#releasing this awful thing from my drafts cause its my birthday and i MISS them

[getyinyusedtoit]

how am i supposed to go about my day and not be constantly consumed and plagued by thoughts of the wolf pup and the moon?? the little fox and the sun????? tenderness amidst pain and gentleness amidst ruthlessness?????

[themusesofmars]

Happy Birthday, Ignis!

Happy birthday, Ignis! <3 I had the best intentions, I promise. I really wanted to write a worthy birthday fic for Iggy, but between work and Elder Scrolls Online releasing player housing this week, I just let time get away from me. Still, I would really hate to miss Iggy’s big day. So here’s the rough draft of “Happy Birthday, Ignis,” posted exclusively to our blog and Tumblr accounts. Eventually this will be edited (read: FIXED) and posted to fanfiction.net and archive of our own, but it’s too late tonight and we’re out of time. I understand this is probably full of typing errors and completely out of character, but it was a rough draft written between 11:30 last night and 12:30 this morning. So...take it or leave it. lol ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prince Noctis had a bad habit of chewing on pens.

He wasn’t even aware he was doing it most of the time, but as he sat at the study desk in the palace library in the Crown City of Insomnia, his teeth found familiar grooves on the end of his writing implement and he had to frown at himself. Ignis was always chiding him for doing it, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

But Ignis wasn’t here now, so Noct had to mentally scold himself and get back to the task at hand. He had a planner open in front of him with the date of February 7th circled in red. Ignis made him carry a date book to keep track of his lessons and royal obligations, and though he usually only did so to appease the older man, this was one day he had been looking forward to and couldn’t forget. No, not looking forward to, but keeping an eye on. For weeks he had been trying to decide just how to handle today, and he still wasn’t sure. So here he sat in the palace library, the one quiet place where he could think in peace and not be bothered.

“Here he is, Gladio! I found him!”

So much for that plan.

As his friend Prompto came galloping into the room at a charge, Noct quickly slammed the planning book shut and reached for the nearest book, stealing a tome from the stack someone else had left on the desk.

“Whatcha doin’, buddy?” Prompto asked curiously as he stole a chair from another table and placed it facing backward directly across from Noct, then straddled it as he sat down.

Gladio rounded the desk and came up behind Noct, snatching the book from his hands. “Hmph. When the chamberlain told us you were in here, I couldn’t believe it. Now,” he said, waving the closed book in the prince’s face, “I know you’re up to something. ‘Prevailing Theories of Lucian Crystal Matrices’? Yeah, right. You probably couldn’t read the title of this book, let alone explain what it’s about.”

“Back off,” Noct grumbled, waving the book out of his face.

“Whatcha got there, Noct?” Prompto reached out and took hold of the planner.

“Hey!” The prince grabbed for it, but Gladio got his larger hand on it first. “Give that back to me, Gladio,” he demanded, standing up quickly.

“What is it, your little black book?” Gladio taunted, opening the planner and flipping through its mostly blank pages.

“None of your business, damn it,” Noct growled. “Just give it back!”

“What’s this?” Gladio had found the page with today’s date and was eyeing it critically.

“What is it, big guy?” Prompto was kneeling on his chair, trying to lean over Gladio’s shoulder.

“I dunno. What is this, Noct?” Gladio turned the planner around to face the prince, and pointed toward the block where he had circled the seventh day of February and written… “Why is Ignis’s name written here?”

Prompto gasped. “Ooh, I know!” he said excitedly. “It’s Ignis’s birthday, isn’t it, Noct?”

“Yes,” Noctis admitted through gritted teeth. This time he succeeded in ripping the book free from Gladio’s clutches. “Not that he wanted the whole palace to know about it.”

Gladio snorted, sounding offended. “I hardly think telling two of his friends counts as the ‘whole palace’,” he grunted. For good measure, he tacked on, “Drama queen.”

Noct tucked the book under his arm and grabbed his pen from the desk. “Doesn’t matter. Ignis doesn’t like it when people make a big deal about it, so he likes keeping it to himself.”

“So why’d you circle the date on your calendar?” Gladio challenged, his arms folded over his chest.

Noct didn’t answer.

“Dude!” Prompto slapped Gladio’s chest with the back of his hand to get his attention. “We should totally throw Ignis a killer party!”

To Noct’s chagrin, Gladio’s eyes lit up. “Yeah…” the muscular man agreed. Noct could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “We could have it right here in the library! Nobody else will be in here tonight, and there’s plenty of room. And Ignis loves this place, so it’s perfect!”

Noct’s pulse was racing. “He loves it here because it’s quiet,” he felt compelled to point out. “I don’t think this is a good idea, anyway.”

“Why not?” Now Noct had offended Prompto.

“Because I just got finished telling you Ignis doesn’t like it when people make a big deal out of his birthday!”

“Pfft,” Gladio scoffed. “Everyone likes getting presents and feeling like a king for a day.”

The prince gave him a wry look.

Gladio ignored it. “And nothing makes a man feel more like a god than strippers.”

Noct gasped with wide eyes. “What!”

“Dude!” Prompto cackled. “That’s hardcore!”

Gladio looked at him analytically before deciding, “I guess you’re old enough to be invited.”

“Aw, come on!” Prompto complained. “It was my idea, so I have to be invited! Besides, I’m the one that’s going to help you plan this thing.”

“All right, then it’s settled.” Gladio slammed a fist against his open palm. “You go to the kitchen and take care of the food; I’ll call the girls and buy the booze.”

“Woohoo!” Prompto sang, throwing his arms up in the air. “Partay!”

“I think I know a guy who can hook us up with some strobes…” Gladio said thoughtfully as he led the way toward the exit.

“I can DJ!” Prompto offered.

They were so excited about their party planning they forgot all about Noct, who had his face in his hands as he wondered how he had let this happen and how to break the bad news to Ignis. It was after five o’clock when Gladio found him again. This time Noct was sitting on the balcony outside of his room, his legs dangling over the edge. He was still toying with the idea of what he wanted to give Ignis as a birthday gift, but warring with himself over whether or not he should, when Gladio walked out onto the veranda.

“You’re hiding in weird places today,” Gladio complained as he joined the prince. “I saw you from the East wing and had to jog all the way over here.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Noct retorted, not turning to look at him. Gladio had interrupted him twice too many times today and he was getting annoyed.

“Okay, smartass, so you’re mad we came up with the idea to throw a party for Ignis first. So get over it and give us a hand. We could use a little help.”

“You think I’m jealous?” Noct snapped, now giving Gladio his full attention. “I told you Ignis hates parties! Especially the kind you’re planning, so I want nothing to do with it.”

“Nobody hates parties, punk,” Gladio bit back at him, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him down from the ledge. “Listen, all we need you to do is get Ignis to the library at nine o’clock.”

Noct’s temper flared when the larger man forced him from his perch and insisted he partake of their nonsense. “I said I don’t want to. Why are you involving me in this?”

“Because Ignis will do anything you tell him to. He’s crazy about you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Noct inhaled sharply but said nothing.

“You’re his best friend. Just tell him about your crystal matrices textbook and get him in there, all right?”

There was just no poing in arguing. “Fine,” Noct grumbled. “But don’t blame me if he doesn’t show.”

Gladio just grinned at him. “Oh, he’ll show. If you’re the one doing the inviting, he’ll show.” Noctis had never felt so guilty as he did leading Ignis to the the gallows. Surprise party. Whatever. The palace hallways were deserted, all the councilors and dignitaries having concluded the day’s business, and the lights were dimmed. Their footsteps echoed too loudly in the silent corridoors. As they approached the palace library, the prince thought he could hear the pounding of his own anxious heartbeat reverberating off the walls.

Suddenly Ignis stopped walking, and turned to face him. “Noct,” he said, sounding hesitant.

Noct slowed and stopped, hardly able to meet Ignis’s eyes. He had to swallow before answering, “Yeah?”

Ignis gave him a small smile. “You’re not really leading me to the library to look at a book, are you?”

The prince sighed. He hated lying to Ignis. Even for a supposed good cause. “Well, not really for a book,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Ah. Didn’t think so.” Ignis sounded amused, however, and began walking again. “Well, let’s continue. Chop-chop! I’m eager for my birthday gift.”

Noct’s eyes widened as he hurried to catch up to Ignis’s now brisk and eager pace. “You—you are?” he asked with surprise.

“Of course,” Ignis replied, placing a hand on Noct’s shoulder as they reached the library door. “I have an idea of what it might be. And I might have something to give you in return.”

“But, Ignis—”

“Shh. Not until we’re inside and have a little privacy.” Ignis reached for the door handle.

“No, you don’t understand. Ignis, wait!”

It was too late. Ignis had pulled open the library door. He guided Noct into the darkened room and turned to face him as it closed behind them.

Suddenly the lights flipped on.

“Happy birthday!” sang a chorus of dozens of mostly female voices.

Ignis blinked in the sudden glare of flashing colored lights as the deafening bass of unpleasantly loud music began shaking the floor beneath his feet. He turned to look at Noct with surprise.

Noct couldn’t read Ignis’s expression behind the glare of strobing lights reflecting on the lenses of his glasses. But he could imagine the betrayal there.

He couldn’t have apologized if he’d wanted to, because Ignis was being dragged away by Gladio and Prompto, each tugging on one of his arms and leading him toward a circle of young girls in bikinis who were holding a large birthday cake, twenty-three candles ablaze.

The crowd was thick, the library filled with strangers, but Noct managed to push his way through and find the exit that led out into the garden. He didn’t like crowds any better than Ignis did, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the party entirely, since it was all his fault this had happened. Ignis was stunned. He had been hoping—what with the way Noct had been looking at him lately—he might get a pleasant surprise tonight from the prince, but he’d had no idea it would be anything like this. Had Noct really had a hand in it—the women, the alcohol, the raucous music? Didn’t he know him at all?

He hardly had a moment to be disappointed before he found himself engulfed in a wave of congratulations. Before his eyes could even adjust to the brilliant lights, he was told to make a wish and blow out the candles on the oversized cake. A few men shook his hand and several women kissed him, while he stood there bewildered.

“Gladio…who are all these people?” He had to shout to be heard over the music.

Gladio shrugged. “They brought presents, so who cares?”

“But—but where will I send my thank-you notes?”

Gladio laughed, then pushed Ignis into the arms of a half-naked dancer. The music was so loud Noct could hear it plainly even from outside. He was surprised none of the palace guards had been dispatched to break up the party, but then realized Gladio must have taken care of that. He was so distracted he didn’t noticed someone had joined him until another body sat down on the stone garden bench beside him. He was surprised when he looked up and saw Ignis next to him.

His ash blond hair was touseled, his tie was missing, and his shirt was halfway undone, revealing lipstick stains on his neck and collar. But he didn’t look angry.

Noct was surprised. Was Ignis really having a good time? Even with the girls? Had he misjudged him? Had he misunderstood…everything?

“I must say,” Ignis said, “I find it difficult to believe this was your doing.”

The corner of Noct’s mouth turned up in a half-hearted smile. His elbows resting on his knees, he shook his head. “It wasn’t.” Ignis cocked his head at him. “But I guess I’m responsible, anyway. Gladio found my planner, and I’d marked your birthday in it—just for my own purposes, not for…this.”

“Ah. I see.” Ignis sighed. “That’s certainly a relief.” He removed his glasses and wiped the lenses on the hem of his untucked dress shirt.

Noct looked up at him with surprise. “It is?”

“Indeed.” Ignis replaced his glasses on his face before drawing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbing at the pink and red makeup blotching his skin. “I had hoped we might be spending the evening alone together when you brought me here. I never anticipated what I walked into.”

“They made me do it,” Noct grumbled. “I tried to explain you don’t like parties and you wouldn’t want this, but they got so caught up in making plans they didn’t listen to a word I said.”

Ignis chuckled. “It’s all right. At least I can say I’ve had an adventure.” He tucked the hanky away and sat quietly for a while. When Noct said nothing more, Ignis gently cleared his throat. “I’m glad you know me so well, Noct.”

“Of course I do. We’ve been…we’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Yes, we have.” Ignis paused before asking, “May I have my gift?”

“…Huh?”

Ignis leaned closer, nudging Noct’s shoulder with his own. “Prompto gave me an entire case of Ebony, so since we’re so close, your birthday gift to me had better be impressive.”

Noct almost cracked a smile, but he was too nervous. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. So instead he reached up, cupped Ignis’s face, and drew him in for a kiss.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it lingered for a few breathless moments. Ignis didn’t try to resist him, and his breath didn’t taste like alcohol, so the soft compliance of his lips was no mistake.

When Noct lowered his hands back to his own lap, he said, “There. That’s all I wanted to give you.”

Slowly Ignis smiled. He took hold of the boy’s hands tenderly. “And it’s the best gift I could have ever received.”

[abitscrewyvinn]

Shade is Not Silver.

If you don’t like blood/gore don’t click ‘read more’. What follows is Shade telling her story. It.. It’s kinda brutal and she’s a little drunk right now so it might not always be coherent.

Let me preface this, start from the beginning. When it all went to shit.

I was seven. My parents, specifically my mother, have this tradition sort of thing. A sick, sadistic one. Though they claim it’s for the progress of humanity, they only recently started releasing their tech to the public. Under a pseudonym as well. This tradition is to ‘build the perfect soldier’ as it were. Generally for them that means their children. The age of seven is apparently perfect or something, because damn do they like sevens.

Anyway, they took me into this room for my birthday and told me I was getting my present when they strapped me down to a table and sawed off my arm and leg. Back then they didn’t have the laser things either. Straight up hacksaw. Used their magic to keep me alive and stable, opened me up and replaced some other shit too but I’d passed out by then. For some reason the arm and leg were too important for me to miss, so I was forced awake for that bit. This was only part of it. At seven, once I’d woken up, they informed me of the other things to happen to me over the years.

By seventeen I was to become a loyal soldier to the Silvers and all their affiliates. They’d tweak my soul just right. The tech would grow with my body just like bones. Well, the skeletal structure would. The add-ons like the shoulder pad and arm/leg covers would need replacing to match the size, and it’s all a special kind of metal. One able to withstanding just about everything short of their magic. So, at eight, I got the balls to try and run away with the only one of my sisters who agreed with me. We both understood that this shit was bad, feared for our lives we did.

.. We got caught.

She was an example. My mother was convinced that I was going to be the perfect Silver Soldier, so I was not expendable, but she was. Her name was Silthie. My mother chained her down, using some shadow abilities she’d been born into, and started a little ritual. A small yellow-blue light started at Silthie’s stomach and clawed its way up her chest through her head, and out her eyes. She screamed until the very last drop of her soul left her eyes. My mother turned to me and softly, she said. “The eyes are the windows to the soul, my love.” ....

I was dismissed to my room where I locked the door and gouged out my eyes. My father broke down the door and ‘saved’ me. I wanted to die, the bastards had more planned for me. “You have such a future ahead of you!” Bastards...

They replaced my eyes, but the model was an early one. My eyes became super sensitive to just about everything. I could see in the dark, but was pretty much blind in the light, so they made me goggles to go along with them. Made them special just for me. They carved out parts of my skull on either side, and put in some kind of magik infused metal. Once my skin was healed and grown back, the goggles could be worn. They’d fuse to my fucking face until I took them off. My right hand, the metal one, was calibrated specifically to be able to remove them.

At ten years old, I ran away successfully. I’d been trained and doted on to be the perfect soldier. I was ‘programmed’ to be a tactical genius, and it paid off more for me rather than them. I timed the security, unlocked the doors, and ran as far and fast as I could.

I smuggled myself to America and lived on the streets, stealing the food I needed from trash; sometimes I’d break into a nicer house and get food there. I’m not proud of it but I had already gotten out so I’d gotten over my wanting to die. My body’s wiring kicked in and wanted to keep me alive. Though the tech and magik I inherited has something of a life support system. It’s all rather annoying.

Once I was old enough I forged documents saying I’d become an American citizen, and I joined the Military. Army to be exact. Got drafted into this little program due to how trained I already was, not to mention my enhancements. I actually got to work with Captain fucking America, if you can believe it.. You probably don’t.. Did I mention this was the 1940′s?

Doesn’t really matter. I served with the regular-old-army for a good long while. I saw a lot of good people die. Only a few of my friends made it out alive. Eventually, though, I sort of retired? They let me go home and I was more or less on call, but nothing ever happened. Unfortunately for me, someone wanted my ass, and not in a fun sexy way.

This bitch’s name is Viran Hellsoul. Her entire family is at war with the Silvers, who I disowned myself from. I even changed my name to Shade Hawke. Steve even helped me work things out with American authorities, about my papers n’ shit. Because I was a good soldier and explained that my family is full of abusive assholes, they were pretty nice to me. Anyway, Viran is the daughter of Anaya Hellsoul, one of the previous four demonic elements. I won’t go into that bullshit, it’s all convoluted and fucking confusing.

She thought that by capturing me and killing me in front of her family, they’d all love her more. She’s an attention whore starved of attention, and takes it out on torture victims. I was the unfortunate victim.

The first month she had a phase with her whip and I. She focused on detaching my metal leg, which hurt like hell and more, and then would beat me for a while every day. Her magic is even BETTER at keeping people alive though, because she’s an over powered entity of flame with many emotional issues. At the end of the month, her family was supposed to come and there would be some ritual and she’d kill me. Thing is, out of spite I think, they never came.

Over the next two weeks she got kind of bored of me, burning the tips of my fingers and toes every other day. On the alternating days she’d choke me until I passed out, screamed at me until I woke up, and did it again.

She never got out of her denial. She kept telling me I’d die once they came but nobody ever did. At some point, I don’t know when, I became hopeful that they would come. This bitch is the head of Hell’s torture department for a reason.

Month three; She started to carve drawings and designs into my skin. Most of the wounds healed well, some left permanent scars. Those were her angry days...

Month four; She went back to beatings, and added other elements to the mixture. More fire torture, waterboarding was popular which is odd considering she’s Fire. She has something against her sister that represents water. Fuck if I know or care. She would repeatedly degrade me verbally. Nicknames. “Silver Girl” “Silver Bitch” “You awful bitch” “Bitch” in general “Silver Whore” Silver. I hate that word. I hate that color. I hate every aspect of it because in my head I just hear Viran.

She does this, mixed with all previous tortures, for the remainder of the year.

The next year, she starts mental torture as well. Sometimes she’ll just take my brain with magic and play. Go through my time in the Army, mess with that, mess with reality. Some other times, she didn’t even need magic to mess with my reality. She’d just tell me things repeatedly during beatings until I believed them. She made me believe I was her toy. That I was going to be hers forever. She told me secrets about her. She told me that she wasn’t Viran, but Val, one of the many people in her head. All splitting off from the original, Viran. They’re all aspects of her, but they’re broken and not quite whole. I used to care. I used to worry if she came in late... She used to tell me she loved me. I don’t even know what kind of love she meant. It was like a reverse sockholm syndrome. Didn’t love me in a way to let me go though, had to keep playing with me.

I was her favorite toy....

She came up with something new year after year, but eventually she just couldn’t think of anything else. She broke down one day during the fifth year. Something about her sister’s husband. Something about killing him. Something about her mother hating her. I actually cared. I can’t believe I cared.

She let me go that day. I stood outside wondering what was real. For a week I was lost until someone saw me and brought me to the hospital. At the time I didn’t understand what the rape kit was for, but hey. Now I do.

As soon as I was coherent and mentally well enough, I went right back to the military. They gave me a new job. Made me a special operative. I don’t think I’m allowed to tell stories, but I was a sniper.

Seventy-eight confirmed kills..

I went home.

I turned seventy. I don’t age like normal people. Steve and I would have only really had each other for company if he hadn’t gotten Iced, but he did. So I was alone a lot of the time. They would have come for me at twenty seven or any other seven variant if they’d known where I was, but they didn’t. They kidnapped me and nearly got their damn job done. They nearly took my other arm, nearly took my heart, but I escaped on sheer damn luck.

I had to go somewhere more secluded, so I moved to somewhere more remote, but I can’t for the life of me remember where it was. I know it was still in America.

Anyway, that’s when things get fuzzy. Next thing I know, I’m no longer in my body.

I’m in some kid’s brain in something called a system, causing them the occasional PTSD breakdown, but I’m a protector.

It’s not all bad. I have a job I guess. I have a purpose. I even have a partner. Someone from another system. A version of Fenris from Dragon Age. He’s sweet in his own way, but I love him all the same. And now I’m drunk in the headspace, venting my story onto Tumblr.

My life’s been rather odd....