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sarahjtv · 3 years

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BNHA Chapter 317 Spoiler Analysis: Everything Hurts and I’m Dying

The BNHA Chapter 317 leaks are out, I can’t wait until Sunday this time, and I’m fuckity sad as hell 😭. We have more Deku angst and more Dad Might angst. Also pro hero angst. But, there’s Shoto Todoroki crumbs! I’m happy about that. Maybe the POV will change to the students soon. At least I hope. I want an update on them:

We do get a cover page for this chapter and it looks amazing! Like really, Horikoshi-sensei is snapping hard with the art in these recent chapters. Deku just looks amazing. The detail in the pen lines in on this page is incredible. I can’t imagine the amount of work and patience that went into making this. It reminds me of the hard work Berserk’s mangaka, Kentaro Miura, went into drawing his manga. I wonder if this is a homage of some sorts. Kinda to honor Miura’s passing in a way.

But yeah, Deku looks so good, but he’s so, so tired. His eyes are practically black, his costume is more torn than before, his metal mask is crumbling from the damage it’s taken, and there are obvious bags under his eyes. That bright-eyed Izuku Midoriya we knew in the past is almost entirely gone. Deku’s seen shit and he is exhausted from all of it. I truly want this kid to get some sleep and take a shower in something other than the rain. I honestly don’t know how much longer his mentality’s going to last at this point. I’d say 1-2 more chapters maybe.

The Pro Heroes and Deku managed to survive the blast from the last chapter thank god. Unfortunately, they’re back to square 1 on AFO and Shigaraki’s whereabouts. Edgeshot suggest taking to Lady Nagant to get some more info, but she’s still unconscious in the hospital. He also suggest that OFA should be finally be known to the public in order to gain more allies and support Deku. This pretty much confirms that Edgeshot, Mt. Lady, and Kamui Woods know about OFA at this point. I wonder if other heroes like Mirko and Aizawa know now too. Actually, given that Deku told all of his classmates, Aizawa most likely knows now too.

And thing is, yeah, telling more people about OFA will probably give Deku more allies, but it will also put massive targets on their backs too. More villains will go after Deku as well. This Quirk was kept a secret for a reason after all. It would be a big risk if they choose to release the info on OFA.

A flashback comes in showing that Death Arms (the big bulky Pro Hero who Jiro did her first internship with) has given up. The booing managed to overweigh the cheers of heroism. It’s a small scene, but Death Arms was actually one of the first Pro Heroes we ever saw in the series. He helped protect the citizens back when the giant villain was attacking the city. It’s honestly sad to see one of the first heroes in the series give up after everything the world has come to.

Back to the present, more Pro Heroes are giving up every day and some are even leaking info to the media. Which means that people are getting close to finding out about the truth of OFA. That also means people will start blaming Deku more. The last thing Deku needs is to be blamed for something he didn’t do. That would make things so much worse for him.

Mt. Lady (who has a vertical scar on top of her left eye now) brings up a good point here: AFO could leak out the truth about OFA at any point, but he hasn’t. He has to have a reason behind that. Maybe he thinks that would be too easy. Maybe AFO wants to play with his chess pieces more before killing them off. Maybe he just wants to see all his enemies suffer first.

Also, can I just point out how cool it is to see Mt. Lady act as a real Pro Hero? At the beginning of the series, it was clear she was only in it for fame and glory. If she was the same as before, she would’ve retired by now. But instead, she’s actively helping Deku out as his ally and keeping him safe. You love to see that character development.

AND NOW WE HAVE SHOTO CRUMBS 💙😭!!!! No new panels except for the flashback back in Central Hospital, but he did leave a missed call for Endeavor and a message asking him to call him back. Given Shoto’s relationship with Endeavor right now, things are probably still slowly improving with them. And what Shoto found must be incredibly important given that he wants to talk to Endeavor immediately. Is it about Dabi? Is it about Deku??? Maybe both???? I mean, Shoto has to know that Endeavor is working with Deku, right? I think? CAN HE BRING DEKU HOME MAYBE??? IDK, I’M JUST HAPPY TO HEAR MY ICY-HOT BOY AGAIN IN THE MANGA I WILL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET, HORIKOSHI 💙🤍❤️😭

In the meantime, Hawks gets a call from All Might and Deku managed to easily defeat a hired villain. And good god Deku looks so badass and haunting here. That villain is slumped and Deku’s holding him with one big strand of Blackwhip with ONE FINGER. Deku took that villain out effortlessly. He really has gotten stronger with OFA. I’d be scared of this kid if I faced him.

After the villain is captured, Deku is ready to leave immediately after. But, Dad Might is so worried about his green son 😭! All Might tries to reason with Deku and tries to give him a bento box, but Deku refuses and says that All Might doesn’t need to follow him anymore because he can take care of himself now like All Might did in his prime and he doesn’t want All Might to get hurt. THE PANELS THAT GO WITH THIS SCENE MAKES ME CRY SO MUCH!!! ALL MIGHT TRIES TO REACH FOR DEKU’S HAND BEFORE HE LEAVES, BUT HE CAN’T SO HE TRIPS ON THE GROUND AND THE BENTO BOX FALLS ON THE GRASS AND ALL MIGHT HAS FLASHBACKS TO WANTING TO PROTECT DEKU AND HE’S SO WORRIED OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS HORIKOSHI WHY *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*😭😭😭

All Might thinks on how he should’ve told Deku to get some rest instead of letting Deku go. God, All Might is honestly the best Dad for Deku next to Aizawa. Screw you, Hisashi, you can stay overseas wherever the hell you are. There’s also a panel of Stain who listened in on Deku and All Might’s conversation. I don’t think Stain will kill All Might since Stain considered All Might to be one of the true heroes out there (he might encounter Deku though if we’re going by how Deku encountered Muscular and Overhaul). But, I am worried that All Might will die somehow before Deku can come back to see him. Which would absolutely kill me. Imagine if Deku comes back to All Might on his deathbed and that’s the last conversation they will ever have until Deku sees All Might in the vestige world. God, I would cry for weeks if that happened.

So, over the weeks, Deku has kind of become an urban legend all over Japan apparently. They would see him as someone who appears silently and has multiple Quirks. They say his body is full of wounds, blood, and mud (Deku need a real shower bad, someone get Wash). It’s interesting how Deku’s become this kind of myth that’s been going on in Japan. Like, he’s this mythical being that no one really knows about but is like their dark guardian angel protecting them from harm. Very much like a vigilante.

The final panel shows Deku looking like a monster/demon with OFA going and Blackwhip coming out of his arms all Venom like and his clothes are in even more tatters (his other Mid-Gauntlet on his right arm is broken now too). The last dialogue bubble has a citizen say that “I heard he doesn’t look like a hero at all” This last page is so, SO well done! Horikoshi has been giving us nothing but straight 🔥 since this arc began. Deku looks nothing like that wide-eyed hero-in-training we knew before the war arc. That glimmer in his eyes is all but gone. I can’t believe that sweet broccoli boy has descended into this dark vigilante who’s mental state is on the brink of breaking. He’s still as badass as ever though. Like, Deku really looks like a villain here, but we know he’s not. Horikoshi really likes Venom as much as he loves Spider-Man I think. This is like Venom mixed with Batman/Arkham. It’s like the series went from happy Marvel to dark DC in the best way possible. It’s honestly great. But, I’m so worried about Deku and All Might. I want the kids (specifically Bakugo or Shoto) and Aizawa to fetch them and bring them home. Even if it resorts to fighting to drag Deku back. Deku can’t keep isolating himself like this forever; he needs all the help he can get. His friends can more than handle their own. Again, I’ll give him 1-2 chapters until Deku breaks entirely.

Me sobbing from pain and angst throughout the entire chapter:

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 55

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Neo had confirmed the presence of an elderly woman that only Winter Schnee was allowed to see. She took her tea green so I did in fact get all the information I wanted. Fria was her name. And she was the winter maiden, at least if Tyrian could be taken at his word, which in this case, why not? Did it really matter if she was winter or summer? Not for my purposes.

Aside from Tyrian's location, Aurum had informed me of another of Merlot's laboratories in a place called Mt. Nibel. It was above a small dust mining town that Neo and I reached on a combination of train and foot.

He also promised to put me in contact with a group of ex-workers who could tell me about the General's secret project. A group called Avalanche. They had some little favors they needed from me first but they'd talk. At least according to Aurum. They just needed a little help with something first. No biggie for someone like me. I was a favor guy. I was a problem solver.

Nibelhiem had all the usual dust amenities and I took the time to resupply my dust where it was cheap. Cheapest in all the world. Especially with the embargo driving up supply and decreasing demand.

They were practically giving the stuff away and I had my pick of crystals from a vendor near the mountain.

"Burn and shock crystals. Uncut is fine." He nodded. The uncut ones were a little cheaper. Not that it mattered much to me. I still was swimming in cash even after the train rides and the private airship.

"You headed up the mountain?" He asked as he set crystals on his counter.

I nodded. "And a bit of weight, please." He nodded and he pulled out a purple crystal and set it next to the array of yellow and red crystals.

"Well you might need a guide if you're goin' up the mountain. You got a place in mind or are you just out hunting?"

I took them and put them in my crystal pouch. They clanked together in the pocket and I'd need to consider a new way of carrying them to make sure they didn't blow up on me and destroy my face in the process.

Nothing bad had happened yet but that was no reason to tempt fate where I was concerned. I had the worst luck. Like the absolute worst.

"What do you think Neo? Do we need a guide to take us up the mountain?"

She pursed her lips in thought at me. She raised a finger. I took that however I wanted.

"We're headed to an old laboratory up there. You ever hear of it?" I asked. "Run by this guy named Merlot at some point in the past?"

"I haven't but I'm willing to bet you could find a guide who has in a young girl. She's been training to be a huntress up here. Her name's Peach Locheart."

"And do you know where I might find this young girl?"

"She's usually in her teacher's dojo. Zangan's his name."

I nodded my head. It was entirely possible a guide would be necessary up in those mountains. The wind seemed to course over them fast enough to whip up a blizzard and even trained huntsmen like yours truly could get lost in that kind of weather.

It was unlike the last laboratory which we sort of knew the location of based on our conversation with Godo. I was coming in here a little blind.

"She's not like a kid, is she?" I asked. "My friend here isn't fond of kids." I gestured to Neo with both hands.

"She's a bit on the younger side. Mature for her age, though, if that helps." He pointed the way to Zangan's dojo down the street.

I thanked him for the advice and the dust and made my way there.

There was a young girl in a pink combat skirt firing off kicks against a dummy punching bag. She was maybe fifteen, old enough to kind of understand the world. Old enough to start to be a huntress. An older gentleman turned to look at me as I walked in.

"Howdy," he greeted unironically. He actually said howdy this far north. "What brings you in here?"

"I'm headed up the mountains, into Merlot's old laboratory. I need a guide to take me there. A dust vendor outside recommended someone named Peach."

"That's me," the young girl delivered a punch and a kick to the bag for emphasis.

"She can take you up the mountains. I've never heard of a laboratory being up there, though."

"He must mean that old white and grey bunker up there." Peach cut in. "I've seen it. Never been inside though."

"What do you say kid, want to take me up there?"

"What's in it for me?" She asked. I liked her style. She was more worldly than Yuma had been. Less of that naivety. It would make her harder to trick but that was at once a good and a bad thing.

"I have Lien. Set your price," I told her.

"I don't need Lien." She punched the bag in time with her words.

"Everybody needs something, kid. Everybody has a price."

"I'm not a kid either. You said you were buying dust?"

"That's right." I palmed a crystal from my pocket and showed it to her.

"You know magic, then? You're a hunter." She took in the massive weapon at my back. Her eyes flicked over my shoulder.

"Only a little. I'm better at using it to set explosives," I informed her.

"Teach me."

"Hmm." I hummed at that.

"I don't need your money but I'm going to be a huntress. I need to know about dust if I'm going to be any good. You teach me how to use it to make explosives and you've got a deal."

She held out a wrapped hand.

I reached out and shook it.

"You've got yourself a deal, little miss."

She flushed a little red. Maybe she was nervous.

"Peach…" Zangan warned. "Be careful. And you better go ask your father."

"Not to worry sir, I'll keep her safe," I told him. "She seems like quite the student."

She rushed off out the door behind me to do as her teacher bade.

"She is. She's very dedicated. You know how it is with the young'uns. They want to be hunters so bad they'll miss the forest for the trees. They don't know what it'll cost."

That most hunters died young. I understood.

"We don't all get to live to be as old as you are." He was only forty or so. Middle aged.

He grunted at that. "How old are you kid?"

"Twenty."

"And the Miss with you?"

Neo held up a warning hand.

"Neo? I'm not sure. She doesn't talk. Plus it's rude to ask a lady her age. We've been traveling together for a while now, though."

"Well don't be shocked if her father wants to meet with you before he sends you off with his daughter. He's not a huntsman himself but he understands a little."

"But not the whole picture."

"They rarely do. Rarely can." He leaned against the counter in front of the dojo. "He's paying me a pretty penny to teach his daughter. She's hungry for it. You met the type?"

I thought of Yuma Kisaragi and I thought of little Ruby Rose. Plus there was me, myself, before I knew my memories were fake and my dreams were dead.

"Once or twice."

"You ever seen it work out well?" He seemed to be genuinely asking me. Like he wasn't sure himself.

"They're alive." I managed. "So it's sort of too early to tell."

"They your age?"

"Yes sir, one. And another is your Peach's age. A little huntress to be out of a place called Wutai. You heard of it?"

He shook his head.

"It's a small town. Down near Mistral," I went on.

"That where you're from?" He asked.

"Near Mistral? I suppose. But I was trained and raised in Vale, though." And that was the truth, near as I could tell.

"Been all over, have you?"

"A bit."

"The traveling mysterious huntsman type. I ought to hate your guts."

"Sir?"

"You ought t' know. Be careful with my apprentice. You should know how young hearts are. You were one more recently than me, as you pointed out."

I ran a hand through my spiky hair and sighed. That seemed to be good enough for him because he nodded.

"I'll look after her. Nobody will get hurt on my watch," I swore.

"And if someone is?" He leaned over at me.

"I'll bring her right back here."

"There ain't a hospital in town."

"She's a huntress. She has aura."

"Huntress in training. You know they're not the same thing."

"I'll be as safe as I can be. I'm promising to train her in explosives for gods' sake. There's only so safe you can be. Besides, if you think she'll be good enough by being trained in a dojo, you've got another thing coming. Does she want to make it into one of the Academies?"

Zangan nodded.

"Then she needs to fight Grimm. A lot of them. The sooner the better. I trained at Beacon. Initiation started with launching us into a Grimm infested forest."

"Lords above. So young..."

"Seventeen isn't that young. There was even this prodigy that was her age there and she was better than me. Still is. Well maybe." I wasn't sure how I still might stand up against Ruby. I was fucking dangerous. If she plateaued, then I might have the edge on her.

Peach came back with an older man in tow.

"Father this is...um…" Her pink eyes flickered to mine. Oh to be young. Ever.

"Cloud Strife, sir." I shook his hand firmly and saved her. He was a touch shorter than me with brown hair unlike his daughter's blonde. And his eyes were a dark red. But eye colors could be weird in Remnant. Ask Yang.

"I hear that my daughter wants to take you up the mountain in exchange for some training."

"That's right. I was going to show her some of what I know about dust."

"You mean… like magic?"

"Maybe a little. I know some but my real experience is in using it to make explosives."

"Peach…" he trailed off looking down at her.

"Dad I need to learn this kind of thing. He can show me. Sifu-Zangan doesn't use dust."

"Never needed it," Zangan grunted.

"You’ve never killed any big fish, then," I said. “Big. Game. Goliaths and the like.”

“Tha’s a dangerous sport.”

“Hunting can be. There are sharks in these rivers.”

He looked away and I thought of Tyrian and Raven. There were also big Grimm which would be difficult to kill without dust. The Nuckelavee was like that, too.

"Well what do you think, Zangan?"

"The kid seems trustworthy." He shrugged. "He can teach her things I don't know. It might save her life one day. He also attended Beacon. He can let her know the sort of life she'll be in for at the Academies."

"Beacon… were you there when it went down?" Peach's father asked.

"I was," I answered easily.

Peach looked up at me with her bright pink eyes. "You were at Beacon? What was it like?"

I laughed at her curiosity.

"Peach." Her father warned. I waved him off.

"It's alright. My time at Beacon was the best. It was a lot of hard work though."

"Did you fight big Grimm?" She asked.

"I did."

"I knew it." She pumped a fist. "He fought real Grimm."

"I can show her some of what I know. I can teach her how to fight them."

"You had to fight Grimm while you attended?" Her father asked. "Or just when the academy went down?"

"Both," I waved a hand and answered. "Initiation was us fighting Grimm."

"I see…" He looked deep in thought. "I don't want you fighting a lot of Grimm. The idea makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm going to be a huntress. That's the whole point."

"You're right. Of course you're right."

"And I've been that high up in the mountains before. I've fought Grimm like that. It's just Beowulfs and Creepers. I'll be safe. It's all a learning opportunity."

"Very well. Mr. Huntsman, Strife, was it? You'll look after my daughter?"

"No harm will come to her. You have my word."

She pumped a wrapped fist in the air. "Dust explosions here I come."

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We made our way into the mountains, out of Nibelhiem, and needed to set up our tent for the night. It was not as long into the journey as I would have liked. In typical Neo fashion she sat and watched me set up everything and cook dinner.

"So how do you set up explosions?" Peach was shaking with excitement. "And will you show me some of your magic, too?"

"It's not real magic," I explained. "You'll occasionally run into a real dust sorcerer. Someone who can do all kinds of things with dust. I just know how to use it in its raw form. Primal. I don't even know how to eat it"

"Eating it?" She laughed.

"It's not actually eating it. It's putting it in your body so that you can use the power. You can actually eat it I suppose or you can just stick it in your flesh and it sort of slides into you. Into your aura."

"But it's still magic, right?"

"A little. But it's like comparing a first aid kit to a hospital staffed with doctors. I'm a bit of a neanderthal."

"Oh I don't believe that. You seem smart."

"You've only just met me. Give it a minute."

She laughed again, her eyes were bright. "Show me how to use dust to make explosives."

It was easy enough. I showed her how to set it up with a circuit, a battery, and a switch.

"The switch is the complicated part. You might want to learn about how radio signals work if you want to be able to blow them up remotely."

"But that's it. Just a circuit and a crystal and that's it."

"It's not rocket science. It's really simple. You can pretty easily make a landmine like this. Just bury it with a trigger on a plate underground and bing-bang-boom. You've got yourself a trap. I cornered a pretty big Grimm like that once."

"What else can you do?"

"You can throw it really hard."

She gave me a questioning look.

"Look you just throw a dust crystal hard enough and fast enough and it works. It explodes and unleashes the effects."

"That sounds too easy. It's supposed to be all hard and complicated."

"Well it shouldn't surprise you. They have to move it around all safe in containers for control. Too much disturbance and the stuff just goes off. Even in powder form."

"But you don't use it in powder. Because you can use it raw."

"That's right. Let me show you."

I handled a yellow crystal and crushed it. Lightning ran up my arm and I cast an arm forward. Lightning struck the tree from my open palm and burnt a hole in it and part of the tree to ash.

"Wow…" she breathed. "That's what you meant."

"Yeah. It's not quite what a real dust sorcerer can do but it's closer. I just unleash the power a little more controlled."

"And that's not the same as eating it."

"No. And I can't show you because I'm not a dust eater, either. But as I understand it you can just shove the crystal through your skin or into your mouth and the crystal becomes a part of you. It changes your aura."

"I see. Can I try?"

"Which one?"

"That blast that you just did, not eating it."

"Sure. Why don't you try fire? It's very dangerous so after you crush the crystal you'll be able to feel the power. Then you've got to let it go or it'll explode in your face. It's still risky."

I handed her a red uncut crystal and she held it up to the light. She was looking at how it shone unlike any other substance in the world. The light always came through it red. It always seemed to bounce around impossibly inside the meta-material.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded.

"I just crush it then I let it go?" She asked.

"Pretty much. You'll be able to feel the power. It'll feel hot, like your arm is on fire."

She nodded.

She crushed it and murmured, "I can feel it. I feel the power."

"You need to let it go!" I told her urgently. She was just standing there with the power coursing through her.

She tried but the flames blew up in her face and knocked her on her ass. Her jacket was singed slightly, revealing her tank-top underneath.

"I told you to let go."

She wiped her ash cover hands off on her pants. "Thanks. I wasn't sure how though. Can I try it again?"

"I messed up my first few times too." I handed her another red uncut crystal.

She inhaled deeply. Then she crushed the crystal and I watched the flames run up her arm. Then she cast her arm forward and a fireball shot free. It struck the same tree I did and the pine roasted for a pleasant smell.

The snow was coming down hard enough that the fire wouldn't spread. It was too damp and too cold.

I pumped a fist. I wasn't an incompetent teacher. And she hooted.

"That's how it's done," she called out into the night.

"Well done."

"Can I try it again? With the lightning ones maybe?"

"Not tonight, no. You might like to change now. I hope you brought a spare coat."

She looked down at her arm. "Oh shit, I didn't even notice. The heat of it all. Yeah I have a spare one."

She walked over to her bag and changed her coat.

"Thanks Cloud, you really helped me."

"It was no problem." I smiled. This felt like real good. It had been a long time since I felt that. What with all the murder and chaos and all. It made me feel like I was a good person again. Even if it was just for a moment.

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-WG

#jaune arc #cloud strife #rwby #ff7 #ffvii #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!Jaune arc #tifa lockhart #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #lancaster #neo #neapolitan #motion sickness

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themurphyzone · 4 years

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104 Words for 104 Days: Lemonade

It’s Candace appreciation hours! I wanted to do a Candace and Vanessa conversation because of CATU.

Jeremy looked so cute in his Slushy Dawg uniform. Well, he looked cute in any outfit, but the Slushy Dawg hat just added an extra layer of adorableness. Candace snapped a photo on her phone while Jeremy took a customer’s order, ducking behind the wall against her table before he could look up.

“Total keeper,” Candace giggled, unable to stop the high-pitched squeal that made people stop and stare like they’d never seen a teenage girl in love before. “The sunlight bounces off his hair perfectly in this one.”

She raised her phone again as Jeremy bagged several hot dogs, all wrapped neatly in tin foil. No wonder every Slushy Dawg manager in Danville and Mt. Rushmore fought over him. He was the best guy for the job with that award-winning smile.

“Hey, Candace. What’s up?”

Candace shrieked, slapping her hand against her mouth and almost losing her grip on her precious phone. She whirled around, her knee banging painfully on the table rim. Luckily for her, Jeremy was too busy to notice.

Vanessa was holding two medium-sized cups of lemonade, a purse and small wallet tucked in an awkward position under her arm. Despite that, Vanessa just radiated casualness.

Caught by the coolest and most mature girl she’d ever known. Candace mentally apologized to Stacy, wondering if she was breaking some BFF-practically sisters code for even thinking that way.

Candace leaned against the table, propping her head up with her elbow. “Yo, Vanessa. ‘Sup with you?”

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was too casual.

“My dad’s scheme involves chicken and waffles, so I got out of there before he could make the entire place smell like poultry,” Vanessa said, thankfully not commenting on Candace’s failed attempt at casualness and making things more awkward. “Mind if I join you for a while? I’ve got time to kill and a spare cup of lemonade here.”

“Sure thing! I’m just waiting for Jeremy’s shift to end. Then we’re going out for dunch. It’s like brunch, but it’s a cross between lunch and dinner,” Candace said as Vanessa settled on the opposite side of the table. Vanessa set the cups on the table, sliding the spare lemonade and a wrapped straw to Candace. She tucked her wallet into the purse, setting them in the space between her and the wall. Even Vanessa’s purse was goth with purple highlights. Just enough to get the point across without being overly edgy.

“That’s nice,” Vanessa said.

Candace glanced at the rest of the packed food court. She prided herself on people-watching, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like they’d hang out in the same clique as Vanessa. “So why do you have two lemonades anyway? I mean, it’s a great drink but-“

“-you thought I was a black-coffee-just-like-my-soul kind of person?” Vanessa finished. There was a tiny mischievous smirk on the corner of her lips.

Candace laughed, maybe a little too loudly. She caught herself just in time. “HA! I mean…no way! I would’ve totally pegged you for the latte type! Cause lattes are cool! And trendy! And hip! And…I’m gonna stop talking now.”

To her surprise, Vanessa laughed. “Joke’s on you. I prefer cappuccinos.”

“That was my second guess.” Candace covered her lie with a long sip of lemonade.

Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos. Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos…

“Anyway, there’s a new lemonade kiosk and I was thirsty,” Vanessa said. “Buy One, Get One Free deal this week to celebrate the grand opening. Tried telling the cashier I was by myself, but he insisted on giving me the extra cup because he didn’t want the owner-slash-mascot to accuse him of stealing corporate secrets for the orange juice empire, whatever that means.”

“Owner-slash-mascot?” Candace echoed.

Vanessa pointed behind Candace. Shrieks erupted from several families as a large man wearing a hat decked out with lemons jumped onto their table, disregarding the half-eaten burgers and fries. Whatever lunch was left was quickly snatched away before the man trampled them underfoot.

“BOO-YAH LEMONADE IS IN BUSINESS, BABY!” he screeched, pumping his fists into the air and being oblivious to the crowd’s general annoyance. “GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE COLD AND FRESH! LEMONADE RULES, ORANGE JUICE DROOLS!”

“Mall security team to food court! Code Yellow! The owner-slash-mascot of Boo-Yah Lemonade is being annoying again! I repeat, Code Yellow!”

As a mall security team thundered up the escalator, the man leapt off the table and shoved people aside in his hurry to get away.

“I’M A PUBLIC NUISANCE FOR THE GLORY OF LEMONADE!” his voice faded away as he ran into the nearest department store. The crowd parted to let the mall security team through, then went back to their regular weekend at the mall schedules as if nothing had ever happened.

Vanessa swirled her lemonade with her straw. She was probably too used to craziness to be affected much. “So have you watched any of my DVDs yet? Have you gotten to Le Coeur Noir De Douleur et de la Tristesse Douce?”

“Is the goat head supposed to visually indicate the woman’s headstrong nature?” Candace asked. She wasn’t mentioning that she couldn’t pronounce the foreign film titles at all.

Vanessa shrugged. “I thought it represented her childhood on the farm before the loan shark took away the goats as payment for her father’s debt, but your guess is pretty good too.”

“Real art is so confusing,” Candace admitted.

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s so fun,” Vanessa said.

Then Irving passed by their table, holding several large posters with two very familiar faces printed on them. Candace snatched a poster from the top of the stack, startling Irving into dropping the rest.

“Hey, what gives?” Irving grumbled, but Candace and Vanessa ignored his protests.

The poster featured her brothers, an elaborate outdoor battle arena as the bustworthy project of the day, and their backyard as the location. The three prerequisites to any bust.

Dunch would have to wait. It was busting time now.

“Could you tell Jeremy I need to go bust my brothers? He’ll understand,” Candace asked. She tried to fold the poster for easy carrying, but it was too large for her purse and her skirt lacked pockets. Then she crushed her empty lemonade cup and dropped it into the garbage can. “I��ll come back when I’m done.”

“Alright. Nice hanging out with you.” Vanessa waved, and Candace almost tumbled down the escalator in her haste to return the gesture, keep the poster from being ripped, and call her mom at the same time.

But she managed to speed-dial her mom, cackling maniacally as she tore through the mall and weaved around shoppers, only managing to lose a third of the poster in the process.

“MOM! PHINEAS AND FERB ARE HOSTING A HOLOGRAPHIC BATTLE ROYALE BETWEEN ALL FOUR PLAYING CARD SUITS!”

o-o-o-o-o

Vanessa walked up to Slushy Dawg once the line of customers thinned. Jeremy wiped a spot on the counter, smiling brightly before she even got to the register.

She could see why Candace was so enamored with him. Jeremy was either a really good actor or just oddly calm when it came to retail. No wonder Candace felt comfortable enough to push back the time on short notice.

She never could’ve done that with Johnny, and she and Monty needed to coordinate timing on their dates to avoid parental outrage.

“Welcome to Slushy Dawg! May I take your order?” Jeremy asked.

Vanessa shook her head. Slushy Dawg would never get any better, but she kept that comment to herself. “I’m not ordering. Just here on Candace’s behalf. She’ll meet you for dunch once she’s finished busting her brothers.”

Jeremy chuckled. “That’s Candace for you.”

“She’s really running all the way to the suburbs?”

“Candace has a lot of endurance.”

“That’s really cool,” Vanessa said.

“I know, right?” Jeremy beamed.

Candace was so lucky to have an understanding boyfriend. It was definitely a breath of fresh air from what she usually dealt with.

#phineas and ferb #candace flynn #jeremy johnson #vanessa doofenshmirtz #fanfiction #104 words for 104 days #canderemy

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lawrenceop · 4 years

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HOMILY for 17th Sunday after Pentecost (Dominican rite)

Eph 4:1-6; Matt 22:34-46

“Love God, and love your neighbour” – this summation of the “great commandment” is so well-known. But maybe we know it too well because we often miss a crucial part, the bit that always strikes me most: “Love your neighbour as yourself” (Mt 22:39). And then I wonder, do I actually love myself?

For there always seems to be something about ourselves that we don’t love: our weight, our looks, our bodies. And so, many people religiously take themselves to the gym, or put themselves on special diets, or even undergo surgery to change their bodies. Or maybe we just don’t love who we are now – we feel like a nobody. And so some think that buying a new smartphone, or becoming a social media influencer, or even having the ‘right’ friends can make them somebody. But, often, what we’re doing is just finding different ways, through possessions or status or achievements to mask our fear – a fundamental fear of being found out that we’re really a nobody. Or at least, that’s how many people can see themselves. And it’s mainly because they don’t really love themselves. For, very often, many people can just about manage to love a version of themselves, a version that’s either acted out or projected into the future. And, sadly, for some people, belief in God and having a religious faith adds to the pressure – some might feel that we need to perform and behave properly and prove our worth to God.

But not if, as St Paul says in the epistle, we were “called to the one hope that belongs to your call”. For our hope is not placed in ourselves and our worth and on what we do. Rather our hope is in Christ and on what he has accomplished once and for all on the Cross. As St Paul says, our hope is in “one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one Father of us all.” And so, our Gospel, our Christian Faith, the Faith of the Church, says that God is Love.

What this means is that we don’t have to prove anything to anyone. God just loves you; he loves me. And the proof of God’s unchanging love is the fundamental fact that you and I exist; we have life and being. For our very being, and all that is – all created things – are constantly held in being, maintained in existence, by the power of God’s Love. If God stopped loving us, stopped willing our being, we would simply cease to exist at all. Hence, we Christians know that the fact that we’re around at all is because God, pure Love himself, simply wants us to be. We don’t have to prove our worth – it just matters to God that you and I exist. For in God’s eyes every human person is a somebody, and he loves each and every human being so much that he became Human alongside us, and suffered and died for us. “One Lord, one faith, one baptism”, says St Paul. And through holy Baptism, Christ claims us for himself, and says that we belong to God our Father.

It was with joy, therefore, that I read in the newspaper this past week of the baptism of a child called Wilfred. He was baptised at Westminster Cathedral, and so saved from his sins, and incorporated with you and me into the Mystical Body of Christ. Together with him, and indeed, together with all the baptised, no matter what they have done, we objectively share through this one baptism: one Lord, one faith, one hope, one Father of us all.

I was especially dismayed and surprised, therefore, to see a number of Catholics going online and decrying this baptism because of the moral actions of little Wilfred’s parents. Wilfred Johnson’s father, as it happens, is currently Prime Minister of this country, and Wilfred’s mother, Carrie Symonds, is herself a Catholic. The moral irregularity of their relationship, and the personal morality of the parents of Wilfred is, for some, an impediment to Wilfred’s baptism. Some have said, shockingly, that Wilfred should not have been baptised because he had such unworthy parents who had done such scandalous things, and were living in sin.

In reply, let me turn to St Paul: “God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.” (Rom 5:8) The problem, it seems to me, is that some Catholics still think that man has to be worthy of baptism; that we have to prove our worth before God before he can love us, before we can have access to his grace. But this is heresy. Last Monday was St Matthew’s feast day, and the Gospel for that day reminded us of Our Lord’s rebuke to the Pharisees: “Go and learn what this means, `I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mt 9:13) For again and again the Lord confronts us with this basic awesome truth: that one is called into being; that we exist and have life; and that he offers us the grace of salvation not because we are lovable, but because he, our Saviour and God, is Love. But if we do not know and experience the gratuitous love of God, then it is harder to love ourselves, and even harder, then, to love others.

We find the fact of God’s love hard to to grasp because our experience of love is often far too human – there is always some self-interest in our human loving which is why we have an anxiety about not being ‘good enough’, ‘pretty enough’, ‘funny enough’, &c. for others to love us. But God’s perfect love means that he gains nothing from us, needs nothing from us, wants nothing from us. Pure Love just wants to give, and pour himself out for our sake, for our good, for our delight. Thus God gives us life and salvation as a gift which means that your very existence, your being, you, are a gift; a grace.

Ours, therefore, is a Gospel of grace, and this is the crux of our Christian Faith. Do we believe in this pure Love? Do we believe that God loves us even if we think we’re unlovable? Indeed, God loves me, even if others think I’m unloveable? Too many people think that God’s love is conditional, and that we have to earn God’s love, and this terrible heresy keeps many people away from the true Faith. Therefore, St Paul proclaims our “one hope” in Christ alone, and in his love for all men, made visible on the Cross. Many people say they do not believe in God, but we Christians say that regardless of that God believes in them, which is why he gives life to all people – both good or evil – and he offers salvation to all Mankind through Jesus Christ… even if your dad is Boris Johnson! Only our God of Love is like this, and it is him the Church bears witness to, it is him that we preach.

Belief in the gratuity of God’s love for you, for me, is the most crucial thing if we’re to live out the great commandment. Hence Pope Benedict XVI said: “Those who are unloved cannot even love themselves. This sense of being accepted comes in the first instance from other human beings. But all human acceptance is fragile. Ultimately we need a sense of being accepted unconditionally. Only if God accepts me, and I become convinced of this, do I know definitively: it is good that I exist. It is good to be a human being. If ever man’s sense of being accepted and loved by God is lost, then there is no longer any answer to the question whether to be a human being is good at all.”

Brothers and sisters, if we wonder why so many in our world are sad, joyless, and in despair, and many turn to the false acceptances of drugs and pornography, it is because tragically many of us do not love ourselves. And we cannot because we do not know the profound love of God. We might have been told it, but we have not experienced it. The Dominican theologian Fr Herbert McCabe suggests that if we want to know God’s love, we must begin with gratitude, which means being thankful for what is, thankful for the gift of being alive, with my particular gifts and circumstances, and not just wishing that things were different, that I was better looking, thinner, cleverer, richer, or whatever. Rather, ponder these words of St Paul: the one God is “Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all.” Sometimes, this love for myself, and gratitude for who I am requires an act of faith.

Therefore, McCabe says that “it is our faith that God loves us that makes us able to love ourselves and, through that, to be grateful for the gift of ourselves. This gratitude for being is the first thing we mean by loving God”. From this comes gratitude for the gift of my person, my humanity, of me, which means that I don’t want to harm myself by sinning. Rather, I love myself, and so I love God by trying to to live and use my body, my mind, my whole being in a way that glorifies him, the Giver of every good gift (cf James 1:17). This is what it is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Mt 22:37) And then, finally, we can love our neighbour as ourselves. This means that we are grateful for who they are, that they exist, and we see the other person as God’s gift. It means that we delight in them, and in their being around. And it means that we care for their happiness and flourishing too which is why we want to reach out to them, and we rejoice when they are baptised and can receive the sacraments, and we pray for the grace of repentance and for a daily deeper conversion to Christ throughout their lives. We pray that they will love God more and more. This is my prayer for Wilfred Johnson, and for his mum and dad, and indeed, for all people, for this is how I can best love my neighbour: I pray, in the words of Our Lady of the Rosary at Fatima, that God will “lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of God’s mercy.”

Photo credit: Crown Copyright

#baptism #salvation #love #self #God #neighbour #charity #Wilfred Johnson

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a-world-in-grey · 4 years

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Take My Breath au - Roadtrip (Duscae)

Some bad, some good, some cute - and some of Sola terrifying the shit out of Ravus. @secret-engima because hey, we get to see Ardyn and Sola exchange words!

-Sola has to admit that helping Uncle Cor take out the Norduscaen blockade was cathartic (though the exasperated why me look he gave her after she walked in the front gate with the rest of the Retinue, glaive across her shoulders and she cheerfully announced that being the distraction was fun was completely unnecessary) and she’s in a much better mood as they wander through Duscae looking for more royal tombs.

-They pick up a couple hunts - including a damn behemoth so Prompto can ride Chocobos, but in the face of Prompto’s delighted expression no one can begrudge the blonde - and Sola heals a few people from what looks like poison. Black crawling through their veins that feels like a smothering, choking fog as Sola pulls it into herself. She frowns as her magic fights off the poison, but sluggishly, taking hours, even days where normally she’d be fine in a manner of minutes.

-It’s odd, but her magic beats it off as it does everything else, so Sola simply keeps her gloves on and jacket sleeves down to hide the black creeping up her hands and wrists. The others would only worry, and she’s fine.

-Until she’s not.

-Until the poison in her veins are creeping up her forearms, up her arms, and she’s vomiting up black goo almost every night. Fortunately, she has her own tent - as big as Gladio’s is, there’s no way to cram four people inside when three of them are six feet tall, and Gladio is... Gladio - and a decade of having hanahaki has taught her how to hide the fact that she’s getting sicker every day.

-In Lestallum, Sola crashes hard when they reach the Leville. She sleeps in later than Noctis even, and wakes up after Noctis has left with Iris to tour Lestallum. Ignis returns first, and it turns out that Pelna and Axis are in Lestallum and Sola takes the chance for an update.

-She even waves off the Chocobros when they go to find the next Tomb, instead going out to get takeout and finding a discreet place to have lunch and talk about glaive operations.

-Then lunch gets interrupted by that same silky tone Sola is coming to hate. She’s not the only one to react violently, weapons whirling through the air. Ardyn casually sidesteps them all. His casual remark that Sola’s finally found herself a Shield is met with a snarl from Axis, but Sola waves both Pelna and Axis down. They cannot afford to start a fight here - too many civilians, too many refugees that cannot afford Imperial attention turning to the city - no matter how much Ardyn deserves a knife to the kidney.

-Then Ardyn grabs Sola’s hand, pushing her sleeve up and revealing the black poison stark against pale skin before Sola can wrench her arm away. But Ardyn knows what this is, mentions that it is the Scourge her little brother is fated to defeat, even if at this rate Ardyn doubts Sola will live to see it. Pelna and Axis still dangerously, and Adryn leaves with a vague comment of wondering how Sola will go.

-Sola, Pelna, and Axis return to the Leville, where Sola pulls Jared aside and asks him to look into the Starscourge - and what happens to those who are infected with it. It means revealing her infection to Jared and making the man promise not to tell the others, because Sola can feel it now. She’s dying, and unless they miraculously find a cure, Sola won’t survive.

-Pelna and Axis are not happy. They argue with Sola when Sola refuses to divert Kingsglaive forces to researching the Scourge. She tells them that they don’t know if there is a cure, and it’s more important that they continue to fight the Empire. Pelna is named Second, and if when Sola dies, he will be Chief.

-Unfortunately, Iris overhears enough and bursts into the room to confront Sola about it. Sola sighs and lets Iris look at her arms with trembling fingers. She has Iris promise not to tell the others, because they need to focus on protecting Noctis, not her. Iris nods, and Sola kneels down to wipe away Iris’ tears. Especially because Iris sniffles that she’s going to leave her Shield all alone. The glaives blink down at Iris, and Iris sniffs again, this time in part offense and says that she’s not blind. Axis is Sola’s Shield, and... Iris hesitates before she quietly adds that he’s family too, isn’t he?

-Axis is still as a statue, and Iris babbles that he looks a bit like her grandmother, and he acts a lot like Gladdy and her father around Noctis and the king. Iris shuffles when Axis still doesn’t react, and she asks why he never said anything. Axis, faced with a crying kid, immediately switches over into dad mode, and he gently tells Iris that he’s a bastard. It would’ve brought too much scandal for both Lord Amicitia and Axis’ family if Axis came forward. Iris pouts, but she grew up in Insomnia and while she wasn’t involved in court, she was still trained, and so she doesn’t try to argue against what she knows is true.

-But Iris is also whip smart for being only 15, and Iris asks if they were worried about the Council forcing Axis to be Sola’s Shield. Axis blinks, but Sola smiles at Iris and confirms it. It’s why Sola helps Axis hide his ties to the Amicitia, because both Axis and Sola wanted it to be their choice. Iris nods, hugs Axis tight, before scampering off to help Jared and Talcott with their new research project. Because she doesn’t want either of her older brothers to lose their King/Queen.

-Sola is out with Pelna and Axis, finishing up reports and orders and plans (and telling them to send some of the Ornata over to Galdin Quay to find one Dino Ghiranze) when she gets a text from Ignis that they’ve returned from the tomb and are going to check out the Disk of Cauthess. Sola texts back and tells them to be careful of the Imperial presence in the area. Sola doesn’t worry when they aren’t back by nightfall - Ignis texted her to tell her that they’d rented a caravan for the night.

-Axis and Pelna, being absolute shits, stick Talcott on Sola babysitting duty before they leave. A duty little Talcott takes to with enthusiasm. Sola sighs, flips her two glaives the middle finger where Talcott can’t see, and proceeds to bow to Talcott’s every whim. Because she’s always been a sucker for kids. (Iris, the traitor, hides giggles behind her hands and cheerfully waves as Talcott drags Sola to wander around Lestallum. Sola won’t admit it, but the sunshine hurts on her skin, hurts her eyes and she makes sure to buy sunglasses. Sola refuses to give up sunlight, even if it hurts.)

-Sola abruptly worries a lot more about her little brother when Titan wakes up and throws a fit. Lestallum isn’t too damaged in the resulting earthquake, but the sight of the giant Astral is... an eye catching sight to be sure.

-Then the Chocobros return to Lestallum by Imperial airship, and Sola learns that they’ve been interacting with Ardyn. Sola snarls, because herself is one thing, but he is not allowed to meddle with her little brother!

-Without the Regalia, the group is forced to rent Chocobos to get around. Fortunately, the birds can cover more terrain than the car, and it allows them to avoid the sudden Imperial blockades that have cropped up. Sola splits off from the group in order to organize and lead glaive operations in blowing up the blockades and bases.

-And, well, Sola’s seen the way Ignis keeps glancing at her, and she’s worried that he’s starting to suspect that she isn’t as well as she pretends.

-Sola gets a call from Cindy pointing her towards Archeole base, where the Regalia has been impounded and waiting for shipment to Niflheim. Sola leaves Pelna in charge of wider operations, and takes Axis and two other glaives with her to meet up with the Chocobros just outside the base.

-Sola does not step into the Haven. She tried that a couple days back and it was not fun, Sola does not recommend. It means she’s now running mostly night shifts so she can sleep during the day, but she’s managing.

-Instead, Sola leaves the two glaives to coordinate with Ignis and the others while she and Axis sneak around to scout out the base.

-Night falls, and Sola and Noctis’ group infiltrate at separate points. They proceed to sneak around and murder their way through the base. Sola’s group focuses on taking out as many MTs and imperial forces as possible, while Noctis’ group heads for the main generator and the Regalia.

-At several points, Sola calls forth bursts of sunlight to disorient the mech sensors. It sears through her veins like nothing has before, but it’s the best option she has so Sola forces herself to continue through the pain.

-Frankly, Sola thinks Noctis calling down Ramuh to smite the generator is overkill, but the glaives are an Awe.

-Ravus has just pushed Gladio back against the Regalia when about two dozen weapons materialize around him. And Sola slinks out of the shadows, all predatory grace and lethal smile. “Hello, darling.”

-Ravus doesn’t dare move. Not with the blades pressed against his throat, against eight different spots that will kill him instantly if Sola wills it. With the two blades pointed at his eyes and the gun against the back of his head.

-He’s seen the power of a Lucis Caelum armiger. It’s not something he ever anticipated being on the other end of it.

-Sola’s almost a foot shorter than him. That doesn’t stop her from using the tip of her wickedly sharp blade to lift his chin. “Tell me, darling,” And Ravus has never heard an endearment sound so threatening, “why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?”

-He says nothing. There is nothing to say, no convincing reason he can give for Sola to spare his life. And Sola knows it. Her smile widens until it’s less a smile and more a snarl of bared teeth.

-“I’m afraid I will have to protest, dear Princess.” Sola twitches as Ardyn materializes behind them, but her glaive doesn’t move as she turns to glare at the High Chancellor. Thank the Six, that blade is uncomfortably close to his throat. “Lady Lunafreya will be most put out if her brother dies.”

-Out of the corner of his eye, Ravus sees Noctis wince. Sola however, is unmoved. “This is war.” Sola drawls, “Lady Lunafreya will understand.”

-“Let him go, and all of you will be allowed to walk free with your Regalia.” Ardyn promises.

-“Please, I’m not that stupid.” Sola scoffs. “I let him go, you’ll kill all of us.”

-“You have my word, you will not be harmed.” The Lucians give Ardyn dubious looks, and Ravus honestly agrees with them. After Insomnia, what Lucian would trust anyone from the Empire?

-“Your word means nothing.” Sola counters with a vicious smile, “Try again.”

-Ardyn tilts his head thoughtfully. “Oh? It almost seems like you want a reason to spare him, dear Princess.”

-Sola laughs. It’s the most chilling thing Ravus has ever heard.

-“Hardly.” Sola says. “But your attempts amuse me.”

-“Sola,” Noctis intervenes, voice quiet but firm. “Withdraw. We’re leaving.”

-A breathless moment where Sola is utterly still, before her weapons shatter into shards of golden magic. Her hand forms a shape, and Ravus suddenly spots the three figures waiting in the shadows when they move, forming a formation and waiting for Sola to join them.

-“As my king commands.” Sola intones. She fades back into the shadows with inhuman ease, sparing a moment to send Ravus a smile that sends shivers down his spine. “Until next time, darling.”

-Those words are going to haunt his nightmares. And Ravus prays to the Six that there won’t be a next time. He’s not certain he’ll survive it.

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captainillogical · 5 years

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Devil’s Ballroom ch.1

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

Beach City was a small, lovely town, where pretty much everyone knew each other from the inner city to the boardwalk. You've lived your whole life there, and you loved it. It was home. It was also a really strange town, and you're pretty sure the world almost ended like six times in the last 4 years. Although honestly, you never had to worry about that much, since Beach City was also home to the Crystal Gems, and that Steven Universe who just always managed to save the day. So you’re told. Steven was a fun kid, and grew to be one of your good friends (he’s so insistent on being everyone’s friend. It’s very charming and you love him for it), but you’ve mostly spent your time at work this summer.

One of the easiest jobs to get is Funland, since that always tired Mr. Smiley is chewing through people constantly as the pay is shit, the hours are long, and it’s so hot. Like Mr. Smiley says, "Funland is funderstaffed". You feel like he says that to mock you a bit, since there’s just the two of you here. You really only cared to work there on your off season to help dad out with bills, and to see your best friends. Except THIS summer you guess, since all (2) of your best friends had to go out of town for summer either because of family get togethers or romantic getaways. Those bitches. And you were finally of drinking age this summer. You weren't about to let that get you down, or ruin any plans you’ve made yourself in the next upcoming weeks though.

You’re on the last forty minutes of your shift doing the work of four people. Emptying tills around the food court, cleaning tables, emptying trash cans, and jesus christ this task list seems longer today. It feels ever so fucking slow. And warm. You’re melting, you feel disgusting, and you just want a shower. Thank god it’s payday and you have the next two days off, because you seriously wanted to go out and unwind. See, there’s this newly renovated piano bar you’ve wanted to go to for weeks here locally in town, and you had planned on going with your friends.. but. You know what? Screw waiting on them. You’re going tonight. And besides, who knows! Maybe you’ll meet some new people and make a friend, or show your best friends that you can finally get a girlfriend!! Haha.. or at least get drunk enough to ignore the growing loneliness you’ve been feeling as of late, and desperately trying to ignore.

Funland never truly got busy, so you quickly closed the food court that had been dead for hours down. The last 15 or so minutes you spent sitting at the ring toss booth, and very thankful for the protection from the beating sun on your face.

"YOOOOO (Y/N)!!!" You hear a familiar voice shout from your left. You put down your phone (obviously looking at memes) and lean over the counter just in time to see Amethyst, accompanied by Steven, jogging over to your booth.

"Oh, thank god. Finally some human interaction." You responded to the purple gem as they reached your booth. Steven smacked down some tickets for the game and grinned.

"Just spending some time away from the temple". He says, and you nodded as you handed him two stacks of rings. He joyfully pulled them towards himself as Amethyst snickered.

"He means to say his A/C broke, and Pearl got tired of hearing him groan about it so she kicked us out." The short gem elbowed Steven playfully.

“Us? Why’d she kick you out too?” You say, giving Amethyst a pointed look. “That’s because Amethyst brought up like 7 of the junk fridges from her room to try to create some sort of.. open fridge cold air whirlwind right in the middle of the living room. It didn’t work as intended at all, though. I’m pretty sure those fridges were really old, or something, because 3 of them caught on fire and now we have scorch marks all over the floor. Anyway, Pearl was pretty mad about it. Sooooo, now we’re here!” Steven says while laughing, and attempting to toss the rings onto the obviously not rigged bottles.

"So anyway," Amethyst turns to you and leans her elbow on the counter. "Any big plans for tonight?" She steals half the stack of rings from Steven and starts chucking them in the most violent way possible without actually breaking anything. She somehow gets 3 perfect.

“Ughhh, yeah actually. I sort of convinced myself I’d go out and drink tonight.” You say with a tired grin. “I’ve been kinda daydreaming about not being here all day, and I’ve been wanting to try that one place.. the uh.. piano bar. That new one.”

“Isn’t that the place Bismuth helped fix up, and now bartends at?” Steven says to Amethyst. “She said this place was 1930’s themed with a stage, a spotlight, a piano and everything! It sounds like fun and I want to go.. a lot of the gems from Little Homeworld hang out there. Bis says I’m too young.” “Yeah,” You say, “You’re what, 17? You’re still just a baby, dude. If you want, I can try convincing Bismuth to let you in sometime just to sing.” You say to him and wink. Amethyst bursts out laughing. “You can try!! Bis won’t even let Peridot in!” She laughs. “She says her maturity ain’t the right fit. Whatever that means. She lets Lapis work there sometimes though when she wants, and Peri is still mad about it.” You watch Steven miss every single shot. How can this kid be the person who saved the planet? His aim is terrible. Amethyst also misses the rest of her shots.

“Have you guys actually ever won anything here?” You say out loud. “Only when Amethyst cheats.” Steven says. “And anyway, I really want some food. Amethyst. Pizza?”

“Duuuuuuuude. I could eat at least 10 pizzas right now. PLEASE.” She slaps her hand down on your booth. “Y/N. Go out tonight. Have some fun for the both of us, because it’s my turn to clean the kitchen, and if I skip out again Pearl WILL make me do my own laundry.”

“Wooooow, jeez, it must be so terrible to be self-sustaining and clean your own shit,” You’re smiling while chiding her, “and yeah, I will. Maybe next time come with me?” “And leave me all alone!?” Steven whines while starting to walking away. “Go hang out with Connie, you turd. At least you HAVE a girlfriend!” You reply. “You’ll find one eventually Y/N!! Maybe tonight!!” He yells back while waving before they both disappear from your field of vision.

“I really fucking doubt that.” You say to yourself, alone.

You busy yourself cleaning up, and walk over to the main building to clock out. You check your phone, and it looks like the group chat pinged. It’s Harper. FINALLY. Harper has been MIA for the last week. Well, not missing, per se, but she’s been on a roadtrip with her girlfriend of 6 months and didn’t invite you..or your other best friend, Alex. And yeah, you would’ve had to decline because your dad needs you to pick up some slack while he’s out on business, but.. STILL. Shit kinda hurts. But it seems like she finally got service and remembered you guys exist. It’s actually just a selfie with her and her girlfriend with a mountain in the background. She captioned it “I wanted to dive right into mt st helens but she wouldn’t let me get close enough.” You grin and decide to reply with, “Maybe next time Leah won’t let you pussy out”. Honestly, you really didn't mind being the 'single' friend most of the time, but sometimes you wished you could finally meet someone. Then you could also be sending cute couple pictures to your idiot friends, and finally feel like maybe you’re worth someone’s time.

Alex just responds to the chat with 14 flame emojis in succession. Before you can send any knife emojis back, your phone lights up with a call from your father. You answer on the second ring.

“Hey dad. What’s up?” “HEY KIDDO!!” Jesus. Your dad is enthusiastic and as loud as ever. “HOW ARE YOU TODAY, my sweet, dear offspring?”

“I’m chill. Getting off work. You?” You smile to yourself while grabbing the rest of your things to leave for home.

“Just got out of like, my fifth meeting today. It’s awful. I think they’re trying to kill me over here? I’m pretty sure they only paid for the plane ticket because they’re going to reap my organs after they LITERALLY bore me to death. I’m 100% sure my presence isn’t even needed for any of this.” He rants into the phone.

“Dad. You’re the lead project planner. You have to be there. It’s like.. your entire job.” You laugh into the phone. “I thought my entire job was so sit there and look pretty?” “Really? You think they’d choose you for that when they have Brian? Dad, come on. You know how beautiful he is.” You hear your dad sigh wistfully. “Yeah, that gorgeous bastard. Anyway. I’m real sorry in advance, but they’re extending my stay for another couple of days, and instead of being back tomorrow, I’ll be back next thursday.” He says, sounding apologetic.

“Oh, okay. That sucks.” You try not to sound disappointed. “Kiddo I’m sorry! If I could come home tonight I would get on that plane in a heartbeat. I hate this as much as you do.”

“I know. And it’s alright. I’m going out tonight anyway, and I’ll hold down the fort until next week yeah?” “You know you’re my favorite kid, right?” He says. “Dad, I’m your only kid.” You scoff into the phone. “That YOU know of! Love you!” and he hangs up. You roll your eyes, stuff your phone into your pocket, and head out.

Your house wasn't very far from Funland, meaning you could walk home alone safely even at night. Not that Beach City was ever an unsafe town.. if you conveniently happen to forget the aliens trying to destroy the town several times.

Within minutes you were unlocking your front door, toeing off your work shoes, and heading up into your room. You drop all your shit onto the floor, and flop on your bed. You wonder to yourself, should you be putting more effort into your appearance tonight? Steven did say it was 1930’s themed.. you don’t have very many dressy clothes. You feel like the only color you look good in is black, so you get up and open up your closet. Flowery dress.. God no. Overalls? Noooooo. You swipe through too many sweaters, honestly. There’s a couple decent things in here to put an okay outfit together, or.. wait. Ha! There. That cute black dress you wore 2 years ago for your aunt’s funeral. It’s the best you’ve got, you admit to yourself. And you even still have those black flats! Look, like basically zero effort involved.

You head to the bathroom with your things for tonight and take a shower. It feels nice to scrub off the layer of sweat and grime that come specifically from working at Funland. Oh and, not having to smell like carpet deodorizer and stale caramel popcorn is always a plus. Once out of the shower, you dry off and get into your clothes. You style your hair in your favorite way, and just put on a small bit of makeup. You know, small efforts help to feel less like a paper bag. You look nice for once, you admit to yourself.

You head downstairs, stuffing your phone and wallet into a small shoulder purse. Grabbing your keys, you put your shoes on, say goodbye to your cat, and walk out the door, making sure to lock it behind you. With your keys safely stored in your bag, you headed into town. The bar was roughly ten to fifteen minutes away, so you decided to hoof it. No need to waste money on a taxi when you had two perfectly toned legs, ya’ll.

#Spinel #spinel x reader #Spinel SU #Steven Universe #spinel self insert #su fic #fic #my fic #devils ballroom

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angelkitty54 · 4 years

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Who else loves the concept of badass, loner, tall, dark and scary anti-hero type dude accidentally acquiring a tiny, bright, happy, colourful child? Welp, here’s another FFXV AU idea featuring tiny baby Noctis defeating a would be assassin with the power of adorableness!

Also! Was reading this amazing fic: Nocturne (Which I 100% recommend you read like right now!) So now everyone is a ‘taur, as in a kind of centaur, but not limited to horses though. (There be cattaurs, dogtaurs, goattaurs, deertaurs and so on.) And right form the start there was also ABO dynamics, so that’s also in the mix. Lastly there be dad!Cor and MT!Prompto because I’ve also been reading Poor Wayfaring Stranger (another awesome fic which ya’ll need to be reading as well!)

...Yeah, I had a lot of ideas and inspiration so this whole thing just kinda exploded...

Anyway! On to the story!

So! Kicking things off here, King Mors had a bastard child. (Not what ya’ll thought I was start this off with, eh?) But he already had Regis and well, he didn’t need another heir nor did he want a conflict over succession to occur, so he got rid of the baby and erased it’s existence. Or at least, he thought he did.

Let’s not go into too much detail on what happens with them here (because if I do manage to actually write something for this it’ll be kinda spoilery...)

Mors dies, Regis is King, he gets married to Aulea and they’re about to have a baby. He never knew about the half-sibling and is under the impression he is the sole heir to the throne of Lucis, aside form some maybe incredibly distant cousins.

But the bastard child survive, and though they were denied the throne, they vow that their own child will not be... Backed by an extremist group that hates the current monarchy (possibly Ardyn and/or Nifflheim involvement here, but not sure yet), they hatch a plan. Noctis’s entire life and destiny is changed when on the night of his birth he is switched with the bastard child’s own son. (I need another name for this bitch coz calling them “bastard child” feels really mean...)

Regis has no reason to suspect the child the nurse hands him isn’t his own son. There’s also the fact that the Queen Mother has fallen ill, which is very distracting. (Conveniently so, wouldn’t you say?) The nurse feels little regret in their actions as this child is an alpha and a lion ‘taur (as is common in the Lucis Caelum line), whereas Noctis is an omega and a panther ‘taur (specifically a black leopard).

However, things don’t go quite according to plan. You see, Noctis was not supposed to live, but after learning he was an omega, the assassin couldn’t find the will to go through with it.

Now, this guy (going to use an OC here), he’s not a good person. And he knows it. He knows he’s probably gonna end up dying a dog’s death and he’ll probably deserve it too. While he is Lucian, he has no love for the royal family (his hatred for Nifflhiem trumps all). Still, this is just a job to him, it wasn’t personal. He’s not looking for redemption, but everyone has that line in the sand they won’t cross. Being asked to kill a baby was already toeing that line. An omega baby, however? That’s a step too far for him.

He lies to his client, pretends he did the deed and got rid of the evidence. Then he takes the baby and goes into hiding. He never planned to keep him, but somehow he became a single alpha parent to an adorable omega kitten.

So Noctis was raised by an assassin, while his cousin was raised a prince. No one realising the switch ever occurred. Thus not only is Noct’s life changed, but also the lives of the people closest to him.

(Gonna hopefully get something written for this in the near future...)

#ffxv #noctis lucis caelum #taur au #mt prompto #so many ideas #i wanna actually write something for this #i think i need a cowriter or something

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sluttyprincessinarizona · 4 years

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Holy shit, alright.

So, first off, hi. I’ve been having a tough few days because of various reasons that I may or may not get into in this post. I’ve been bottling up all of my feelings for too long and writing things down has always been easier for me than talking about them. Basically, this is me spilling a lot of my secrets so I can get them out of my head. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected or wanted from me, please skip this if you’re not okay with a post like this.

TW//: Talk of anxiety and depression, mental and emotion manipulation(?), mentions of death and suicide, and just dark shit in general. Proceed with a lot of caution.

Hello. My name is Malachi. That’s not my birth name but it is the name I choose to go by. I am a non-binary African American person that is trying their absolute best in the life I was given. Admittedly, I’m not fairing very well but I continue to try everyday.

I come from a fairly large family. 8 siblings in total, 1 on my moms side and 7 on my dads. My mom and dad never married, they broke up when I was five years old, and when my dad moved out, I stayed living with my mom. My mom is bipolar and manic depressant and my older sister, my moms daughter, was a spoiled brat until I was born. From very early on, my sister would constantly tell me that I ruined her life, that she wished I was never born, that she hated me, etc. Unfortunately for me, my mom wanted me and my sister to get along so I was always around her. She would read books to me and have me around all the time. Because of this, I’m pretty sure anyway, I grew up to be very gifted. I entered kindergarten a year early, and all of my school life felt easy. I was never challenged. Even the gifted classes I was out in were hardly anything to me. Now, I know this sounds like I’m bragging, but I take no pride in these words or my talents. I’ll tell you why later.

Growing up was surprisingly difficult for me. My mom was struggling to support both of us so we moved house a lot. We moved into our grandma’s house at one point. That was when it was the worst. My sister would constantly tell on me, but when I turned the tables on her, she’d beg me not to. She’d promise that she’d ever tell on me again, and then turned around and threw away said promise as soon as I let it go. I was the “problematic” child. My sister berated me constantly, telling me that I was bad at dancing and singing, which is still one of my passions to this day. It stuck with me. Everything does.

Fastforward to middle school. I had spent the last few years of my life with a less than agreeable sister and a difficult to approach mother. I’ll get into my father’s deal in a little bit. Elementary school hadn't been good either. I was at a higher level than lost of people, so I would occupy my free time with books. PE and outside activities never intrigued me as much as most kids, and so I was then deemed the class outcast all the way until about 7th grade. Up until 5th, I trusted others way too easily. Someone could walk up to me, tell me their name and say they wanted to be friends and within a week I'd be telling them all my secrets and family troubles. It was stupid really, but no one taught me any different. I was betrayed a lot, and everyone in our grade knew things about me that I'm embarrassed to admit. It was heartbreaking to 5th grade me. Why was everyone so mean?

I was always more of a tomboy, even as a child. The girls were too "girly" for me and the boys didn't converse with girls so I was, again, alone.

By the time I got to 6th grade, I had already adapted a system. Go to school, do well, read in your free time, go home. No friends, no acquaintances, nothing. It was how I kept my heart safe. And it worked for a while. Luckily, I moved schools when I came up with the system, so no one was too keen on approaching me in the first place. Then, 7th grade came around. And holy god, was it horrible. For some reason, I made a friend. Now, she was nice. Very nice. We bonded over Undertale, she was great. We're still friends to this day. But I kept her at arms length, cause I had just broken the system. That wasn't apart of the plan. Even worse, I made two more friends. And worse than that, I developed my first ever crush on someone. All of my plans were failing, my walls were crumbling. But when these walls fell, my heart grew weaker still, cause having friends isn't as great as it should be. Especially in middle school.

Our small group was riddled with mental illnesses, and we'd joke about wanting to die at least twice a day. It was how we coped, even though none of us made any effort to get better. It wasn't the best, but 8th grade was somehow worse.

Our group split right down the middle. Half of the group wanted nothing to do with the other half. And I was stuck in the middle. I liked everyone, they were all my friends. How could I possibly choose between them?

And then, as if things couldn't get worse, one of my closest friends in that group called me out. Apparently, I had become so dependent on them, on her, that I was becoming "too outgoing" and annoying, and she stopped responding to me. I had let her inside my walls and she still hurt me deeper than anyone else. I apologized profusely. I had gotten so used to not being a bother that losing her trust was one of my worst fears. It scarred me. I spent days sulking, just wanting to properly apologize to her. I wanted to hear from her, I needed to. Eventually she forgave me, but the damage had been done. That was when I had come up with a new idea. Another system. I didn't execute it, but the idea sprouted in the back of my mind.

8th grade was the year of my first panic attack. It was dumb, really. I woke up, got ready for school, and realized there was an assignment I forgot to do that was due later that day. I had had a perfect record. My homework was never late, and it terrified me to no end to think that my streak would end like that. I sat against the wall of my bedroom, covering my mouth and hoping that I was crying quietly, so I wouldn't wake my dad. No one to help me, no one to ground me. I was spiraling for too long. The only thing that snapped me out of it was myself. I had to go to school or I'd be late, that was how I got myself out of that darkness. Pathetic, I know.

High school was a different battle field in and of itself. Sophomore, Junior and Senior year were pretty good, so I'll only talk about Freshman year.

I was very scared of high school. All the middle school teachers said high school teachers were ruthless, mean and impatient. They kicked people out of class, out of the whole school. School had been easy but high school was different. The mere mention of it made me nervous. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned it before, but I have pretty bad anxiety. It's primarily social anxiety, but it gets bad at the worst possible times. I think I might have depression but I'm too scared to bring it up with my therapist, so that'll probably stay unsolved.

Freshman year wasn't very bad. It wasn't worse than 8th grade at least. What really got me was the workload. Self discipline, time management, all the mature people things that I had to learn. It made my anxiety skyrocket. I would be finishing assignments during lunch, mere hours before they were due. I was a rightful mess, on all accounts.

I had a big fallout with my dad, and that just made all of my problems worse. I'll get into that another time, seeing as this post is already too long.

Finishing high school was a breeze compared to earlier years. I made a small group of friends, many of which are onto bigger adventures in life. I haven't started college yet, but I haven't talked about what it is that I really wanted to talk about. The thing that's really been on my mind.

I'm nobody. I'm not just a nobody. I'm nobody. I honestly don't know who I am. My entire life, I had forfeited finding myself in favor of catering to others. I relinquished my personal freedom to make others life easier. I listened to everything my parents told me to do. No question, no complaints. I bend and broke myself to make my sister happy. I gave her so much of myself that I didn't have any left for me, yet she's still not happy with me. My friends don't know who I am. My mind is constantly thinking, I'm constantly drowning in dark thoughts and harmful words but they don't know. I hide it from them, I hid everything from them. I told them not to worry about it. And eventually, they did. It hurt. It stung. But it was my fault entirely.

My dad called me a robot once. I followed orders with feeling or hesitance. He was right. My constant thought process is all of my responsibilities. All of the things I need to do for someone else. Taking a break is impossible. Mt family needs me to function properly so they can live freely and without regret. I can't do that.

I can't eat what I want without making my mom angry in some way. I can't say or do or buy or receive anything without getting into an argument with my sister about how I'm somehow the spoiled one. Hell, I take a nap for too long and my mom gets upset at me. My dad is another ball game all on his own, so I won't talk about him right now.

What I'm trying to say it that my life isn't mine. My life is spent caring for others. Listening to other people over myself.

I'm horrible at taking compliments. I brush them off, deny them, pretty much anything other than saying thank you. It's not that I'm not grateful. I'm just tired of them. I've been showered with praise all my life, but it's bittersweet when you're taken advantage of every day. Taken for granted endlessly. They start to fade together.

Generic, everyday praise infuriates me to the highest level. Don't you dare say that cookie cutter bullshit to me. You think I haven't heard "oh you're so smart" before?? You think I haven't heard "you're beautiful" before??? I understand that you're just trying to be nice, but fuck off with that run of the mill fuckery.

Compliment me

How about you say, thank you for trying so hard for us?

Or, I see you helping out. I appreciate it.

Or, god forbid, you cab relax for once, I can take care of it.

Because god knows that I need a fucking break sometimes!

Oh, take a day off? Unless you want to come over here and handle my 101 responsibilities for this day alone, I suggest you shut that shit up right now.

Telling to take it easy doesn't fix the fucking problem.

One thing I know I do have are some major anger issues. That's not easily solved. None of my problems are.

At this point, I feel like I am my problems. Without my anxiety and my anger, who am I?

Who would I be?

Would I be better? Worse? Who would I have become?

I don't want help because help would change me. Help would get rid of me.

Whoever that me may be.

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fallintosanity · 5 years

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the common fandom interpretation of mts is that they’re half-daemonified people inside suits of armor, which isn’t true according to either the main game or episode: prompto

but what the actual fuck besithia was doing with the clones is really hard to work out.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15

“C’mon,” Future Prompto said over his shoulder as he sauntered toward the ramp down the side of the haven. “It’s a twenty-minute walk out to the water tower and if we take too long we’re gonna get sunburned.”

“Right,” Prompto said, and scrambled after him.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, following a faint track along the sun-hardened ground. In the distance, Prompto could see a short, squat water tower, probably their destination. His future self, despite what he’d said about sunburn, was walking at a lazy pace, his face tilted up to the sun again. Prompto trailed behind him, feeling awkward and unsure. How did you start a conversation with your future self, anyway?

He picked at the gauze that wrapped his right wrist in place of the familiar wristband Ardyn Izunia had sliced off. He couldn’t see his future self’s wrist; the crisp sleeves of his Kingsglaive uniform jacket covered it. The uniform looked surprisingly good on him. Prompto had never thought about joining the Kingsglaive, or even the Crownsguard, not seriously at least. The Crownsguard was for people like Gladio and Ignis, who’d trained since birth in all kinds of crazy fighting arts, who were muscular and powerful and brave. Prompto figured the former out-of-shape, shy kid who’d been too chicken to even talk to the other kids at school wouldn’t stand a chance.

No, Prompto had just planned to get through high school and find a job taking photos for magazines or something. Maybe see if Noctis wanted a royal photographer, though he’d known that was unlikely. Not that the Lucis Caelums didn’t have royal photographers, but like the Crownsguard, that was a prestigious role reserved for the country’s best. Not some nobody orphan with a barcode on his wrist.

But apparently his future self had ended up a Kingsglaive. He looked good, too - other than the unhealthy sunless pallor of his skin, which all four of the future adults had because apparently the sun went away in the future too, what the hell. But he was a couple of inches taller than Prompto, and while he was no Gladio, he’d filled out with muscle. Prompto’s own arms and legs were basically twigs, all skin and bone after a growth spurt he hadn’t planned for in his diet, and he felt constantly awkward and clumsy. His future self moved with easy confidence, the way Gladio did, the way the guards who followed Noctis everywhere did.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Future Prompto met his gaze. His mouth quirked, a small expression that wasn’t quite a smile. “Go ahead,” he said. “Ask.”

“Ask what?” Prompto said, nerves making his voioce less steady than he would have liked.

His future self waved a hand vaguely. “You have questions, right? Ask ‘em. It’ll be easier like that than if I just start babbling, you know?”

“Uh, right,” Prompto said. He rubbed at the gauze over his tattoo, took a deep breath, and blurted, “Your Noctis knows, doesn’t he? About… about the…” He waved his wrist. “Does that… does that mean you know, too?”

Future Prompto nodded. “Yeah.”

“So…” He almost couldn’t get the question out. He hadn’t thought he’d ever know the truth, and definitely hadn’t thought he’d learn it like this. “What is it? What does it mean?” He didn’t have to say what am I? If anyone would understand, it was his future self.

For a long moment Future Prompto said nothing, his gaze turned up toward the sky. Then he sighed and stopped walking, turning to meet Prompto’s eyes again. “You sure you want to know?”

Prompto opened his mouth to say Of course I’m sure, but the words didn’t come. Future Prompto wouldn’t be asking that if he didn’t think Prompto had a very good reason not to want to know. Instead he asked, very quietly, “It’s… it’s bad, isn’t it.”

His future self didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Prompto swallowed hard, looking away, eyes skating over the bright yellow desert landscape without really seeing it. But there really was only one option he could take. The barcode had haunted him his whole life; he couldn’t let it keep being a phantom holding him back. He said, “I’m sure. I want to know, even if it’s bad. Especially if it’s bad.”

Future Prompto started walking again. “Have you had that world history class yet, the one with, what’s his face, that one teacher who hated Noct?”

Prompto frowned at the non-sequiter, hurrying to catch up. “Mr. Malazan? Yeah, we have him this year, why?”

“Have you done the Niflheim module yet?”

“Yeah, last semester.”

“So you know about the origin of MTs.”

“Uh. I guess?” Prompto tried to remember what they’d covered. He hadn’t paid much attention to the lessons; he hadn’t thought he would ever need it, for one, and for two the whole idea of robot soldiers wigged him out. It wasn’t fair, Niflheim fighting with robots they could build and replace, while Lucis had to send humans to fight and die. “They were first created like thirty years ago by some Niff scientist, but didn’t start showing up in combat for another ten years or so.”

His future self nodded. “Thirty-two years ago from now. Forty-four from my time. The name of the scientist was Verstael Besithia. They didn’t show you a picture of him in class, did they?”

“They did, but it was some old grainy thing,” Prompto said. “All I remember was he was bald on top and kinda spotty. Why are you asking about this?” He wanted his future self to get to the point.

Future Prompto snorted. “Spotty,” he muttered, and shook his head. He held out a hand; blue magic shimmered between his fingers and suddenly he held a small, battered notebook. Prompto watched in amazement - even Noct didn’t use the magic of the royal Lucis armory that freely, and it was strange to see his future self treat it with the casualness of reaching into a pocket. Future Prompto handed him the notebook. “Take a look.”

Prompto frowned at him, but flipped through the book. The pages were covered with his own neat handwriting, and various newspaper clippings and photos had been wedged in between. Most of the handwritten blurbs were marked with the words “Transcript”, dates - all between ME 757 and 763 - and strings of letters that might have been abbreviated place names. The newspaper clippings were much older, dating back to 721, mostly from Niflheim and talking about Besithia and the production of magitek troopers.

Then he flipped a page and found a photo of himself staring back.

Except it wasn’t him. For a second he thought it was his older self instead, but that wasn’t right, either. The man in the photo was probably in his mid- to late forties, his blond hair fading to grey around the edges, his freckles turning into age spots above his beard. His outfit was ostentatious, brightly colored with a tall collar and broad shoulder pads, and matched the arrogance in his expression.

Prompto looked up at his older self in horror. “Who…?”

“Verstael Besithia,” Future Prompto answered shortly. His eyes had gone dark and shuttered, the way Noct’s did the rare few times someone mentioned the daemon attack he’d suffered as a child.

“But…” Prompto looked at the picture again, then up at his future self. They were damn near identical save for age. Even Gladio didn’t look that much like his dad. “He’s - he looks like—”

“Yeah,” Future Prompto said. “Noct mentioned where daemons come from, right? Last night?” Prompto nodded, not trusting his voice. Future Prompto continued, his voice flat, “Besithia needed daemon miasma to power his MTs. But using regular daemons didn’t work well, and when he tried using people who were in the process of turning, that didn’t work either because of something he called ‘ego death’. So he figured, why not use babies? They don’t have egos.”

His voice was bitter and sharp enough to cut, and Prompto flinched. His future self noticed and took a deep breath, visibly reining himself in, before continuing. “He cloned himself. He eventually figured out a way to speed up the babies’ aging without actually letting them develop as people enough to have egos. But before he did… some Lucian spy stole one of those cloned babies.”

Prompto stared at his future self, horror curdling his stomach; he was suddenly glad he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday. “That was—You mean—we were—”

Future Prompto nodded. “We were just one of thousands of clones meant to be infected with Starscourge and harvested for daemon miasma to power MTs.” He reached out and flipped the pages in the notebook Prompto’d forgotten he held, stopping on a page that had nothing but a photo taped to it.

A photo of tall narrow glass tubes, each one holding Prompto. A Prompto, a clone, one of many in a row, each with Prompto’s face and a barcode stamped on its right wrist.

“I was taking photos of every room I went into,” Future Prompto said tonelessly. “I figured the intel might be useful. I didn’t realize what I was looking at until after I took the shot.”

The world swayed and for a second Prompto had to focus on staying upright, on not collapsing to the hard desert rock and throwing up or passing out or screaming. The notebook fell from his fingers, shattering into blue crystal light before it could hit the ground. “But… but…”

Future Prompto said nothing. When Prompto looked up, his future self was staring at him, his expression grim. Prompto managed, “Noctis - your Noctis - knows? He knows?! And Gladio and Ignis?”

Last night, in the van, Future Noctis had said, It’s nothing to worry about. You’re fine.

Except Future Noctis had been wrong. How could Prompto be fine, how could he ever be fine again when he was—was that?!

His future self just nodded, and said softly, “They don’t care. They’re—It’s rare, people that good.”

“Does anyone else know? In the future?”

Future Prompto’s expression darkened and he gripped his own right wrist. “Everyone.” At Prompto’s horrified look, he added grimly, “Ardyn thought it would be fun to spread the news.” He met Prompto’s gaze, eyes cold and sharp and deadly. “He’s probably gonna do it again. He hates Besithia damn near as much as he hates Noctis, and Besithia’s dead in my time, so guess who he’s taking it out on. The guys are okay—” with a tilt of his head back toward the haven to indicate Noct and Gladio and Ignis— “but from now on, you don’t turn your back on anyone. Not strangers. Not people you think are friends.” His eyes closed for a moment, his fingers tightening around his wrist so hard the leather of his glove creaked. “Especially not people you think are friends.”

Prompto shivered. Despite the desert heat, a chill had seeped down into his bones, one he doubted any amount of sun or warmth could dispel. It was too much to take in all at once, too much to process, to understand. He couldn’t think, the photos of Verstael Besithia, of the clones in their tubes - him in a tube, hairless and placid and stamped with a barcode like the property he’d been created as - spinning through his brain. He doubled over, hands on his knees, breathing hard like he’d just finished a run, like he’d pushed himself past his physical limits only this time it was his mental limits, his ability to comprehend his own freaking existence, not who he was but what he was—

His future self hooked an arm around his shoulders, jolting him back to awareness. “Sorry,” Future Prompto said ruefully. “I didn’t…” He sighed. “I fucked this up. You need to know, but… it’s a lot to take in at once.”

That startled a laugh out of Prompto, watery and maybe a little more hysterical than he’d have liked. “A lot. Yeah.”

“C’mon,” his future self said, and ruffled his hair. “Let’s get to that water shed before we both get burned crispier than the steak when Noct’s cooking.”

Prompto snorted another almost-laugh, nearly choking on the hysteria before he wrangled himself under control. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Okay.”

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #chocobros #sanity's time travel fic #time travel #fanfiction #prompto argentum

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tsukishima44 · 5 years

Text

Never Have I Ever...cornered by my own kids

Class 1-A asked their homeroom teacher to play with them. One Aizawa Shouta couldn't help but to indulge them after what could be described as a hellish week. So he agreed. He didn't think they have a bigger motive. He also think that if Villain had an academy, they all would've passed.

"Never have I ever went to Nichoume"

At that sentence, almost each players finger went down, of course, except for their purest boy and the recently filthied girl. Kouda and Yaoyorozu looked around to see the spectacle displayed. Kirishima groaned when none of his fingers had survived the game after only one and half rounds. He swore internally that his friends must have placed a bullseye target on him. Beside him Sero smirked his usual devilish grin. Kirishima's brows raised in confusion, but his pal pointed one of his still up fingers, he still had 3 of them, to one of the most amazing view of them all.

Their homeroom teacher, one Aizawa Shouta or known as the underground hero Eraserhead, cursed softly when he stared at his remaining fingers which were quite many. However the man himself looked a little bit taken when he realized the smirked painted on his pupils mouths and eyes. It was down right scary, he would say it was a par to Nomu's strength and that said a lot. Ever since they knew that Shinsou was his adopted child, the purple headed boy tried not to blabber about their current home state.

"We don't have cats, sensei hates it" They have 4 and recently have another ginger fur kitten; "Nah, that scruffy guy is single" He was married for six years and the news never surfaced to the media. Not only because he was working underground, but his famous spouse managed to keep his mouth shut; "We usually buy take-outs to keep living. We both are a no no in the kitchen yet somehow Aizawa had one" Yes, he and Hitoshi was a hopeless cause in the kitchen but his lovely, hyperactive, loving spouse always made them food. If his spouse had works, they would put leave a simple microwave-heated food.

That's just how they were, Hitoshi lied while Aizawa gave no comment in his student curious questions. Until a wrong decision came, which was abandoning his works because his children wanted to play with him. He felt guilty if he declined because they had worked very hard in the past weeks. Aizawa should indulge them once in a while. What a wrong time to choose. As soon as the word "fine" came out of his mouth, he was sure he saw Midoriya and Mina's lips quirked devilishly at him while an excited Uraraka, Hagakure, Kirishima, and Kaminari pulled and pushed him to the common room. When they arrived, he swore a villain had infiltrated his dorm because each of them had this slightly cold aura only a villain would have...or a student with evil plan for their teacher would have. It had come down to this game called 'Never have I ever'. It sounded harmless, until they robbed him of his five fingers. Aizawa looked around to see the remaining players. Beside him was Mina and Sero with 3 fingers remaining, Bakugo 4 fingers, Iida 2 fingers, Uraraka 1 fingers, Midoriya 2 fingers, Todoroki 4 fingers, Hagakure 5 fingers, Yaoyorozu 2 fingers, Kouda 7 fingers, and lastly Shinsou 4 fingers.

"Never have I ever been in love with my best friend"

Sero's voice snapped him from his daydreaming to hear Uraraka's loudest groan as she had no finger left to play. Midoriya patted his best girl friend in the back. The others turned down one of their fingers, except for Iida. Then suddenly, as it was in the start of the game, every eye stared at his fingers. Aizawa gave a deep sigh before turning down one of his fingers. Unknown to them, Shinsou gave his adopted dad a small pat, his son also roped into this game. Then the others immediately started their whispered and small chats. Definitely scheming, Aizawa thought.

"My turn~ Never have I ever been married in my whole life"

Oh damn.

The whole room went quiet to see his four fingers remaining. He gave Sero a glare. He felt a bit happiness seeped when his student flinched at his stare.

He really needed to win this stupid game and look! It's his turn. His keen eyes searched for a single finger target. He saw Midoriya gulped nervously and Yaoyorozu anxious little quirk. Now what should he say.....

"Never have I ever tried to save my friend while using a disguise"

Midoriya spewed the tea he was sipping, Yaoyorozu blanched, Kirishima and Iida sported the same pale look. While Todoroki stared in shock.

"H-How--?" Kirishima's voice shooked.

"How did I know?" Aizawa grinned "Teachers eyes are everywhere" He was told by Mt. Lady, the same when he knew some of his children had went against his strict order to save Bakugo. He snickered when Midoriya slumped against Todoroki's left side and Yaoyorozu's frown. Behind her Jirou placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. With that, he could see his next target would be his friend's little brother.

The next person was....

He looked to his left to see Shinsou's grinning. His own son had betrayed him saying he was forced to play this evil enhanced game!!!

"Hitoshi!"

"Never have I ever pinned for my best friend for more than 5 years"

Aizawa gave a scowl. It was wrong for his spouse to retell their love story to Hitoshi. He regretted everything.

Reluctantly, under 20 pairs of eyes, Aizawa turned down one of his fingers, three remained up. Loud happy yells were shared in the game and everyone returned to their mysterious whispers. Seriously if this class didn't already worm into his hard heart, he would expel them all at once. In his vengeance, he almost missed Midoriya mumbling to himself. Not a rare occurence, but usually Uraraka wouldn't have her focus face and they weren't surrounded by any villains which meant one thing, they were plotting to use the remained pawns to be their tools.

"U-Um, ne-never have I ever slept in class"

Okay, that was a low blow. Whether Kouda meant sleeping while teaching nor in his student days he didn't know. It didn't make any change for him for he slept in all of them. Being a transferred GenEd student meant catching up as soon as possible and his sleeping time was lessened since then meaning sleeping a lot in his class. The only thing that saved him from being told of by his teachers were the fact that his score was one of the best, just slightly under his spouse. But that was not for them to know.

Aizawa sighed as he turned another finger down. He looked up again to get another surveillance data. The one finger people were Iida, Todoroki, and Mina. He might be able to escape this hell hole and return to his spouse arms while said spouse comfort him. All he needed was to escape a few round unscathed. However, all his hope crumbled when he saw the next person in line. Hagakure. Without seeing her, Aizawa just knew the little scoundrel was smirking. Puny little-

"Never have I ever have a husband!!"

-shit!

He felt eyes staring to his bone. Really these kids were creepy as all hell and back. Aizawa watched his lonesome pinky standing still. Dammit and he was so close!! He looked again to see whose turn next and yeah, it was so close. He just knew Midoriya knew what to ask next because his eyes lightened like a fresh charged flashlight. Todoroki, Midoriya's boyfriend and the next kid he probably adopted, him and his spouse had processed the paper needed, had nodded in return.

"My turn. Never have I ever married Present Mic"

He would laugh at the loud gasps coming from his students if not for the circumstance his secret was outted. He closed his eyes as he placed down his hand.

All at once, his kids yelled in happiness. Some of them shook Midoriya's hand and others shook each others hand for contributing the downfall of their homeroom teacher. Aizawa couldn't help but to give an amused scoff. Things his kids would do to know his secrets...

"Shouta! Hitoshi! Here is your- Oh! Hi kids!"

Aizawa facepalmed. His spouse has the worse timing ever.

"For fucksake, Hizashi.."

"Language!!"

His own husband reprimanded him. Hizashi was not even supposed to be here!! He had told Shouta that he had job at 8 p.m.

Beside him, Shinsou snickered with his phone screen glowing and a short message to Hizashi.

To : LouDad

Come bring our dinner to dorm's common room.

P.S the whole class knew about you guys

From : Purple Son

Hizashi was bombarded by questions. Before he answered any of them, the blonde hero snooped beside Shouta and pecked his hair. He placed the tupperware container on his frozen husband's lap and proceeded to answer each of them while his left arm circled around Shouta's waist. He munched the tamago sushi, took Hitoshi's favourite tuna, and threatened his kids not to tell anyone. Then he proceeded to continue enjoying his dinner and his husband cuddles. Maybe this hellish game was not so bad.

Notes:

#boku no hero academia #erasermic #eraserhead #present mic #class 1-a #no mineta #tododeku #dadzawa #fanfiction #ao3 #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi

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specialmindz · 5 years

Photo

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“*Sigh* Why...why do you do this? You know that’s not right.”

“...I’s ready to go Daddy...”

“No. No you’re not.”

“I’s ready to pay in da’ snow...”

“We’re visiting the king,” said Gaster, taking Papyrus’s boots and putting them on correctly.

He should be doing this himself.

“The king in the snow pace?”

“No.”

“He building a snowman?”

“NO.”

“alphys is sick baby bro,” said Sans opening a cabinet. “so i have to help dad work for the next few days. the king volunteered to babysit you for a while-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY?!”

“no pap-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY!”

“papyrus…”

“YOU GOTS TO TELL HIM I’S NOT AN EGG BIG BUTHER!”

“what...?”

“You gots to tell him I’s not an egg! The king be reeeaal tall and stuff so when he sees a tiny skelly baby such as myself, he only see mah bald widdle baby head and he probably think ‘wowie, I find-ed a tiny widdle egg on mah doorstep! I bet there be a baby chicken inside...I bedder sit on it, or is gonna get cold-”

“you’re wearing clothes bro.”

“Yeah, but he can’t sees em’ cause’ he too big...Imma draw a smiley face on my head. Where the markers be?”

“You’re not allowed to have markers.”

“Dat don’t mean I doesn’t need em’. Baby is NOT a butt-plug.”

“what’s a butt-plug?”

Gaster sighed, already exhausted. He didn’t want to bring Papyrus all the way to New Home, and he wanted to leave him there even less. King Asgore was the Underground’s only hope of escape at the moment...the only solid one at least. He was Gaster’s safety net of sorts if Sans turned out to be unable to teleport his brother past the barrier. Without the king, the royal scientist would be an even bigger nervous wreck then he was now, but no one else was willing to watch Papyrus and there was no way on earth the little troublemaker would leave them alone while they worked.

Picking up the baby bones with his wingdings so as to avoid being bitten, he looked the infant in the eye. “His Highness is very lonely Papyrus,” he said gravely. “and what’s worse is he doesn’t know the full extent of your horrendous behavior. That means he’s going to be spending a lot of time with you rather than simply leaving you to play his lost children’s video games; that being said, you need to be kind to him. If he dies, there will be no one strong enough to wield the human souls and break the barrier, understand?”

“Ooooh! Fluffy Buns gonna pay wit da’ baby?!”

“yep, so be nice to him bro. no hitting, no biting, no tearing anything up-”

“Okay, okay. I’s gonna be nice and quiet and just read books like a good bae.”

“NO BOOKS. Do you hear me? NONE. Do not read him ANY stories. He can read to you, but do NOT read to him, do I make myself clear?”

The last thing I need is an hour-long phone call from the old fool trying to find the right words to tell me how to raise my child.

Gaster got a lot of those from the queen long ago if he remembered correctly and they annoyed him to no end. Not just because she took forever to get to the point, but because she refused to even consider the possibility that HER kids were the ones that needed a talking to. In her eyes, it was always Gaster’s fault, not her precious Asriel or Chara.

Even though Papyrus spent most of his time around those two and I’M always working, it’s still somehow more likely MY influence, right.

I do wonder though, whatever happened to the old hag?

I know she abandoned her husband and the kingdom, but where exactly did she run off to?

“I can pay wit da’ snails?”

“You’ll do what he asks you to do.”

Papyrus blew a raspberry in the scientist’s direction, splattering him with drool.

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“have fun baby bro, and tell me everything when you get back okay? maybe if you’re reeeeally good, the king will help you get into daycare!”

“Absolutely not,” said Gaster, placing the baby bones under his arm. “sending him to daycare is out of the question with its current management.”

“huh? why? what’s wrong with undyne’s mom?”

His father shook his head. “I know the woman who works there personally. She uses her child’s temper as a tool for suing parents who leave their children at the daycare she now runs. Whenever Undyne throws a tantrum and hurts someone there, her mother accuses the parents of child abuse, claiming that despite Undyne’s reputation, the children keep trying to play with her because their parents order them to. She has the king completely convinced that they’re getting their kids hurt on purpose so they can sue her. It’s a complete lie of course, she used to work at the lab pulling the same money-grubbing stunts until I fired her.”

And this was BEFORE the Underground was such a poverty pot.

No doubt she’ll try to use Papyrus somehow, wretched woman…

“Her husband fought and died in the war and so Asgore not only sees her as a lover of children who does everything in her power to enrich their lives, but also sympathizes with her. He sees her as a single-parent with a troubled child living in a bad economy and thinks she’s selfless and kind, when in reality she’s as greedy as they come.”

“well...she can’t go doing that forever and ever and ever though right? even if everyone’s poor, the king will eventually figure out she’s lying. he can’t believe the ENTIRE underground’s out to rob her.”

Even if everybody IS poor, he should know he’s being punked. Not EVERYONE is gonna gang up on ONE person, especially if they need that person to watch their kids.

“He’ll figure it out eventually, yes...but for now, Papyrus needs you. He’s better behaved when you’re watching him anyway; now I expect the beakers to be in place by the time I get back Sans-”

“Nyeh? Snas not gonna tellyport da’ baby?”

“nope. dad wants to make me do all the prep work and use your trip to asgore’s as an excuse.”

Gaster rolled his eyes and left the lab. There was no point in retorting, Sans would never understand how lucky he was compared to the other children in the Underground. Unlike them and himself, he wasn’t a victim of poverty and no amount of arguing on Gaster’s part would rid the boy of the entitled attitude that came with living comfortably.

Lazy ungrateful brat...he really thinks every kid sits on their ass all day while their parents work. Preposterous. Back in MY day, we used to work in mines and factories at his age and both places were messier than the Nursery. We spent most of the money we earned on medicine just so we could work more and he’s complaining about setting up a few beakers...?

“I thought Sans Serifs made up for their lack of strength with superior intellect, but clearly I was wrong. Damn that Charles Dickens and his god-awful Oliver Twist novel! If Sans hadn’t gotten ahold of that book-”

“To be, or not to be! Nyeh hee hee!”

“That’s Shakespeare.”

“I has look-ed upon all da’ universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me.”

“And that’s Lovercraft.”

“Waz Lovecafe?”

“Dr. Seuss for adults; you know what it is, you just quoted it.”

“Is mac and cheese?”

“YOU JUST QUOTED IT.”

“Yeah, but maybe I read-ed it off the box?”

“I highly doubt any form of Kraft Mac and Cheese would put the words ‘horror’ and ‘poison’ on their box,” said Gaster tightening his grip on the baby bones. The spring platforms were dangerous in Hotland when you were carrying things. It made him (and a lot of other people he imagined) wish that the elevators were better maintained as good food was only really found at the Resort or in Snowdin. That meant people who lived in Waterfall not only had to brave the harsh climate of Hotland, but also somehow carry their groceries back home across the springboards if ever the elevators were to break down, which was often...and today.

“WHEEEEEEE! DO A FLIP DADDY!”

Despite the overpopulation problem, there just weren’t many people who knew anything about complex machinery. Some monsters knew about the compromise Asgore had made with the humans long ago, but most did not. The deal was if he worked together with them to destroy the Horrors, they would refrain from mass genocide and settle for the monster’s self-imprisonment within Mt. Ebott. The king, in his cowardice, took the agreement and kept it secret from all his people, aside from the handful of Boss monsters he needed to raise the barrier itself...Boss monsters that had to put the barrier up from the outside in order to get it to work, which resulted in their destruction. His Highness, claiming the reason for the team up was because the Horrors posed a bigger threat to the earth, was left with weak monsters of all sorts with different backgrounds. None were prepared for Mt. Ebott. They weren’t a group of scientists, engineers, or soldiers, they were simply confused citizens who were one day told to gather inside a mountain by their king before being sealed inside and fed a bunch of lies.

There’s no one left down here who knows how to fix the elevators except me now, thanks to Papyrus. Asgore’s lucky I was already in here before this place was sealed, or he’d have quite a problem.

It would’ve been nice if he could go back to what he was doing BEFORE the monster came to Mt. Ebott and began piling work on top of him. He wanted and had been studying the strange climate changes within the mountain, trying to hypothesize if the volcanic activity had anything to do with the strange weather and if the source of all magic really stemmed from the Earth’s core, or if it was just a chemical reaction; but it had been so long since he’d seen his notes, he doubted they hadn’t already been chewed up by the hellspawn under his arm. Luckily, skeletons had the lifespan of a monster, and Asgore not only knew about the lack of educated monsters in the Underground, but was doing something about it, putting emphasis on certain subjects in schools and introducing the students to daily logic puzzles so that the next generation would be more tech savvy. It would take a while, but by the time most of the children in the Underground reached adulthood, most of them would know the basics of at LEAST electrical engineering and be able to fix those damn elevators.

If Sans didn’t have one hp I’d absolutely enroll him, but I need someone to watch Papyrus and he’d most likely be killed by one of those bratty school children. He’s too shy, small, and weak to be near anyone immature...I can’t risk it. Especially when I’m so swamped with work.

“It almost makes me want to try again...make a new clone and split it in half, this time the RIGHT way...but if I make another mistake, I’ll have FOUR children...”

“Nyeh?! You’s gonna make more babies?!”

“Absolutely not.”

“I wish to have a widdle sister. Not like Snas, I mean a REAL sissy-”

“Sans is the closest thing to a girl that will ever come near you, and I can say that with the utmost confidence.”

“Undyne a girl...”

“You heard what I said.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“What?”

“Snas say, when he do dat, I’s supposed to say ‘who there.”

“...”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“Stop that.”

Opening the door, Asgore greeted the two with a warm smile. “Welcome Gaster, I’m so glad you decided to bring your little one in person rather than having Sans simply teleport him here.” He bent down until he was eye level with Papyrus. “You’re looking adorable as ever Papyrus, it’s nice to see you too! You look like you’ve gotten a bit bigger since we last saw each other, ho ho ho!”

“You too.”

“PAPYRUS! I’m so sorry your Highness-”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he means well.”

“NYEH HEE HEE!”

Handing Papyrus to Asgore, Gaster frowned as he watched the baby bones snuggle into the king’s chest...a tactic the infant usually used to distract the people he was trying to steal from.

“Get your wingdings out of his pocket. I told you to behave yourself!”

“He’s only curious my friend! I remember when my little Chara was still alive, they used to go through everything-”

“Where all da’ monies at? You’s a king aren’t you? You’s supposed to be wich!”

“Ho ho ho, you’ve got your brother’s sense of humor I see!”

“YOU’S NOT FUNNY!”

“We’re gonna have such a fun day!”

“ERRRNNN!”

“Alright, I’m heading off. I’ll return for Papyrus as soon as you call me,” said Gaster turning to leave.

“As soon as I call you?”

“Correct. When you reach the point where you no longer wish to watch him, give me a call and I’ll pick him up. One, two days would be nice, or whenever you feel like your life is in danger-”

“NYEHHHHHHH!”

“Ah! Oh dear, it’s alright little one, I’m sure he was only joking,” said the king, bobbing the infant up and down in his arms.

“He’s not upset. He’s only crying because that’s what babies do when their parents leave for work, or in my case, to go shopping. Papyrus will do what’s expected of other babies, as long as you’re watching him, in order to convince you he’s a normal infant…despite his exceptional talents. If he gets hungry, simply leave him by himself and he’ll fetch his own food, in fact, leaving him to his own devices is probably the best thing to do in general, especially if you’re at a loss.”

“Leave him by himself? That’s madness! I know he’s not a monster Mr. Wingdings and so should thus be raised differently, but my house is built for large creatures…my cabinets may as well be closets in his eyes! What if he gets into my cleaning supplies? He could be poisoned!”

“I’s going straight for da’ soap!”

“NO you’re not. He’s not your Highness. Remember, he’s a natural born liar and unfortunately, another trait he shares with his brother is he’s very attention-seeking.”

“Is you seeking mah foot up yo’ ass? Cause’ dat’s what it sounds like douche Daddy…”

Gaster didn’t respond. He simply turned and left, leaving behind a very confused and concerned king.

“We’s gonna read a book Fluffy Buns? Daddy said I could read alllll the books I wanted while I’s here…”

“Um…s-sure…” said Asgore, carrying the Horror into the living room. He sat down into his chair and watched as the baby bones used his wingdings to grab a random book from the shelf, all the while struggling to shake the uneasy feeling that had been steadily growing within him since he picked the infant up.

He was familiar with Horrors…he had fought them in the war after all, but he had little to no experience with their children. Apparently, the majority of baby bones were supposedly more intelligent than monster babies, though it did differ with each infant and had a lot to do with their typing. Verbal Fonts, which is what Papyrus was if he recalled, were the first to learn language and so were able to hold entire conversations at a very young age; entire coherent conversations. While other children struggled with multiple lisps, Verbal Fonts would speak clearly and be careful to only alter their speech enough to sound cute and maintain the love of the adults around them.

An intelligent infant is a dangerous thing…combine that with Papyrus’s ability and my love for children in general, and I’m at even greater risk.

I must be very careful of what I say…

“So Papyrus, if I recall correctly, each time you’ve visited my home you’ve crawled straight for my children’s room to play. We’ve never really gotten to know one another, have we?”

Papyrus stopped flipping through the book. “Nyeh?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself little one?”

The baby bones looked at his book and then back at the king as if he were unsure of what to say. For a moment Asgore thought he wasn’t going to speak at all; perhaps talking to Papyrus like an adult wasn’t the best idea. Gaster DID say he tended to act like a regular baby in front of others…

Did I make a mistake?

“*Ahem* My name be Papyrus and I’s two years old,” said the baby bones holding up two fingers. “I enjoy cuhwering, long crawls on da’ beach, and my big Buther’s company…his peasants I mean, he not own a company.”

“Heh heh ha ha!”

“As for my own endevors, I help the Underground by selling cheap affordable drugs to junkies so they overdose and die…or I WOULD do dat, if SOMEBODY would stop cutting off my supply.”

“…”

“Dat someone be YOU Fluffy Buns…”

“…I would appreciate it if you’d get out of the drug trade Papyrus,” said Asgore averting his eyes.

“Well I would appeciate it if you’d stop fuking wit my job security, NYEH!” Papyrus threw the book he was holding onto the floor. It didn’t have any pictures, so it was basically useless.

Not something meant for babies anyway.

“Dis book suck! Where da’ pictures at Fluffy Buns? You get dis from the weird part of the library?”

“Seriously Papyrus, about your job-”

“One time I went to the library to get some books for Snas, and I found a book just like this…cept’ it wasn’t like this, it was all soft like a blankey!” exclaimed the tiny skeleton hugging his Highnesses beard.

“Papyrus.”

“Dis book was weird as hell Mr. Buns! I open it up and it had zippers and buttons in it! BUTTONS! Who puts buttons in a book? They didn’t do nothing either! I undid the zipper AND the buttons and there no pockets or nothin’. What dat spose’ to teach the baby? How that edgy-cation-al? I thought it would at LEAST have pockets with stuff in em’ but it didn’t have CWAP!” yelled the baby kicking his tiny legs.

“…”

“I talked to Dirt-Butt about dis and he said the book was a met-a-phor about life. He said is supposed to teach you that life is full of disappointment and people who look for free hand-outs deserve to BE disappointed-”

“What? No!” cried Asgore horrified. “The book you’re describing is most likely a sensory book. It’s a book that acts as a toy for-who is this ‘Dirt-Butt?’ Why would he say something like that to you?!”

What kind of-

“…I thought it was deep.” Papyrus picked the abandoned book back up. “Dis a meta-book too? What it mean?”

“It…it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a book about snails.”

“I think it mean…exercising yo’ ima-gin-ation be more important than relying on someone else’s. Dat’s why it don’t gots pictures. Is saying ‘exercise your ima-gin-ation and make yo’ own pictures. Make your own books wit pictures so OTHER peoples can enjoy them. Give back to da’ community.’ What you think Fluffy Buns?”

“I think it’s a book about snails.”

CA-CLACK!

Papyrus dropped the book again.

“…”

“I liked dat book, is easy to read.”

“You didn’t read it.”

“There was dis one meta-book I find-ed that I still can’t read dough. Is hard like dis one, made of wood, but it had weird stuffs inside dat was scratchy and rubbery and foamy and-”

“That’s another sensory book. Babies are supposed to touch the things inside the book to learn what they feel like.”

“Even the dead kitty?!”

“Dead kitty?”

What?

“There be a page inside that say ‘kitty’s are soft, feel how soft the kitty is?’ and there be fur sticking out page! I touched it and it was real fur Fluffy Buns! Someone squished a cat in a book and put it on the shelf!”

“No.”

“They squished it flat like Undyne…”

“No, also don’t talk about Undyne’s chest like that…it’s not nice.”

“Why not? She do! I ask her one time, ‘hey Fish-Lady, where your boobs be? Yo’ muder gots boobs, so where yours?’ and she go, ‘I don’t know, I think they ran away while I’s sweeping. My mama keeps hers in a hammock cage thing so they don’t get away, but she never bought me one cause’ she cheap.”

Asgore rubbed at his temples as if trying to will away a headache. He didn’t know if it was Papyrus’s seemingly boundless energy, continuous change in subject matter, or lack of listening skills, but the boss monster was feeling more and more drained as the conversation continued.

He expected a Verbal Font to be a chatterbox of sorts, but he didn’t expect it to physically affect him. It felt as if his mind were currently running a marathon whilst leaving his body behind.

Perhaps I’m just getting old, it’s not as if Asriel didn’t ask a million questions when HE was younger after all…though he wasn’t anywhere NEAR as bad as this. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised however, toddlers are one thing, but babies are quite another; they know even LESS about the world around them. Everything is new and exciting for a baby, so of course a Verbal Font like Papyrus is going to want to talk nonstop about even the smallest of occurrences.

Peeking through his fingers, the king watched Papyrus chatter on, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

Stars above, I can only imagine how tired Mr. Wingdings must be on a regular basis. Perhaps I’ve been pushing him too hard with all these demands…as important as they are, his children should come first.

“…So I say, ‘you needs boobs Fish-Lady for your footure babies! Erybody knows muder milk be the most nutritious!’ and then she did dat thing where her eyes get real big and her voice get loud and she scream, ‘OH MY GOD! WHAT IF SOMEONE STOLE MY BOOBIES WHILE I WAS SWEEPING SO THEY COULD HAVE FREE MILK?! WE MUST CAPTURE THESE VILLAINS AND BRING THEM TO JUSTICE!”

Asgore brought his hands down. “Was this last week?”

“Nyeh? I don’t know, why?”

“Because I got a lot of complaints about Undyne last week. That’s why.”

“Then yep, probably, cause’ she and I went around asking people bout’ her boobs and she beat up lossa people. The ones who laughed. She said only bad guys laugh at the unfor-tune-ate.”

“That’s,” the king groaned pitifully. “That’s not a good reason to assault people…”

“Is good enough for her.”

“I CAN SEE THAT,” said Asgore loudly before quickly catching himself and correcting his volume. “How about I make us some tea?” Getting up, he sat the baby bones on the chair behind him and headed towards the kitchen, a tactic he often used whenever he was in an uncomfortable situation, however he didn’t miss the glare the little Horror shot him on his way there.

“Babies don’t dwink tea! Babies dwink MILK! Dat’s why Undyne’s boobies be so important! Why you no listen?”

“I’m listening…”

“No you’re not, you weave right in da’ middle of mah story!”

“You’ve told many stories already, why not take a break?”

“A bake? I don’t need no bake! I gots to pactice my font daily or I’ll be weak when I gets big!”

His Highness glanced over his shoulder, placing a full kettle of water on the stove. “I see…so these stories of yours are a way for you to practice your lying without suffering any severe long-term consequences. I suppose it’s safe to assume then that most of what you’ve said about Undyne’s…rampage, is entirely false?”

“I doesn’t remember ERYTHING she say, or the EXACT words she used, but I’s still telling the tooth. I’s a good bae, ya’ know? I help Undyne when she was feeling sad about not finding her boobies even dough I didn’t have to. I told her mah Daddy could make her some new boobs wit his science and then she was happy, all cause’ of me.”

“Your father eh? So if I call your father, he’ll tell me the same thing?”

“Yep. I aspect so. He the one who solved da’ mystery of the missing boobies too! My Daddy a hero even dough he suck.”

“Right.” The king stood in near the stove watching the kettle, he was torn between going back to the living room and hiding in the kitchen. He WANTED to keep listening to Papyrus, but he was tired and the infant’s loud high-pitched voice was becoming unbearable. He wasn’t sure how much helium Gaster was pumping into that baby’s room, but it sounded lethal, which was too bad because one of the few things Asgore took pride in was the fact that he was a much better listener than his wife. He loved her, but he was all too aware of her awful tendency to jump to conclusions before hearing an entire story and how much pain it could bring others, so he made it a point to do better. To BE better. It was almost like a secret and silent competition of sorts where he would struggle to become the prince’s favorite parent…though it was embarrassing to admit and deep down, he knew it wasn’t right.

There was even a shameful time when he went overboard and blamed her a bit for their children’s deaths, though he NEVER said anything about it verbally. As king, he had to work most of the time to maintain the Underground, especially considering the shape it was currently in, which meant TORIEL was in charge of watching the children throughout the day. He didn’t know exactly WHEN Asriel left for the human village, but there was a time when he suspected it was while his wife was supposed to be keeping an eye on them. The idea should have made angry or sad, but instead he only felt an embarrassing sense of triumph that he hated himself for.

That is, until Gaster set him straight one night at Grillby’s.

“Don’t be a fool. Your child left in the middle of the night; it was no one’s fault, much less your own, unless you make a habit out of watching your offspring sleep.”

“How can you be so sure? We don’t have cameras around our house OR the barrier.”

“Common sense. Her Highness homeschools them in the morning so it’d be impossible to leave at that time and had the prince left in the afternoon, it would have taken him hours to traverse his way down the mountain due to the unfamiliar terrain and to even FIND the village. He’d only be able to reach it by nightfall when most of the humans sleep.”

“I…I see.”

“You’ve spent most of your life in the countryside, you must know what it’s like. The small villages that dot such places usually comprise of farmers…an early to bed, early to rise type of people. There’s little to no chance that there’d be enough of them awake to swarm your son, unless he left in the middle of the night and arrived at the village in the morning. Blaming yourself is irrational behavior, as is drinking away your day at the bar.”

“Y-You’re right…thank you.”

“…Then I tell Undyne to use her cute voice cause’ my stink Daddy don’t look up from his papers, but she still scu it up. She go ‘peas mister science man, can you make me some new boobies? I needs em’ for my wife and kids.” Papyrus shook his head. “Stupid Fish-Lady, I told her she stupid too. Wives don’t need milk, BABIES need milk, but she call me a clown fish and told me to shut my cwap mouth. ‘You doesn’t know ANYTHING stupid baby! I saw my mama use milk for her coffee and big people LOVE coffee, so he gonna feel bad for mah wife and kids and give me boobs for a bargain!”

“…I’m curious as to what your father’s response was.”

“Daddy told her dat she took after her muder and to ask HER where her boobies were.”

Asgore nodded, though the baby couldn’t see him.

Ahh, the old ask-your-mother response. I remember using that many a time.

If he recalled however, it never ended well. Passing uncomfortable situations like that onto his wife proved to be...problematic, as the queen was stubborn in her ways.

“I do hope you didn’t bother that poor woman Papyrus.”

“Nyeh? Poor?” Papyrus looked confused. “She not poor! Undyne’s muder wich! I knows cause’ she gots vases with no flowers in them. I asked her why that be and she said it was none of my beeswax and to not come in her house when the door be locked…I think she sold Undyne’s boobies Mr. Buns, but I can’t proves nothing…I think dat’s what Daddy was trying to tell us.”

“I assure you, she did nothing of the sort-”

“Can I borrow yo’ boobs Fluffy? You doesn’t need them no more right? You give them to Undyne?”

“I don’t…I don’t have those things,” said Asgore, wincing as he heard the pitter patter of tiny boots headed towards the kitchen.

“You look like you do…” said the baby peeking around the corner.

“WELL I DON’T.”

“But you look like you do…hey, what chu doing?” asked Papyrus tilting his head.

Picking up the infant, Asgore began carrying the Horror towards the room he was currently renovating. “Why don’t we go play a game while the water’s boiling, hm? I’m sure you’d rather spend time playing than talking to an old man like me. I’ll even play with you! How’s that sound?”

“Annoying…”

“Ho ho ho!”

As his Highness began to set up the game counsel (something that had to be done every time his children played a game), Papyrus glanced around the room, the previous conversation forgotten. Nothing had really changed since he’d last been in here…in a sense anyway. Chara and Asriel had always been very competitive and it continuously resulted in the destruction of everything in the area except the game counsels they were using. The place itself was a mess of broken toys like the Nursery, but there were scorch marks every which way and bits of splintered wood from destroyed furniture. To his right he could see something that may have once been a table of sorts, so he imagined the princes might have been eating and gaming in the same place; a practice he THOUGHT their mother had banned long ago due to the stains on the wall from food that had no doubt been thrown in a rage after one of the children’s gaming sessions.

Despite spending so much time together, the two had personality traits that contrasted greatly with one another. Asriel was a coward and Chara wasn’t.

That being said, the little goat monster had a tendency to use underhanded tactics to win games when he saw he was losing, such as complaining to their mother about Chara killing Yoshi so he could keep his high score in Mario, or pretending to “accidently” pull his controller out of its socket so his loss wouldn’t count. It infuriated Chara, who was much more mature when gaming, and it often led to violent fights and ultimately their games being taken away for a week or so while the king and queen had the game room repaired.

As a baby that valued courage more than most, Asriel’s behavior disgusted Papyrus, but he stayed quiet about it while he was over. After all, the baby was a guest and no one was perfect. He suspected that Asriel’s parents and environment in general played a big part in feeding his friend’s cowardice, that and monster babies weren’t like skelly babies. They didn’t seem to have the natural instinct Papyrus had to try and grow up properly. They weren’t born with a sense of discipline or ambition; In fact, from what he DID see, all monster babies did was sit around and wait for others to do things for them. He knew because they didn’t change when they became toddlers or even children like Asriel. They still spent all day playing for fun and making demands instead of practicing their magic or trying to intentionally learn new things.

“They spoiled.”

“Hm?” Asgore turned from the counsel and looked around. “Yes, I suppose we did spoil our children a bit. There are times when I wonder in fact, if they’d still be alive if I had been stricter with them…made them afraid to leave the house without permission.” He chuckled and sat on the floor next to Papyrus. “Then again, children will be children and Asriel shared his mother’s stubbornness. He’d of left no matter what I threatened him with.”

Papyrus took up a Gamecube controller and glanced doubtfully at the king. “You know how to pay dis game, or is you gonna be an old person da’ whole time?”

“Excuse me? I set up the game-box didn’t I? Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean ALL technology eludes me young man!” Turning on the game, they watched through the cinematics until only the title screen SUPER SMASH BROS MELEE remained with the words “PRESS START” fading in and out at the bottom.

“…”

“…Why isn’t it starting?”

“See dat button in the middle of the controller there?”

“Which button?”

“The only one in da’ middle. The one that say ‘start.”

“This one?”

“Pess it.”

Asgore pressed the start button and they were taken to another screen with multiple choices that immediately made the infant regret keeping quiet about the choice of game.

“So this is that Super Smashing Fighters game you all love so much! Look at all these options…since I’m a ‘noob’ heh heh heh, I think I need some training…what does ‘1-P’ mean?”

“Go to ‘VS. Mode.”

“Alright…oh. Oh I see,” said Asgore as he was taken to the character screen. “Going straight to the game are we? You’re like Asriel it seems. You don’t want to give me a chance to learn how to play, you just want to win.”

“No Fluffy.”

“You wish to take advantage of my old age and lack of understanding.”

“No. We’s gonna fight as a team. Pick yo’ peoples.”

“OH! OH I KNOW THIS MONSTER! IT’S PIKACHU!”

“Pick yo’ peoples.”

“How do I pick Pikachu?”

Taking the controller from Asgore, Papyrus hovered over the yellow mouse and pressed the ‘A’ button. “You see dis button Mr. Buns? See how it gween like a stop light? Think of dis button as the ‘yes button’ If you want something you use the ‘yes button’ to get it. The red button here be the ‘no button’ if you don’t want something, you pess the ‘no button’ kay’? Cause’ red be a bad color dat means STOP like a stop sign.”

“What?”

“Use dis to pick stuff and dis to go back.”

“Oh alright.”

So as to avoid more annoyances, Papyrus went ahead and made the proper arrangements for their team battle, choosing Kirby as his character.

“Dis game needs more babies…”

“Papyrus. Papyrus look.” Asgore pressed a button on his controller. “He’s got a little hat, ho ho ho!”

“…”

“Aren’t you going to dress up your pink guy?”

“He don’t get clothes till he eat you.”

“Oh my goodness, there’s a princess in the game! Papyrus choose the princess, I bet she has nice clothes…oh no wait, be Pichu! That’s Pikachu’s baby right? We can be a family of fighters!”

“Pichu sucks.”

“But we can be father and son and-”

Papyrus quickly changed his character to Pichu and put Princess Peach and Kirby in the other two slots as their opponents. “Okay, there. I’s Pichu. We pay now?”

“Does he have any-”

The baby bones changed his costume.

“How adorable! This game is so very very cute! I don’t see why Tori had such a problem with it…maybe she didn’t know about the outfits? She had a habit of making mountains out of mole hills that woman…how do we proceed?”

Pressing ‘Start’ they made it to the stage selection screen where, thankfully, the king immediately chose the one with the giant pokeball on it, having apparently recognized the object from an old video series his children had found miraculously intact at the Dump.

As the game began, Papyrus’s annoyance faded a bit as he watched Asgore test out the controls without asking about them. He may not have known much about technology, but obviously his battle instincts transferred into the game, as he seemed to instinctively know not to distract Papyrus during the fight…that is…until he noticed their opponents where no match for the Horror.

“How do I catch you?”

“Nyeh?”

“How do I catch Pichu? Every time I throw these pokeball things at you they turn out to have someone in them already. Where are the empty ones, or how do I empty them out before catching you?”

“DON’T CATCH DA’ BABY!”

“You’ll be safe in the pokeball. It’s part of a grand strategy-”

“Dis not Pokemon! Dis MELEE! You just supposed to kill da’ pencess and the pink bae-”

“What? Killing?! This is a FIGHTING game Papyrus, we’re supposed to be JUST fighting, not killing!” His highness grumbled in frustration as the princess sent him flying into the abyss.

BOOSH!

“Is just a game Mr. Buns.”

“There are more important things in life than winning, child. Don’t-DON’T YOU PICK UP THAT HAMMER PAPYRUS! Did you not get in trouble for using such a thing in real life?!”

BOOSH!

Once again, Pikachu met his end to a frying pan.

The baby bones patted the king’s arm in an attempt to comfort the agitated monster. “Don’t be mad Fluffy, you do bedder next time!”

“What? I’m not angry! I’m not angry and that’s not the point!”

“You are. You’s mad cause’ the pencess be kicking you in your asshole.”

“She’s not-she’s not beating me, I’m letting her win because she’s a woman. It’s not good to hit women Papyrus, that’s not how a gentleman behaves!”

“Liar. She kick yo’ ass and now you’s mad.”

“I’m NOT angry. There’s nothing to be ANGRY about! This isn’t even a real GAME child! I told you I didn’t know how to play, so I need training. This game doesn’t count, it’s merely a learning experience!”

“A learning ah-sperience?”

“Quite.”

“Hm…then perhaps during dis game you can learn to be less of a bitch.”

“…”

“…What?”

“I’m calling your father.”

“Nyeh? Why? What I do?”

“You’re using naughty words and doing naughty things.”

“Ohhh, you wanna cry to my Daddy cause’ you feel embarrassed and you wants time to get good.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You wanna send baby home so you can pactice.”

“Absolutely not!”

REEEEEEEEEE!

“Oh look, yo’ tea be done! Now you can go to da’ kitchen and peetend mah Daddy just called to check up on things!”

“PERHAPS HE WILL CALL!”

CA-THUM!

As Asgore stormed away, slamming the door behind him, Papyrus crawled over to the prince’s toy chest to scavenge for new crayons to take home with him.

It was unfortunate that Asgore and Asriel were so very much alike when it came to anything competitive, but that didn’t mean he and Papyrus couldn’t get along in general. He had had a good time talking to the king and even though he was mad, the infant wasn’t worried in the slightest. His Highness was upset, but he wouldn’t stay that way forever. Despite the fact that he was definitely going home, he knew he and the king would play again some other day and the baby was looking forward to it.

And as for Asgore himself, he decided allowing Papyrus to ingest a bit of soap wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry for the wait, I had a computer error that erased ALL of my progress. Even if I did make the one month deadline, this still should have been done earlier, so I made it longer as compensation.

Also I finished another chapter of Fonttale 3, so there’s that too. I hope you all have a good holiday with your loved ones and remember to cherish them while they’re still around.

On another important note, I’ve no idea who drew this, but appreciate it’s existence. I tried looking it up through reverse image searching, but after it showed me a ton of results and I clicked on one, Norton freaked out and warned me that it had just blocked something...so if you want to know who drew this, reverse image search is NOT the way to go, otherwise you’ll risk your shit. Just thought I’d warn people who don’t have computer protection.

#Fonttale #Fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Papyrus #Baby Papyrus #Gaster #Sans #kid sans #Asgore #a bit of deltarune

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theashemarie · 5 years

Text

Demo Brew Ch. 2 | Pearlina

☆ Reblogs appreciated! ☆

↪Chapter 1: [The Bet]

↪Chapter 3: [The Song]

Read one chapter ahead on AO3!

Ch. 2: The Squid Sisters

When Callie and Marie return, they tow in a girl of about turf war age (fifteen) with long hair and eyes swimming with mirth. “This is Three,” Marie says. “She’s gonna be helping out around here for a while.”

“That’s me! Three!” says Three. Her voice is just as lively and cheerful as her eyes.

That can’t be her real name, but Pearl doesn’t let it phase her. She’s known quite a few people with good reasons behind their unusual names, and she knows better than to ask.

“I’m Pearl,” she says.

“Oh, I know.” Three bounds forward to shake her hand. “I love your music. I wish I could scream like that.”

They make fast friends.

Mostly, Pearl and Three bond over death-defying accidents and comparing their scars. Three’s are fresher, but Pearl’s got better stories.

“I got this one from trying to do a wheelie down the stairs!” Pearl indicates her leg, where a large, lighter slash of skin decorates it.

“Whoa!” Three leans over and pokes it. Then, she indicates a spot on her face, just on the side of her nose. “One time, I wanted to see if shooting a charger straight at the ground would let me like... pogo with it? Like a pogo stick? But then I shot, and it burst out of my hand and it just hit in the nose... But it worked!”

Pearl can’t help it—she laughs so hard that she almost falls over. “At least you didn’t lose your teeth. Once, I was trying to do cool ninja tricks with a microphone and I swung it into my face. My dad says the dental work almost made us go broke!”

“One time, I had a roller and I gonna attack an oct—”

“Okay!” Callie bursts in, carrying a tray of hastily put together sandwiches. She doesn’t sound nearly as tired as she’s been acting lately, so that’s a good sign. She and Marie have been keeping odd hours recently, Pearl thinks, because they always come into work exhausted. “Are you guys comparing scars? Do you wanna see mine?” She lifts up her shirt enough for them to see a small slash in her stomach. “Marie stabbed me with a fork when we were kids.”

“Wha—?” Three gasps and looks to Marie. She was cleaning the tables but has since stopped to watch their small spectacle.

“She was in my way,” Marie answers easily, leaning back on the tabletop. “I don’t have any scars. I’m too perfect.”

“Yeah,” Callie shoots back, “but don’t you have permanent blisters on your hands from when you tried to take pizza rolls out of the toaster oven too fast?”

Marie doesn’t answer right away. “...Maybe. Shut up.”

“Pizza goblin!” Three cheers, pointing right at Marie.

Pearl and Callie collapse into fits of giggles. Three and Marie watch them, grinning, but then Three notices something.

“Well Pearl, what about that one?” Three indicates a light scar across Pearl’s arm, faded because of extensive effort—lots of creams and gels.

“Oh.” Pearl rubs over the spot. “That’s from a bandmate. Whapped me with a guitar string. He says it was an accident but sometimes I’m not sure.”

Callie and Marie share a look over her head and she sees Three’s fists tighten. “It’s no biggie though!” Pearl says and gives them a huge sharktooth grin. “I got him back good.”

Marina doesn’t return for about three days after Pearl hands her a CD with her band’s latest single on it. Pearl tries not to take it personally, and she desperately has to keep herself from breaking down every day that passes with no Marina, but she manages it. Callie, Marie, and Three don’t ask when they find her leaning over the sink in the bathroom, giving herself pep talks, and Three joins in one time, just to make sure that Pearl is okay. Three’s a good kid, and Pearl will have to make it up to her one day.

If she makes it through this.

It’s not that she’s weak. It’s just that she’s not used to this. She really, really, really likes Marina, and she wants to impress her and get to know her and spend time with her. She dreams about holding her hand. Her hand—like they’re school children. Pearl hasn’t been this head-over-heels for anyone in a long time.

And now she’s gone.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Three asks one night. They’re closing and the shop is empty. It’s quiet. Pearl is washing the last of the cups while Three mops the floor. All the chairs are flipped on to the tables and the world outside is dark. Pearl can see herself in the reflection of the window.

“Not really,” Pearl says. Then amends, “Okay maybe. Yeah, I do.”

Three props the mop against the wall and puts her elbows on the counter. “I won’t tell a soul. Agent’s honor.”

Pearl has no idea what that could possibly mean, but she doesn’t really want to get sidetracked here. She needs to talk about this. “So, you know Marina? Like this tall?” She extends up onto her toes to hold her hand at the approximate height. “Fond of headphones. Beautiful hair.”

Three smiles in a way that Pearl can’t read. “Yeah, I’ve seen her. She hasn’t been here in a few days.”

“That’s the problem.” Pearl sighs and plonks a mug into the soapy water. “I gave her a CD with some music on it. My band’s music. And she hasn’t come back. I scared her away.”

Three winces, which is a bad sign. “Nooo,” she sing-songs, trying to be convincing and failing, “I’m sure she loves it! Everyone I know loves it! I love it! I love your music, Pearl.”

Pearl considers shoving her head into the sink. “Thanks,” she says instead.

Three watches her for a second. “I think you’re letting it bother you too much. What happened to the Pearl that I met that doesn’t let anything bother her? So what if one person doesn’t like your music? You’re still badass! You’re still Pearl! You’re still the person who screams so loud the speakers break. I thought you were supposed to be arrogance personified.”

Pearl turns toward her and catches sight of her reflection in the glass again. Window Pearl is all slouchy and sad, as if her body can’t hold itself up. She stands up taller, just to see, to remember, what that’s like, and then she smirks at herself, just because she can.

“Yeah!” she says. Window Pearl is confident now, arrogant, the Pearl that looked back at her every morning for the past twenty years. “Yeah! Who cares what Marina thinks?”

“Not us!” Three cheers.

Well, Pearl actually does care, but she’s going to fake it until she makes it.

“Not us!” she echoes, and vows to remain this confident.

At least until Marina breaks her hearts.

When Marina reappears, she orders a hazelnut latte from Callie, and Pearl starts putting it together without a word. Marie and Three are in the back, testing some new cookie recipes and the shop smells amazing, of cranberries and oranges and something like chocolate and raspberry.

“How are you today?” Callie asks, being cordial, while Pearl tries her best to not to look at Marina. She’s trying to be aloof to protect herself. Her music is her most important thing, and if Marina doesn’t like it, she wants to be prepared. If Marina doesn’t like it, she likes to imagine that she’ll just shrug it off. But it probably will destroy her no matter how much she doesn’t want it to.

“I’m great,” Marina says. “I got a lot of work done this weekend! Heard some new music that really inspired me.”

“Oh yeah?” Callie sounds genuinely interested. Pearl wishes she could act like that. “Anybody I know?”

Pearl pumps some hazelnut into the drink. The faster she gets it done, the faster Marina can leave.

“It’s Pearl’s band, actually.”

Pearl almost spills the coffee. “What?”

A glance over her shoulder let’s Pearl see Marina nod once, enthusiastic. “Yeah! I sampled some and did a remix. I hope that’s okay.”

Pearl looks back at the coffee and lets out a soft, impassioned scream. It’s high pitched and straight from her gut, a primal scream that she has no control over. And then, when it’s over, she puts the coffee down, turns to see both Callie and Marina’s shocked faces, says “I spilled coffee on myself. I’ll be right back,” and then marches through the door to the back.

“Uh,” Marina says.

“I’ll finish your drink,” Callie offers, at a loss.

“Great job!” Three cheers as Pearl passes her. Pearl groans, turns the water in the sink on, and dunks her hand under it, just to keep up the act.

The next few days pass in a blur. Marina shows up every day and Pearl tries to be slick. She leans on the counter and says extremely normal things like “Hey girl, what’cha drinking?” or “Hey Rena. Can I call you Rena? What can I get you?” or “What’s up? Where’d you come from anyway?” It’s so against her nature, but she can’t bear to use a pickup line on Marina. She’s not just any girl.

That last one though—the “Where’d you come from anyway?”—is the wrong thing to ask. Marina goes ashen and Pearl immediately realizes that she’s screwed up somehow.

“Uh, I mean—it doesn’t matter! There’s people from all over in this city and a lot of them don’t want to talk about it! Callie and Marie are from Calamari County and they barely talk about it. It’s chill! I’m from right here though! I competed in the Calamari County Youth Folk-Singing Contest and won though! Totally blew up some speakers with the power of my voice! Am I rambling? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. Please don’t—”

“Pearl.” Marina is chuckling. “It’s okay. I’m from around Mt. Nantai. Your question just surprised me. I didn’t know we were at the where are you from stage of our relationship.”

She’s teasing. Pearl can tell. But she also doesn’t care. She just said the word relationship— Pearl has to try very hard not to scream again.

“Well, y’know.” Pearl is trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m just curious. You keep trying every drink like you don’t know what they all taste like or something. They don’t have coffee shops in whatever mountain town you grew up in?”

Marina shakes her head with a small smile on her face. “No, I can honestly say that there isn’t any coffee where I’m from.”

Pearl whistles and leans against the counter. “Wow. You from some kind of purity cult? I heard the humans had those. Didn’t know they still existed. What about your parents—”

“Actually,” Marina cuts in, “I have something for you.” She reaches into the small bag she has hanging from her shoulder and holds a small CD case out in Pearl’s direction. “It’s the track I made with samples from your song. I used a bunch of your screams to make a new track. It was a lot of fun!”

“No way!” Pearl pounces on the disc. “You used just me?”

Marina nods and holds a hand up to her face to hide her small smile. “Your voice is crazy powerful and really flexible.”

“I’m gonna play it right now!” Pearl twists around to go for the radio and its old-fashioned CD player, but Marina lunges toward the counter with her hand outstretched.

“Please no,” she says. She grabs her longest tendril of hair and plays with the end, embarrassed. “It’s just. I made it for you. And I added a demo of a song I wrote...”

Pearl’s eyes widen. “You did?! I— I mean...” She has to struggle to keep a giant smile from appearing on her face. “Thank you, Marina. I— I’d love to hear it.”

Marina picks up her hot chocolate. “It was the least I could do. Since you trusted me with your music.”

Marina’s song is really good. Really, really fucking good.

It’s super melodic and the countermelody would perfectly fit a spoken part, maybe even a rap. The drums are moving and steady, the background music more of a rhythm than a tune, which is perfectly juxtaposed with her voice. Marina has a great ear for music and Pearl catches herself humming it as she makes coffee. Three is at the counter today and Wet Floor is singing from the radio. Pearl can’t get Marina’s demo out of her head though.

On her break, she sits at the back-corner table with her feet up on one of the chairs just like Callie told her not to, and she writes lyrics. Quick, snappy, rapped in a high pitch—possibly her own voice, but she doesn’t let that thought get very far. Then, she writes in close harmonies, just for kicks, just to see if it would work.

She’s so focused that she doesn’t notice when Callie walks up and almost jumps out of her skin when Callie pushes her feet off the chair. She drops into it and sighs.

She and Marie have been so exhausted lately, as if they’ve been running marathons in their free time or something. They come into work tired, float through their shifts half-asleep, and Pearl is pretty sure that Marie has been downing at least six cups of coffee every morning. It’s like they’re living too much, with too much stress, too much stuff, not enough time. But, as far as Pearl knows, they only have the shop and their grandfather. A grandfather who is still in Calamari County, being cared for my Marie’s parents.

Still, Callie and Marie are run ragged, down to their teeth, and Pearl can’t help but wonder if they’re hiding something.

“What’cha up to over here?” Callie asks. She’s not looking at Pearl, just has her head craned back as if she could fall asleep right there.

“Nothing,” Pearl answers impulsively.

Callie moves her head to look at Pearl. “Didn’t seem like nothing, but also it’s none of my business. As long as it’s not illegal.”

Pearl doesn’t know what comes over her, but looking at Callie right then, in her bright pink apron and beanie, she can’t help but trust her. Sure, Callie hasn’t expressed any sort of interest in music or writing or anything related, but Pearl has to show someone because there’s no way she’s ever gonna show Marina. Might as well be Callie.

“I was writing lyrics.” Pearl flips her notebook around, showcases the rough treble staff and her scribbled lyrics.

Callie sits up, interest piqued, and pulls the notebook closer. “Countermelody?”

Pearl is surprised. “Yeah. The melody is flowing and lyrical. I figured it could use some punch.”

“Mm.” Callie begins to hum, picking the notes up off the page without a pitch prompt, and Pearl has to keep herself from being boggled. She watches as Callie’s finger moves up and down the staff, touching each note with care as she hums Pearl’s rough composition.

“Do you know the melody? Can you write it on here?” Callie pushes the notebook back. “I’m assuming you don’t have a recording of it yet.”

She does actually, but it would be a betrayal of Marina’s trust to let Callie listen to it, especially this early. Still, she knows it well enough to stick the notes on the staff. “Yeah, I can transcribe it.”

“Sick. Hey, Marie! Come over here.”

Marie appears quickly, with a mug of coffee warming her hand. “You know if we all go on break, there won’t be anyone to run the counter,” she says as she sits down beside Callie.

“Three’s got it. Check this out.”

Pearl finishes the last note as Callie grabs the notebook out of her hand and spins it around. Marie takes a sip of her drink and nods. “I like it. You wrote this?”

Pearl shakes her head, dumbfounded. “I’m helping a friend.”

Marie takes another small drink. “I think it’ll work. Do you wanna test it or what?” She directs that last question at Callie, who merely grins.

“Yeah, we totally gotta test it! Pearl here needs our help.”

Marie nods and clears her throat. Then, she begins to sing the part Marina already had written, using a neutral dah syllable because Pearl didn’t write in the words under the notes, and, when she gets to Pearl’s additions, Callie jumps in, matching with dahs of her own. They blend flawlessly, catching the close harmonies without a single snag, and Pearl hears the song open up, even without the instrumental to give it depth.

And, some stubborn, annoying part of her brain says, aren’t those voices eerily familiar? Deeply, painfully familiar? So familiar that it smacks her hard, right between the eyes and she doesn’t hear the end of the song at all. She just watches them, so in sync, so practiced, so familiar with plucking notes out of the air and sewing their voices together that they don’t need a single pitch to match—they just match each other.

“How’d we do?” Callie asks when they finish. She’s all grins and Marie just rolls her eyes, perfectly aware of the game.

“...you’re shitting me.” Pearl has to struggle to keep her voice modulated. She doesn’t want to yell here in Fresh Start, not with so many people around. “This whole time you’ve been playing with me?”

Callie shrugs and stands. “Technically, we’ve been playing with everyone. You were just the closest target.”

“But...” Pearl can’t believe it. The Squid Sisters, right here, working all day in this tiny shop just off the main area in the square. “Why?”

“We like coffee,” they chorus together. And then giggle, as if this is a normal response.

As Marie disappears back into the back, she and Three share a small smile, and Pearl realizes that Three knew too. Pearl was the only one who didn’t know. Unbelievable.

“That’s a great song, by the way,” Callie says. She closes Pearl’s notebook and hands it back carefully, as if it’s highly valuable. Pearl accepts it and tries to ignore how Callie’s praise makes her hearts jump. “You should go after it. You and Marina make a great team.”

Pearl feels her stomach drop open. “We do...”

Callie smiles and claps a hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “I think so. But what do I know? I’m just a barista.”

Pearl can’t help it—she lets out a bark of a laugh and Callie winks as she goes back toward the back, where there are scones to be made.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #pearlina #splatoon fic #ashe talks #ashe writes #demo brew #i know the fandom characterizes agent 3 as a badass but my 3 is a goofball #also i KNOW that callie's the one that loves food but... what if marie did too?

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Text

Fic: Nocturne (25/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes’ ‘taur AU)

—————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————

It's not like Noctis is an expert at this whole hero business, except maybe in video games (where he kicks hindquarter like nobody's business), but he's pretty sure accepting the bad guy's invitation to a party is, like, a bad idea? Or something?

"We've thought of that," Dad tells Noctis when he brings it up. "But we don't see how we can avoid a full-fledged siege of the Rock otherwise – and a siege we will more than likely lose, and lose badly, since Niflheim is both closer and has greater forces than we. So, in lieu of any better options, we go to have fritters, roast meat, and fruitcake with the enemy."

"Fruitcake with a fruitcake," Noctis says.

“Be nice, Noctis,” his mother says, drifting through the room. "Regis, do you think Noctis can wear his traveling clothes, or are those not formal enough? I want something sturdy, in the event of disaster, but good enough to pass as appropriately formal..."

"Perhaps the dark blue travel outfit, instead of the black?" Dad suggests. "It's a little less used, but still thoroughly broken in..."

Noctis throws his hands up into the air. "What do we care? The only person we'll be impressing is Creepy McCreepytaur!"

Noctis' parents look at him with injured "you're not getting it" expressions that quickly shift into "well maybe he’ll understand when he's older" ones that are even more annoying.

Cor, who's sitting on the floor near the fire with Prompto, snorts, though, because he's cool. He gets it.

"Don't worry, Noctis," he says, running a brush through Prompto's silky fur. Prompto likes it when Cor does it for him, rather than just doing it himself; Noctis isn't sure if that's a canidaetaur thing, a laziness thing, or a Prompto thing. Either way, he's totally going to go over to demand some brushing as well, even though he'll probably get bored of it after two minutes. "No matter what you wear, we'll be there to back you up. With an army."

"Quite literally, in fact," Uncle Clarus puts in. "We're fully expecting an ambush, and we're bringing all the forces we can spare from Insomnia's defense. We'll all be there, hanging back in the event you need us."

"Even Gladio and Iggy and Prom, right?" Noctis says eagerly.

That gets frowns from the adults. "Noctis," Dad starts, "I don't think that that's –"

"They helped me with all the other Covenants!" Noctis argues. "Maybe they're necessary!"

"We are fulfilling the Prophecy in a non-traditional manner," Iggy volunteers from where he and Gladio are playing checkers. Luna, Iggy's usual opponent, isn't there, since she's off packing in her quarters (picking her clothing, more likely), so Gladio has volunteered himself and is losing amiably. "Our presence may be necessary. You don’t know for sure, and why take the risk of not bringing us?"

"You're children," Aunt Cyrella points out, but she sounds thoughtful. "And it will undoubtedly be quite dangerous. Though you've been in dangerous situations before..."

That's a good sign!

"I'm fairly sure I don't like the idea of sending children – any children – up against the Accursed," Uncle Clarus says, frowning. "Much less ones he already has reason to know of."

Less good.

"You know, while we're at it, I don't like that we have to kill this Accursed Izunia fellow," Scientia says from where she's nose-deep in some book. "We're a nation of law, by Bahamut's scales; we ought to try him by jury, just like anyone else."

"Oh, come now, Scientia, really," Aunt Cyrella objects. "Please remember that we're talking about a person who is, as far as we can tell, quite literally the incarnation of the Starscourge."

"Doesn't matter," Ms. Scientia says firmly. "The Lucian charter doesn't qualify between individuals, no matter their crimes or, er, composition: all sentient beings get a trial by twelve of their peers. And you can't say he's not sentient, not with all the trouble he's caused."

"But really, under the circumstances, Scientia..."

"Oh, I'm not saying we can do it," she concedes. "Just that it would be nice if we could do it legally."

"I don't know where we could even hold him for long enough for a proper trial," Cor says thoughtfully.

"I've given in already, Leonis; there’s no need to rub it in further."

"Hey, no, I'm agreeing with you," he protests. "It would be preferable if we could, but I don't think we can. Besides, the battlefield has its own laws."

"Hmmm. True enough, I suppose."

"Well, I still think the very idea is absolutely ridiculous," Aunt Cyrella huffs. "The fact that you're both still concerned with the rights of –"

"I think the blue will do quite well," Noctis' mom decides before Cor and Scientia's hackles can go up any further. Her voice is calm and gentle and also somehow manages to interrupt everyone's conversations with no effort whatsoever, pulling everyone's attention to her instead of to their tiff. "What do you think, Noctis?"

Noctis groans.

"I don't think he cares," Gladio translates. "Did we ever make a decision on whether we're coming or not? Because if we're not allowed to come, we're just gonna try to stow away. Cor will help."

"He will not," Dad says, giving Cor a hard look.

Cor shrugs noncommittally.

He totally will.

"Cor!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh, yes, but you 'didn't say anything' in a way that speaks volumes. Don't think I don't know -"

"This entire discussion is irrelevant," Mom says with a sigh. "We've seen that the Accursed has his ways to get into the city regardless, and if he launches another attack on Insomnia while we're abroad there won't be anything we can do. So we may as well bring the children – it's the Inferniad holiday, after all, which is meant to be celebrated by bringing families together. Not to mention that we aren't exactly leaving anyone at home to watch them, except perhaps for Cyrella's mother..."

"She's watching Iris," Aunt Cyrella says. "That's all she agreed to do. You try to push three boys on her, she'll lead a palace revolt."

"Successfully, too," Uncle Clarus mutters, his fur going flat. He's always been a bit afraid of his mother-in-law, which has constantly been a source of hilarity to Noctis and Gladio because Grandma Romulea happens to be very sweet and so near-sighted as to be half blind even with her frankly enormous glasses.

"So we're going?" Iggy asks eagerly.

"Not to the party itself," Mom says. "You're not invited."

"But otherwise yes," Scientia says. "Consider it a contract."

Iggy breaks out into a momentary grin, then gets control of himself again. "Thank you for this opportunity," he says politely.

"You may assist by wrestling Noctis into his traveling clothing," Dad says wryly. "He needs to try it on before we go."

"Nooooooo -"

"You have to."

"I can do it myself! Don't sic my friends on me!"

And that, as far as Noctis can tell, is that, and next thing he knows they're on their way to the Rock of Ravatogh for the world's most screwed up Inferniad party ever.

They go in an airship, at least – a small one, with Aranea driving and being more awkward than he might've believed possible after having known her for a few weeks as a Crownsguard. Apparently she has a totally different approach to Noctis' Dad and Luna's Mom than she has to regular people - far, far more respectful and awestricken.

Like, Noctis can't blame her, but it's super annoying.

Luna grabbed Noctis to sit by her, and made sure her other side was right next to the wall, which probably means that she and Ravus still haven't made up. Luna's mom looks all pinched up about it, too.

Ugh, Noctis is glad he doesn't have siblings. They sound like way more trouble than they're worth.

When they get close to the Rock of Ravatogh – bare of snow and unseasonably warm as always, no matter the weather - Noctis looks out the window and abruptly realizes exactly why his parents and all the other adults agreed to this whole ridiculous thing.

There's an army already there.

MTs, all of them, standing in rows and rows, unmoving tin soldiers with glowing red eyes – just deadly.

There's a lot of them.

A lot of them.

Noctis thought the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive force that's following behind them at a far distance was impressive, but it's not anywhere near as impressive as this.

All the MTs are just standing there, out in the open, unmoving, and their army is encircling, as far as Noctis can tell, the only pathway up the mountain. Trying to get past them...

Yeah, okay. That would be impossible.

It'd definitely be impossible to do it before Niflheim called for backup from its massive airship fleet.

Its slightly-smaller-than-previously airship fleet, thanks to Aranea.

Aranea lands their airship without any of the MTs taking a step in their direction, although their heads all creepily rotate to focus on them.

All together, all at once.

Creepy.

"Good luck," Aranea says, and she sounds pretty doubtful about their chances. "I'll wait here until I see you safely up."

"They might fire on you once we disembark," Luna's mom says.

"I have shields for a reason, your Ladyship," Aranea says. "I don't think they'll let me stay more than a few minutes, but those minutes I can, I'll be here."

Luna's mom smiles at her and puts a hand on Aranea's lower back, just lightly. "You're a good one, Commodore," she says, and when she lifts her hand away, it's glowing a little.

Aranea looks dumbfounded for a second, and then extremely honored. "Yes, my Lady," she says, looking even more awestruck than before.

That must be the Oracle's Blessing.

(Big deal. Luna can do it too.)

They get off the ship.

Once the MTs see that all six of them are there – Dad and Mom and Noctis and Luna and Ravus and their mom – they abruptly move, choppy uneven movements like the creepy quasi-robots they are. The ones of them in the front turn to the side in a single uniform movement, opening up a narrow path between them, just large enough for one or two ‘taurs to pass through, just barely, and the back rows march in a turning style to stand side-by-side to continue the walls of that path all the way up the side of the mountain.

Up and up and up the mountain.

It's like watching dominos, except instead of falling they're rearranging themselves into a different pattern with perfect precision.

So, so, so creepy.

"I'm glad I brought my cane," Dad sighs. He has an old wound in one of his forelegs – he has a knee brace that he wears for it, more and more often, and he's been using his cane to get around. It's a nice cane – it goes up to his chest in height so that he can lean against it, like a staff, and it's very pretty – but Noctis worries. He knows that the Ring drains the King's health, but surely it shouldn't be doing it so fast..?

If his Dad's ill health is part of the Prophecy, Noctis is going to be super mad at someone.

Probably Bahamut.

"We'll go slowly," Mom says firmly. "There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late. Sylvia, if you would..?"

Luna's mom takes Dad's arm – her hands glowing again, this time focused more on healing him so as to make the climb easier – and they all start going up the mountain.

Per Mom's instructions, Luna goes next, and then Noctis, and then Ravus, and finally Mom, covering their tails.

It's pretty slow going. Worse, with MTs on both sides watching them go, it's hard to even really enjoy it – they're basically stuck in single file, twisting and twining their way up the mountain path, and they can't even really talk to each other or anything to make it less boring.

Ugh, Noctis really hopes this isn't actually a trap. Or, if it is, that Cor and Uncle Clarus have some really awesome plan to get them all out of it.

The MT path ends up diverging from the actual pathway and going up some sheer rock, forcing them to follow that path instead, and that's even harder on Noctis' dad, making his breath come faster and his limp worse. If Noctis didn't hate this Accursed guy on principle already, he definitely does now.

And then they finally get to a cave, and inside that cave is –

Oooooh shit.

"Is that a Lucian tomb?" Luna's mom murmurs. "It resembles the one in Succarpe."

"It is," Regis confirms. "The Tomb of the Fierce – the last of the Royal Arms that Noctis requires."

"Indeed it is!" an extremely obnoxious voice purrs from the side. There's a leopard 'taur there, half in shadow, half out, his eyes hidden by the shade of his hat but the whiteness of his teeth entirely evident as he smiles. "Please, come inside – I insist! You should feel entirely free to collect your little...trinket."

"Chancellor Izunia," Dad says icily.

"A pleasure," Mom says. "As ever."

She sounds amused and a little fond.

Noctis' Mom has the weirdest sense of humor.

The Chancellor pulls off his hat and holds it to his upper torso, still grinning. "Your Majesties do me great honor in accepting my little invitation. I've set us up a nice picnic further in – please, do follow me."

He waves casually at the MTs, causing them to start marching back down the mountain, and then the Chancellor turns his back on them – he's got to be immortal or something, because literally any of the adults could probably get him right between the shoulder-blades without even trying, and he seems utterly indifferent to the idea – and saunters in.

Literally saunters.

The rest of them all follow slowly, the adults looking suspicious (well, except Mom, who mostly looks interested in the cave walls and not unlike she's on one of her visits to the general populace, calm and collected as always), but nothing happens when they walk in. The Chancellor even walks right by the tomb as if it's unimportant.

Noctis hesitates when they get close, looking up at his parents.

"Go ahead, Noctis," Dad says, his eyes still fixed firmly on the Chancellor.

Noctis tries to absorb the Mace as quickly and quietly as possible. Well, as quickly and quietly as is possible when the weapon turns all glowy, rises up into the air, and stabs him in the upper chest.

At least it's not accompanied by an orchestral score or anything. That would be weird.

Even if Noctis has played enough video games that he can very vividly imagine how it would go.

Still, it's kind of a relief to have it. He has all thirteen of them, now – Luna's mom gave him the Trident earlier (he gave the real one back at once, of course), and he's had a copy of Dad's sword since forever. He kind of expected it to be a bit more of a moment, some sort of gold star "here! you've done it! you've got them all!" but honestly that might just be the gamer in him. This is real life, not a game.

He shakes his head and quickly catches up to the others. The Chancellor is leading them deeper inside, to a big cavern where there is, in fact, a series of blankets and picnic baskets laid out in a circular fashion, surrounding the nine-pronged candlabras traditional to the Inferniad.

"How nice it is for us to all be together, on this of all days," the Chancellor says cheerily. His voice feels slimy. "Now, first things first – who among us will light the candles?"

"Chancellor Izunia –" Luna's mom starts, sounding very stiff.

"Please, please! Call me Ardyn," the Chancellor – Ardyn – says. "We're all friends here, are we not?"

"It's very easy to be friends when you have an army outside the door," Mom says, her cheerful and sincere good mood making even Ardyn's intimidating creepiness seem a little less scary. "Wouldn't you say?"

"I do find that it helps," Ardyn agrees, smirking conspiratorially with her. The smirk is noticeably less fake than all the other expressions he's had on so far, less rehearsed and fake, but that's probably because he likes Noctis' Mom. Everyone that Mom likes likes her back, it's like her superpower or something. "But then, that's why I expect that you brought your own, wouldn't you say?"

Dad and Luna's mom stiffen - Noctis is pretty sure Ardyn wasn't supposed to know about their army - but Noctis' mom is entirely unperturbed. "It would be rude not to meet courtesy with courtesy," she says cheerfully. "And we do so try not to be rude. Etiquette is so easily forgotten these days."

"Well said, well said," Ardyn says, looking vastly amused.

"Is there any chance we can get to the point of these discussions?" Ravus growls. He growls very well for an ungulaetaur.

Ardyn tsks.

"So impatient," he says. "The follies of youth! But youth, of course, represents the future. And on that note, why shouldn't we have our dashing prince and lovely princess light the candles, as the youngest of our little company? I believe that's the tradition."

"Very well," Dad says slowly after a few moments. "Luna, Noctis, go ahead."

Noctis looks at Luna. She doesn't look particularly happy about it, but she's straightening her back in a way that suggests that she's going to do it.

And, well, if Luna's going to do it, then obviously Noctis will as well.

So they head into the center of the circle to the candles, while the adults all settle down in a loose semi-circle around them, and they light the candles together, reciting the traditional Inferniad blessings.

"How lovely it is," Ardyn says when they finish. "Ah, youth and beauty – and they make such a lovely couple indeed."

Noctis, who'd taken Luna's hand in his for the candle lighting, immediately drops it. "Couple?!"

Ardyn chuckles. "I see the prince is not yet old enough to properly appreciate the bounty that has been placed before him."

"It's not that," Noctis says, wrinkling his nose at the thought of Luna being called a 'bounty', whatever that meant. He's pretty sure Ardyn doesn't mean like a bounty hunter. "We wouldn't be a couple anyway. Luna likes girls!"

(Pity, too - Noctis would totally have married her and Prompto both if he could.)

Still, Noctis' announcement gets the smug, self-satisfied look off of Ardyn's face, if only for a moment while he blinks at them.

"And has a girlfriend already," Luna adds, her voice a little waspish. She reaches out to take Noctis' hand again in order to guide him over to the blankets to sit down. "Assuming my input is at all relevant here, of course."

"Hardly the fairytale match you thought it would be, Ardyn?" Mom says wryly. "But then – we haven't really done any of this the way you thought it would be, have we?"

"Indeed," Ardyn says, but the smug look is back on his face. "I must say, it's positively heartwarming, really, to see all of you working together on the duties of the Chosen King – the Prophecy of Bahamut is so cruel, wouldn't you say, your Majesty? After all, if it all goes the way the Astrals intend, you'll be giving up both husband and son to their destines as Kings of Lucis."

"We have no intention of giving up anything," Luna's mom says. "There is always light, even in the midst of darkness, and where there is light, there is hope."

"Such charming philosophy," Ardyn says, then settles back, looking them over. "Charming, yes – quite charming. Six of you here, six Astrals above and below, and yet between the two groups, it is we mere mortals who are chosen to pay the price for the Astrals's folly."

"That is still better than encouraging it," Dad says. He inclines his head to the cave entrance. "Or do you deny that you invited the Starscourge to Niflheim, so that it might grow stronger?"

"You misunderstand me entirely," Ardyn says, hand over his upper heart, clearly insincere. "I wish for nothing more than to see your lines united so as to see the Prophecy properly fulfilled – Chosen King and Oracle, come together at last to defeat the darkness!"

"I suppose that would be important to you, wouldn't it?" Mom says musingly. "After all, you yourself sprang from such a union."

Ardyn's face goes utterly flat, all humor disappearing. He clearly wasn't expecting that.

Mom pours herself a cup of tea from a thermos she pulled the picnic basket, all casual and awesome.

"The line of the Oracle and the line of Lucis do not often unite," she says, still causal as if she's commenting on the weather. "And almost never through arranged marriages, the way you implied would be appropriate for Noctis and Lunafreya – almost never, that is, except for once, centuries ago, a handful of generations after the world was turned and the fight against the Starscourge began in earnest. A near cousin of the Oracle was a lion 'taur, through some well-placed marriages, and so able to meet the already established Lucian standard of only marrying lions. And so they married, and had two sons."

She studies a silent Ardyn.

"Isn't that right?" she asks.

"It is," he says. His voice has lost that nauseatingly intimate tone he'd been using up until now; it's very flat. "Tell me, what exactly is it that you think you've found?"

"Izunia," she says instead. "What a strange surname for you to take – that of the younger brother that took the throne of Lucis instead of you."

"The throne of –" Dad says sharply, even as Luna's mom stiffens.

Noctis looks around. He's not sure he understands.

If Ardyn is centuries old, and he was once in line for the throne of Lucis – a line that has been unbroken from the very beginning, when Bahamut blessed them with the Ring and the Crystal – then that means...

"You're a Lucis Caelum," Luna's mother says blankly.

"And a Nox Fleuret," Ardyn says, his eyes glittering. "If one believes my ancestry to be true."

"It is true," Mom says quietly. "Genetic drift was always a possibility, even if no one knew about it back then. Two lions could have a leopard for a son – even an eldest son."

"And yet the throne went to the second son," Ardyn says. "A second son, with a different mother, as leonine as the first, but he was born a lion. And thereafter the line of the Lucii and the Nox Fleurets diverged thereafter forevermore."

"But –" Noctis says, still unsure. "But that means you're..."

"Oh yes, my young Chosen King," Ardyn says, and smiles. It's not a nice smile. "That makes you and I family. But then, isn't the Inferniad traditionally celebrated by families coming together?"

"What happened?" Luna asks, her eyes wide. "If you were Lucis Caelum and Nox Fleuret both...? How did you – why did you..?"

Ardyn laughs. "Let me tell you a story," he says. "It is about a young King-to-be – a young healer, by virtue of his mother's side – who traveled throughout the land to fight the Starscourge, using his abilities to pull the plague from the bodies of his subjects into his own so as to free them from their burden. And yet, when he returned home, his family and his subjects all declared that he was too corrupted to take the throne that was rightfully his – they declared, further, that he had no right to the throne, his true heritage made questionable by simple virtue of the spots on his back – the spots of a leopard, rather than the clean lines of the lion - and because of this, they had him executed. But the Starscourge he had absorbed – the countless daemons he took into himself, rather than let them afflict his land and his people – oh, it would not permit him to die so easily. He did not die. Instead they chased him out, and wiped his name from history."

He turns his eyes to Mom, arching his eyebrows. "Or at least, so I'd thought. It appears a whisper of that story survived, deep within the archives of Lucis."

"The Starscourge corrupts," Luna's mom says with a frown. "To take the daemons into yourself, rather than to purge them – your judgment would have been tainted, your reason unbalanced. That would be why you were denied the throne, not your heritage or your spots."

"They would never have turned on me if not for that," Ardyn hisses, suddenly fierce. "The line of the Lucii, so obsessed with remaining pure – it could not tolerate something different. Anything different!"

"You're mad," Mom observes, her voice neutral – all amusement gone. If anything, she sounds regretful. "Perhaps you were only angry, once, but now you have become consumed – by the Starscourge, and by your hatred."

"Perhaps," he says. "Perhaps. But really, who can blame me?"

He rises to his paws, and so do the rest of them. Noctis doesn't like the way Ardyn's face has gone twisted with anger and the remnants of condescending humor. It makes him seem much more dangerous than the condescending asshole he was just moments before.

He steps back as Ardyn steps forward.

"But now, this time, this time it will be different," Ardyn says, his voice low and his eyes fixed on Noctis. "Now I will face the Chosen King himself – younger than I'd thought, perhaps, but no matter. I will face the Chosen of the Astrals, the Chosen of Prophecy, in the full bloom of his power and might, he who received all the inheritance that should have been mine, and I will show the Astrals who condemned me to my fate the ruinous folly of their ways, of their cruelty –"

There's a muted sound of an explosion, and the room shakes, causing them all to stagger.

"What's happening?" Dad shouts.

Noctis looks at Ardyn, assuming it's his fault, but no – he looks as surprised as any of them.

Another explosion – not in the room, Noctis realizes, but on the mountaintop above them. And then another, and another

"It's a Niflheim bombing run!" Luna's mom exclaims. She’s more familiar with them than most, being from Tenebrae.

"Well, those certainly aren't our people doing it," Mom says, grabbing onto Dad to help him keep his balance as the cavern quakes and ominous cracks begin to run up the walls. "They know we're here - and anyway, we wouldn't use up the bombs like that."

"They've turned on me," Ardyn says poisonously, realizing. "Niflheim – they've turned on me - they're trying to take out two birds with one stone –"

He turns his face back to where Noctis is standing, towards the back of the cavern with Luna.

"It's too soon," Ardyn says, and his voice has gone horribly raspy. "You have not fulfilled your quest yet. You cannot die, Chosen King, not yet, not until your mission is done – I will have my revenge done properly –"

His face is different all of a sudden, his eyes yellow lights in a pit of blackness, with filth the color of tar spilling down his cheeks and out of his mouth, his skin gone grey like a corpse – the corruption inside revealed –

A giant rock falls from the ceiling right next to Luna, making her scream, making Noctis look up and realize just how much the ceiling of the cavern is fragmenting.

"Luna!" Ravus shouts. He charges forward, knocking both Luna and Noctis back just as the ceiling begins to collapse, and the three of them tumble down together, falling backwards – backwards through where the wall of the cavern used to be – backwards and down, going down through some newly-revealed fissure in the wall, tumbling onto some slippery slide where their paws and hooves can get no grip.

Sliding down and down and away, into the center of the volcano.

"Noctis!" someone shouts after them, frantic, and through the echoes Noctis can't tell if it was one of his parents – or if it was Ardyn, seeing his revenge slip away from him.

#final fantasy xv #noctis lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #lunafreya nox fleuret #ravus nox fleuret #regis lucis caelum #aulea lucis caelum #sylva nox fleuret #aranea highwind #cor leonis #clarus amicitia #cyrella amicitia #apollonia scientia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #nocturne #my fic

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katieamazeballs · 6 years

Text

MVP Recap

Ok, guys.....sorry this is late but I 100% waited until today to do this because #1 It’s faster to type it on the computer than on the phone and #2 I’m now getting paid to do this. (Who’s the real winner here). Also....I can post this with a fancy page break so it doesn’t hog everyone’s feed. But before the break....have a pic......

(As per my now usual.....I will post about my experience more than the dances, because you can find those online or will be seeing them yourselves.)

To start off the day, I finally got to meet My Girl and it was AMAZING! We met at her hotel then went to dinner. As we predicted, the girls were instant besties and so were we. (I love it when a plan comes together). When we got to dinner the girls sat with My Girl and I sat with her hysterical mom, Nonna. We had good food and good conversation and it was really nice to have a meal with “my people” and discuss DWTS the entire time. The best part, however, was Nonna telling me no less than 7 times “I don’t like-ah that Maks. He’s a jerk”. (read that in a thick Italian accent).

(Abbie killed it with this selfie)

After dinner, we found our way to the theater. I was no help, of course, because I don’t do downtown even though I’ve lived here for 34 of my 38 years. As we were looking for parking we saw the buses straight ahead, lining both sides of the street. We saw Ivan outside smoking (wtf dude) and JT. Once we parked, moved the car to a different spot, and took selfies, we made our way to the theater. As we were walking up we saw a guy with big girly hair standing by Val’s bus talking on the phone. We were all like “OMG....is that Val?!?!”. The girls and I started booking it and got closer, that wasn’t Val but OMG HOLY CRAP he was right there in front of us!! We attempted to approach him and the worlds grumpiest security guard stopped us in our tracks.

(Seriously.....look at her looking at me like I’m gonna rush him or something! Trust me when I say she plays a theme throughout the night and imagine that face any time I mention “Bitchy Security Guard” or “BSG”.)

Well.....Val didn’t take too kindly to his fans being treated that way and told us to come take pics but that we had to do it quick because he needed to get inside to get ready. I have to say....much like Brandon, pictures do not do this man justice. He is really really really good looking in person. I mean REALLY. Gahdamn, Valentin.

(Notice the guy in the red flannel who is NOT Maks and will not be Maks at any point in the evening no matter how many times we thought he was)

Y’all be proud of Abbie.....she was given strict instructions of things she was banned from saying (I hate Jenna because she STOLE you from me.....and You used to be my favorite but now you’ve been replaced because Jenna STOLE YOU). Girl handled herself like the sane fangirl we all knew she could be and didn’t even cry.

(Notice the death grip she has on him)

She showed him her purse and “may” have scared him a tad. He went “Whoa!”

(She keeps shirtless Val in the center.....because Mama ain’t raising no fool)

After we met Val.....and I failed to remember that I was lugging his book around in my damn purse and forgot to get it signed (I win at life, I swear), we were told exactly where we were allowed to stand and if we so much as took a deep breath, BSG reminded us that we weren’t allowed to move from that spot. Then she would sigh and roll her eyes at us. We tried to see other cast but it was getting chilly and windy (scroll back up and look at the chick’s pony in the pic of BSG) and it was getting closer to show time so they were all inside. Before we left we did get to see Katie the Nanny taking Shai from the venue to the bus. He is freakin adorable! His little curls and his little wave to his adoring fans were on point! I do not have a picture of this because #1 It happened super quick and #2 It’s not my baby and that’s kindof weird and intrusive and BSG was still side eying us and I’m pretty sure she would have taken my phone and deleted all the pics or something in retaliation. She was seriously bitchy and hated her job.

We got inside the venue and hit the merch stand. We all got our shirts (to my surprise, Abs picked the white tour tee instead of the Team Val tee). We found our way upstairs, got drinks, and found our seats. They were pretty decent seats except for we had to sit forward to see the very front of the stage if they laid down (a few times) and couldn’t see them picking the people out of the audience. The show was, of course, amazing. In my opinion, it was better than the DWTS show. Those Chmerkovskiy’s can dance!!!! I’ve heard that Peta is amazing live, but that doesn’t do her justice. She truly is the queen and literally commands the stage when she’s on it. There were moments of great group numbers, moments of hilarity (the dad dance and the stripper section), and gut wrenching serious moments. It really does tell a story through dance and we all loved it. What you probably don’t see in the YouTube videos of the dad dance is Kiki has twins. Abs is still laughing about those twins and when the baby sneezes and Maks yells “It got in my eye!”. During the Chippen Val/Magic Maks section they pull up the lady out of the audience. Let me tell you.....that lady was living her best life. She was so funny! Throughout the show we were annoyed by the group behind us. There were about 8 or 10 of them and they talked the entire show. I’m not talking quiet respectful whispers.....these bitches were straight up chit chatting. I did giggle at one point because the oldest of them was totally Team Nonna. They were doing their first talking section and this chick pipes up with “I’ve always hated Maks.....he’s such an arrogant jackass”. During the super emotional break up section....it was so quiet in there you could hear a pin drop. I had been annoyed the entire show, but at this point I started to get a little concerned that because it was so quiet in there (that section is riveting) that Maks and Peta would actually hear these bitches trying each others wine in an attempt to figure out which one had the tastiest. Seriously y’all.....they were SO LOUD! At this point, I turned around and said “PLEASE stop talking!”. They shushed to heated whispers through the rest of the show but if one of us so much as looked at each other they’d say “NO TALKING!”. At the end of the show they got up and left during the final bows (seriously the rudest group of drunk bitches ever). I booked it out after the show to pee. Abs didn’t have to so she went to stand outside of the bathroom to wait for the rest of our group. I hear “That’s HER!” and look over and these bitches were WAITING for me to come out of the theater! They start yelling “We are at a concert!!! Talking is expected in this type of situation! And you were rude too!!!” (of note....no one ever said they were rude) Abs is looking at me with huge eyes and I was like “Wait...how was I rude! You know what...never mind....Abbie get over here!”. I drug her into the bathroom still completely appalled at their behavior. Be proud that I was an adult and didn’t engage. Once all of our group was done, and these bitches are still standing there waiting, we just kind of grabbed the girls put our heads down and booked it out of there.

We got outside and went to stand by the buses again. BSG was still manning her post and was quite possibly in an even worse mood than before. She seriously hates fans. She should probably look into different employment. Thankfully we had a different security guard posted to our standing area. He was funny and nice and roughly the size of a mountain range. He didn’t seem to be that huge of a guy but he had a chest and shoulders that somehow blocked the entire sidewalk. He also must know us (is our picture up in these venues or something) because dude kept a super close eye on Abs. She must have looked shifty to him. He’s a smart man and I wish I would have taken a pic with him. We stood there and stood there and stood there some more. We had met Val, but wanted to talk to him again (because my damn book) and Makayla really wanted to meet Peta. My goal was to meet Val (for Abs of course....ha) and meet either Maks or Peta to personally give them Shai’s hat. Peta came out loaded down with bags and went to the bus. She came back out and headed our way to go into a different door (probably to get food, they all went in there) and said she’d come back. While we were waiting, we saw quite a few of the dancers coming out. Ivan was standing there talking to a crew member and since no one else would pipe up I yelled his name. He waved and I asked for a picture. He was super nice and came over (Mt. Everest was amused by this).

After meeting him, both girls (and the rest of the small crown of about 15-20) were oohing and aahing over how good he smelled and I realized that my damn sinuses are still acting up and I didn’t smell anything. I thought back to meeting Val (when both girls had the same reaction) and I thought my lack of smelling him was just because we caught him before the show and he wasn’t freshly showered.....apparently my inconspicuous deep breaths when I was standing with him were just fail. I’m super salty about this. Seriously.....I may not ever be ok with the fact that I didn’t smell Val. Shortly after we met Ivan, we saw Emily standing there. She also came over when I got her attention and asked for a picture. Mt. Everest was again amused by me while the others were plotting how they could always manage to be by me at bus meets because I not only recognized everyone by name, but was brave enough to call them over.

I think it was at this point that My Girl’s girl was attempting to convince her mom that they should come to Jax to do all tours with me and Abs.......I don’t think she was successful. Lol. At some point in this process, we saw JT a few more times. I really wanted to get a pic with him. I yelled his name and he threw a half hearted wave, then looked over and said “Oh Hey” and waved harder. He did not come over for a picture. He must actually have recognized me....he was like “Yep...that’s a nope all day long, that bitch is cray”. He has since been relieved of his best friend duties....but it’s ok because Nicole and Alyssa (Serge’s gf) have agreed that they are better choices anyways.

Finally.....the queen emerged and came right over to our group. She is strikingly beautiful in person and so so so tiny. She could probably share clothes with Abs! I gave her a hug and told her I had made a gift for Shai for his morning inspections. She laughed and then peeked in the bag. She awe’d and thought it was adorable! (Totally winning at life here).

She chit chatted with our group for a bit and talked about how they had had to adjust and reblock that day because the stage was a tight squeeze (which explains all the rehearsal stories) and lamented the weird lights outside that went from normal to pink to red (which is why the pics are kindof weird). Abs asked where Maks was and she laughed and said she had no idea and that she hadn’t seen him since bows. As she left she thanked me again for the hat and said she’d post it on insta. I’m really hoping he’ll wear it (toddlers are iffy on hats....and all things really) but I’m pretty sure she’ll post it some how if he won’t wear it.

(Of note....I could smell her.....she smells like a girl.....flowery lotion. It makes me more salty)

We waited a bit longer and still no sign of Maks or Val. It was getting late and even more chilly and windy and we decided to call it quits at 11. The time came and after me having to snap at Abs (she is a determined fangirl), we made our exit with the agreement that one of the remaining group would watch us until we got to the corner and they’d yell Maks’ name real loud so we could come running back. Mt. Everest thought this was hysterical and kept waving to us while we walked off looking back every 5 seconds. We made our way back to the hotel, I was again no help because while I can confidently get myself home from downtown....the hotel was on the other side of the river and I had no idea how to get there. The girls were passed out approx 37 seconds into the drive home. When we got there Nonna popped out of the van and looked down and saw her shirt button was undone. She goes “Oh look at me, all naked!” I died. She is the best and I might steal her. We sadly said our goodbyes and Abs and I headed home. After I got home (about 11:45) I went to check and saw @loveisstatic was the lone hold out and got to meet Maks. I bet she really got the wrath of BSG for waiting so long. (Girl...you gotta vouch for me on BSG....she was serious!) All in all, we had the absolute best time and I can’t wait to do it again.....next year.....after my wallet stops crying.

#mvp tour #confidential tour #the best night

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