusion. All the hardships in the future that Niflheim brings. All the lives he might lose. It is a promise that his shared strength will serve as both protection not only for him, but for his friends as well. Senior Glaives commanded the Crystal’s magic through his dad, who also bore the brunt of sustaining the barrier doming Insomnia. The strain shows well enough through accelerated ageing and declining health, something Noctis had closely witnessed in the years that passed. The king suffers as much as his people do. Soon enough, it’ll be his turn. His turn to put on the ring and become the 114th King of Lucis.

And to do that, he needs to be strong, stronger than his father, stronger than the Glaives, and strong enough to protect everyone who risked their lives for him.

Such is the fate of the True King.

The first signs of your consciousness start with a sound, stealing his attention. A soft, weak moan. Noctis uncurls himself from where he’s lounged by the walls, perking up. You rose from your fainting like you rose from your slumber, all sleepy yawns while rubbing your eyes. Like nothing’s wrong, you pull yourself away from Byron’s dismayed fussing, batting off his constant mothering. Then, looking around the hall, he sees confusion creasing your brows, unanswered questions forming on your lips but never rolling off your tongue.

Only after your eyes travel from the high ceilings to the empty armours lining the walls, you catch him in the distance and beckon him over, mimicking a lucky cat calling in customers. “Prince—where’s everyone?”

Plodding over, he drops into the spot next to yours and reminds himself not to peer at your face unless he wants to get smacked in the nose again. “Nyx went back to patrolling. Prom’s at the shooting range. Gladio’s with Specs at the Royal Arsenal since they’re checking out the new shipment of weapons coming in.” After a beat, letting the information sink into your addled head, Noctis swallows. “Uh. Hey, you’re feeling okay?”

You nod, a little too enthusiastic, then regretting your decision seven seconds later. Swallowing down what seems to be an urge to retch, you doubled over with your arms wrapped around your midriff, trembling. “Um. No.” Muffled, but the suffering is evident in your wavering voice. “It’s – ah, a little too much to take in. Kind of,” you shudder, shoulders heaving with the effort of keeping it together, “just kind of – nauseous? Overwhelmed. Headache. Sounds, buzzing sounds like what Nyx said. Too much.”

With how things are turning out, the side effects are probably starting to kick in. Byron runs a sympathetic hand down your back, silenced for once, though the conflicting emotions on his face speak volumes. He brings you to a half-seating position, listlessly leaning most of your weight against him for support.

“This is truly a disaster, milady,” he mutters as your head lolls back into his shoulder. “You look like stale bread.”

Somewhere deep inside, you must’ve summoned the lasts of your strength to roll your eyes. “Thanks for the – accurate description, I feel – like stale bread too.” Momentarily repositioning yourself so you’d fit into the crook of Byron’s arm, you mouth words into his blazer. “What – time is it?”

“A little past two,” Noctis supplies. “You’ve been out for quite a bit.”

You make some indistinct noise in the back of your throat that doesn’t sound pleased, tugging Byron on his cuff. “Go – back, ’s close to father’s teatime. You can’t – miss it.”

Now it’s Byron’s turn to mimic your little eye-rolling, injecting it with a dramatic flair. “And whatever shall I do with you, milady? Leave you here to die?”

You can’t really die from something like this since Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto are living proofs on how the Crystal doesn't kill anyone. He can count on Byron to exaggerate everything. “It’s okay, I’ll take over from here,” Noctis steps into the conversation once again, knowing all too well that he’s standing on the ceremony of you vomiting your guts out—or whatever’s left of your breakfast if you took any. “Want me to take you upstairs?”

That is a line he shouldn’t cross if Byron’s around, apparently.

“We’ll manage quite well on our own.” Byron’s hand on your hip tightens just a fraction, almost imperceptible if Noctis hadn’t been watching closely. “Thank you for your kind offer though, I’ll be sure to be in your debt for several millennia to come.”

Drained from all strength to nag your butler, you throw Byron a mildly peeved look, shaking your head in exasperation. Noctis just shrugs when he catches your gaze, as if you’re apologizing on your butler’s behalf. A jerk, yeah, he knows that much because it’s nothing new if it’s coming from Byron and his prejudice against princes—or whatever that’s up his ass. Surprisingly strong despite his deceivingly lean build, Byron hoists you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your middle to keep your hobbles steady. You manage to wave your farewell like a disjointed ragdoll, one that Noctis receives with a chuckle and returns with his own.

“See – you in King’s Knight—?” you grit out, borderline wheezing now.

Byron, of course, pins you with a threatening glare with his lips pursed, and Noctis, well, Noctis likes pissing Byron off. So he nods as casually as he could, ignoring the well-aimed scowl Byron’s sending his way. “Sure, I’ll text you a Room ID later.”

They’re such simple, insignificant words that meant nothing to others, but they’re more than enough to make you smile for him—even if seconds later, you’re hurling all over Byron’s shoes.

[tbc.]

( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)¡ intensifies.

1) so remember what i said about this going down the canon path? yea we’re doing a sliiiiight detour for pre-canon into omen route no takebacks now. for those who haven’t watched the omen trailer, you can do so by clicking right HERE! as much as i love the canon story, i can’t help but to wonder what’d happen if they go down the path of the omen trailer so here it is. pls stick around and watch as they ruin the world together (no). (DON’T WORRY I PROMISED HAPPY ENDING SO HAPPY ENDING IT IS). (BUT BEFORE HAPPY ENDINGS THERE NEEDS TO BE SUFFERING. can i get an amen for demon!noct in omen trailer.

2) we’re going to delve into more of noctis and reader spending more time together (hope you readers don’t mind that) because this is the flowering arc for a reason. we’ll explore noctis’ thoughts and dilemmas and how it overlaps with the reader’s own ambitions and how they’ll work together as one. 8’) the next arc is going to be pretty. it’ll be fluffy. and angsty. and watch them fall in love with each other and pretty much go down the path of the omen trailer.

3) Hope you guys liked this long chapter, I couldn’t find a good time to cut off everything so here it is, roughly 9k words. (ALSO THIS IS PRETTY MUCH THE ENTIRE REASON WHY I WROTE LPC TBH, I WANTED AN OMEN ROUTE GDI, THE CONCEPT IS JUST TOO GOOD TO LET GO.) But good news is next chapter is super cute! And good news is, episode ignis is definitely going to ruin us all 8’)

4) Thanks for all the likes and messages and the never-ending support for this fic, I truly hope you guys will enjoy the pre-Omen route, Noctis’ progress from prince to king, the eventual demon!Noct, and so forth. :D

5) I’m rather miffed at Tumblr’s image-inserting option as they no longer allow inserting pictures into the same line as text. It messed up loads of the chatting sequence that was supposed to be cuter with Prompto’s emoji stickers. Reading it on AO3 looks better tbh.

PREVIEW: Something tells him he should lament the loss—but the loss of what, exactly? He cannot truly have lost something if he does not remember what it is in the first place, isn’t it? Yet, the image you cast against a backdrop of fire is one of love, a severe attraction that ran for many months. It makes him forget he stands at the cusp of a shattered world when you stand at the other end, awaiting him with your arms wide open.

P/S: Noctis definitely watched JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure because his Ultimate Pose says so. JJBA is amazing.

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