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hyruviandoctor · 5 years

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Prisoner: Chapter I – Dinner with The Beast

Hey there! Despite the chapter number, this is the second part of a long fic I’m writing that details the (platonic) relationship between Ganondorf and Zelda during the hundred years Link was asleep in Breath of the Wild. You can read the prologue here! I have one more chapter already ready that just needs final editing, so expect that soon too!

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Rating: Probably T (just to be safe)

Characters: Zelda, Ganondorf

World: Breath of the Wild (During the 100 years Link was asleep)

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Zelda was taken aback as a deep, hearty, almost friendly laugh emanated from the monster she called an enemy. He grabbed his stomach with one hand and threw his head back in an uproarious laugh that seemed to resonate inside Zelda’s very core. It was a laugh reminiscent of the warmth of the desert sands late in the evening, under the shade of a palm tree near the oasis – infectious and relaxed.

Zelda tightened her grip on her rapier.

“It has been quite a while since I’ve had a fight like this,” the Gerudo chuckled. “You are truly gifted with that blade, your highness.”

Zelda’s frown deepened.

“Come now, you can’t really expect to just fight me continuously, can you? Young princess, we’ve been at this for nearly two years now.”

Zelda’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. Two years? It couldn’t possibly have been that long. There was no way she had been dueling the Gerudo King for that much time. Surely someone would have come along and defeated Ganon had that much time truly passed. Surely Link would have awoken by now.

“And just what do you expect me to do then, Ganon?” Zelda snapped. “Sit here and have tea with you?”

“Please Princess, call me Ganondorf. I am not Ganon.”

The Gerudo sighed.

“Well, I suppose on some level I am. But not on any level that I wish to identify with, and not in the way you assume. And yes, I thought we could dine and chat for a bit, if I’m being quite honest. Please, will you sit with me?”

Ganondorf clapped and the void around them changed, the malicious fog shifting and congealing until it formed into a room reminiscent of a Gerudo parlor. Soft, colorful rugs covered the floor and brilliant tapestries hung from the mudbrick walls. A table sat low on the floor with pillows on either side of it for seating, and delicacies were stacked high on trays and dishes atop it. Braziers filled the room with a relaxing glow, and curtains were closed over the door and windows to hide the swirling mass of corruption outside. A number of comfortable-looking furniture decorated the rest of the room: large, cushioned couches and chairs, piles of pillows, and soft rugs. All-in-all it was a very cozy and inviting space, and it reminded Zelda of the many nights she spent with Urbosa after her mother’s passing.

The Gerudo King sounded oddly refined, Zelda thought. He certainly spoke in the manner of someone capable of being a ruler at least, and the room didn’t seem to harbor any apparent dangers. She wasn’t about to let her guard down, but she felt there was no immediate harm in speaking with him. It’s not as if she had much choice; she was stuck here same as he was.

Ganondorf walked over to the table and took a seat, gesturing for Zelda to do the same on the other side. She joined him – placing her blade by her side and making sure it was well within arm’s reach should the need arise – as he poured a cup of wine and handed it to her. She frowned. She wasn’t willing to risk a cheap death by poison. Ganondorf rolled his eyes and chuckled, setting the cup down and pouring another. He drank from it, making sure to show the stain from the wine on his beard and looked expectantly at the Hylian Princess. Slowly, she lifted the cup to her mouth, smelled it, and drank. She was taken aback. This wasn’t at all like the wine they had in the castle; this was smoky and somewhat fruity, not at all bitter. Her host smiled proudly as a look of contentment spread across her face and he grabbed the cooked leg of some kind of bird, taking a bite out of the succulent meat and sighing happily.

This was not at all what Zelda had expected when she had marched defiantly up the path to Hyrule Castle to face the Calamity, nor was it what she was met with when she first entered this realm. For the first, goodness, two years now she had been locked in a constant struggle with her captor and co-prisoner, and now he was acting as though all of that simply hadn’t happened – as if the world outside wasn’t being ravaged by the evil he carried. He was acting like – well – he was acting like the friendly ruler of another land entertaining a royal party.

“Tell me princess,” Ganondorf said, meat juice running down his chin, “Why do you think it is we fight one another?”

Zelda’s brow furrowed once more.

“Because you seek to destroy my kingdom – my people – and the Goddess chose me to fight back against you and the Calamity.”

Ganondorf sighed.

“Part of that is true, I suppose. You were indeed chosen by Hylia – in a way – to fight me – sort of. And I suppose I do seek the destruction of your kingdom to some degree. But there’s much more to it than that, I’m afraid.”

He wiped his mouth and took a sip from his cup, then reached for another leg. Zelda watched impatiently as she waited for him to continue, but he seemed perfectly content to drag things out. After a moment she huffed and reached for a bowl of hydromelon chunks and began to eat the watery fruit – a favorite of Link’s, if she remembered correctly.

A few minutes of silence passed before Ganondorf once again spoke.

“I was born a very long time ago, your highness. Long enough ago that Hyrule is in an entirely different geographic region now. Gods, people move around so much and I simply don’t understand it. Anyway - “

He refilled his cup and took another drink before continuing.

“As I said, I was born a very, very long time ago. Ganondorf Dragmire, King of Thieves, they called me. Sure, I may have led some Gerudo raiding parties back in the day, but my people were hardly thieves. We mostly traded with Hyrule, only stealing when met with cruelty or malice. Unfortunately, that happened fairly often. You have to understand, there was a lot more hatred for Gerudo back in those days. We lived in the harsh desert and had dark skin and harsh features and worshipped a different goddess, so obviously we were evil and not to be trusted. At least, that’s what the people of Hyrule thought.

“I met with the King of Hyrule one fateful day, all those years ago. I wonder what would have happened to our people had things gone differently that day. We met under pretenses of a treaty, an alliance – something to better both our people. What happened was, of course, not at all that. For earlier that month I had gone to the Kokiri Forest and – oh my, you may not know what a Kokiri is, now that I think about it.”

Zelda sat in silence, completely caught off guard by how relaxed his tone was. This was the greatest evil known to all time? This was the man who had caused the near downfall of her ancestors’ kingdoms so many a time? This was the malicious force currently ravaging her own people? How could that possibly be the case? And yet, she knew it was true, otherwise she wouldn’t be here in the first place.

“See, the Kokiri were the original form the Koroks took. They appeared as small Hylian children, clad in green and incredibly mischievous. I had entered their forest and demanded the Great Deku Tree turn over an object of great power, something that would allow me to claim the Triforce as my own. He was……uncooperative, to say the least. I didn’t enjoy placing a curse on him. He didn’t need to die.”

Ganondorf closed his eyes and bowed his head, almost as if he felt regret for what he had done. He took a slow sip of his wine, then watched the liquid spin as he slightly shook the cup.

“I know a seedling of his sprouted a few years later; I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the same on that’s growing above that murky forest across the canyon now.”

A few moments of silence passed while the two ate. Zelda sat pondering what the Gerudo had said, wondering just what he was getting at. When he spoke next it sounded slower, more reflective.

“Your ancestor watched me from the courtyard window as I met her father, the king. She thought she was sly, but I turned my head and locked eyes with her to show her I wasn’t as naïve as she thought. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t get the message.”

Ganondorf turned his head to the ceiling and frowned gently, his bright red locks cascading down his back like a flaming waterfall.

“I was much crueler in those days.”

He closed his eyes.

“The kingdom burned and I sat upon my dark throne, victorious and powerful. And then you showed up with that boy.”

He looked the Hylian Princess in the eye.

“You and that damn boy had to ruin everything. I had worked so hard, done everything I could to win – even secured the Triforce of Power – and yet the two of you still managed to beat me without batting an eye. You locked me away in the Spirit Realm, dooming me to this very void for eternity. That, my dear princess, was the start of our battle.”

He raised his cup to his lips and drank deeply once more. Then he rose and sauntered to one of the couches where he laid down and spoke no more that evening.

#Breath of the Wild #botw #Legend of Zelda #Ganondorf #Princess Zelda #Zelda Fanfiction #writers on tumblr #I don't know what else to tag this as lol #reblogs are very much appreciated #and I read every comment/reply/tag/etc. on these #you guys are wonderful and I hope you enjoy where I take this fic #(also I snuck in a little reference to a fic by @honestground)#(if she saw this I would scream that would be so cool)#anyway I hope you guys like this and are looking forward to more very very soon!#(like in a day or two lol)#Tyler Writes

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ifridiot · 5 years

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Maybe

this fic is, uh, something like six years old? I’ve edited it a little for typos but otherwise it’s not revised. posting for the relaunch of the @ask-the-becile-boys blog.

warnings for swearing, violence, and consideration of self-harm

Some things you can only do alone, in private, with a gun in your hand.

They all know you like guns. Hell, they’d have to be blind not to know, and while your family (for lack of better word, for what is blood to those who have none?) is a lot of things, none of them are blind.

So they know you like them, and they’ve got to know you have at least a couple; Father gave you one for Christ’s sake so it’s not like it’s a big secret. And there’s only so much you can do about the stench of gunpowder and burning oil from your little… exercises.

What you don’t think they know is how many of them you’ve collected over the years. The Thompson they all know about (Father’s sneering little gift, a nod of acknowledgment to your being his little assistant, his loathsome pet), and maybe about the neat little Schmidt M1882, since you bought it yourself instead of stealing it, paid a whole thirty bucks in some back-alley bargaining when it was new and have treasured the thing ever since.

But about the others, no, you don’t think they know. Hare might have an idea; the little rat’s full of so many half-baked theories about what everyone else thinks and does that it wouldn’t surprise you if he thought you maybe had one or two more. And you know now that he’s got himself convinced that you’re out shooting people, out there killing for that jackass you call Father or Master.

You let him think it. Just like you’ll let him go forever thinking that you kicked his narrow aft to hell and back without regret, that you don’t hate yourself for almost killing the stupid shit in your rage. It’s easier to let him think what he wants because he’ll never understand anything else.

To date, you have collected twenty-six guns of various firing speeds and size. All but the first two you’ve stolen from passed out drunks in bars or plucked from the hands of trigger happy brawlers looking to plug lead into something they can’t kill. A couple you’ve hustled in dark corners of seedy sub-markets, trading or bullying for something you want more than what you’ve already got.

Some of them are tiny things; they feel like toys in your hands for all that they could end a life with a careless gesture. Others are complicated, none quite as powerful as the Trench Sweeper but still intimidating in your grip. You’re particularly pleased with the Winchester M97, the severe click-snap of the pump-action striking a base chord in your processor that’s very much like pleasure.

It’s never been exactly made subtle that you look threatening. Unsmiling, stiffly postured, you look colder than your brothers, quieter and more insidiously menacing. From all three of you violence is expected; you’re thieves and bullies and thugs, and of the trio, it is from you people expect the most evil, for you are quieter, more restrained, clearly calculating while Hare is all direct action and Jacky is a mad whirligig of untamable, unpredictable energy.

In reality, you don’t care enough about most things, most people, to be calculating anything. Hare’s the ambitious thief, plotting ways to put money in his pocket. For you, you’d rather just watch, just remain in the backdrop. Failing that, you have no problem reinforcing the idea that you’re the measured one, the scary one; you keep your silence, photoreceptors boring into the eyes of anyone stupid enough to start staring at you.

But contrary to the image you project of the clean-cut criminal, you’re not looking for a fight. Hare will willingly scrap with anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with a metal man, but you’d just as soon walk away. And even Hare isn’t out looking for the fights, even Hare, who wants so badly to let out some of the aggression that been ground so deep into him it might as well be hardwired, isn’t going to provoke a fight.

Because the truth of it is, you’re not programmed for it. You’re perfectly capable of lying and cheating and hurting if you have to; it’s not going to break you to break them, but nine times out of ten, a glare can suffice, or a puff of dark smoke – hell, a raised fist if you must, but that’s enough to send most humans scurrying. And at the end of the day, you’re all of you cowards. You don’t have the guts to be killers; you’re pickpockets and hoodlums and low-down societal dirt, yeah, but none of you are killers.

It makes you feel just that much more complete to have a gun in your hand.

To be clear, you have no desire to become some mindless weapon, to be pointed and fired. You do not romanticize or moon over the idea of killing humans. The idea is actually in its own right quite repulsive to you.

With a gun in your hand, though, you are not the same automaton who must do as Master Becile wishes. You are not the bot who has come to the realization that the only way to keep your brothers in any semblance of safety is to pretend to be their enemy. With a gun in your hands, you wouldn’t have to watch your creator mete out punishment, knowing that anything you did against him would only worsen the situation. You could stand up for your brothers, finally be really on their side instead of quietly placating and suggesting and politicking your way through your Father’s moods.

“I would kill you in a second,” you growl, voice low and muttering though there is no one to hear you. Your hand snaps out, sweet little Remington clutched against your palm, the crack of gun fire shattering the silence of the evening. The barrel smokes, the bottle your bullet crashes through seems to explode off the fence. Roughly seventy yards between you and the target, and it’s nothing short of perfect. You feel good, but it’s a dark good, muddied with pent up rage, a sort of budding mania that often overtakes you on these little outings.

Fanning the hammer, shots fire rapidly, the line of rusting cans and glass bottles disappearing as they either burst or fly off the fence. The harsh grind of your voice raises with the thunder from the gun, biting out words buried deep inside yourself. “Shoot you down like a rabid mutt.”

The Remington is only a six shot, and you toss it, not quite carelessly, back down when it’s spent and grab another handgun. Though this little piece of land is quiet, out of the way and inhabited only by the occasional vagrant, you’ve never taken out either shotgun, and especially not the Thompson. Besides, power aside, there’s something so much more personal about the handguns.

It’s something about how they explode in your hand, smoke and thunder and the acrid stench of gunpowder; each pull of the trigger like hooks inside you, dragging out emotions you pretend not to have. All the anger, all the rage, all the built-up bitter hatred, ripped from you and screaming through the air, ripping into metal and glass and dispersing into nothingness.

It becomes rhythmic, automatic. Fire, fire, fire; six shots, gun spent, drop, new gun. Begin again.

Shots tear through the little field, rocketing into the targets you’ve meticulously placed on the surrounding fences; on stumps and hanging from the crooked branches of nearby trees. As you fire, you talk to yourself, voice rising and falling. Growling and shouting.

You curse your Father, the only man you ever expected to give a single fuck about you or your brothers. The more anger you pour into your words, the hotter your furnace burns, until you feel fire spitting from your maw with each word. And still you scream. You call him a bastard, you call him selfish; you tell him (though you’ll never say it to him, never in life) you wish he would die, that you wish you could kill him. Why, and you want to know so badly; why build us if you hate us? Why keep us around if we’re such garbage?

The words spew out of you, a vomit of wasted emotion. All your hate, all your rage, every single negative thing that you’ve turned back in on yourself, twisted in your guts like barbed wire. And that’s exactly how it feels, it hurts exactly that much, like you’re wrenching barbed wire from your guts and out your mouth. But it must go on.

At some point around the time you’re picking up the sixteenth gun (Smith and Wesson .32, for what it matters) you realize that the words aren’t so much coming out as words anymore; just an increasingly harsh yelling. Giving in to that is good; no more words, just the energy tearing through you, all the blackness pouring out like the bullets, like the flames.

In the end, by some mistake or some unconscious fluke, you’ve expended every target and you’re left holding a gun with one bullet. The gun is your favorite, that little honey of a murder machine, the Schmidt M1882.

Suddenly the intake of air required to keep oxygen on your flames is ragged, your grip on the gun too tight. Your arm is actually shaking from the exertion of the last fifteen minutes’ shooting, or maybe from the weight of the gun in your hand, and you find yourself staring at your hand, willing your fingers to release or at least slacken, but they don’t.

With measured slowness, as if you must be very careful in the action, you lift the gun, turn it, and press the muzzle against your temple. It’s hot; a perfect circle of heat, and you shudder.

Photoreceptors click off, the gun steadies. Why not? What exactly have you got going on that’s so wonderful? Your father is a selfish, moody prick who cares absolutely nothing for you or your brothers; your brothers, one of whom is as close to a drunk as he can be and hates you, and the other who is glitched beyond help and terrified of you. And you care so little for yourself. You’re nothing, a shadow of a man, not particularly successful in your endeavors to protect your brothers and there isn’t one single thing you can think of to redeem the hateful, horrible things you do in your father’s name. You deserve to eat this bullet just for your little meeting with Hare, even if the rat was looking for punishment.

So why not.

Just why the fuck not?

With a sigh, very soft and rasping with embers and soot, you lower the gun, hand finally relaxing as your photoreceptors click back on.

You sit on the grass and pull out the maintenance kit from the bag in which you stash your little collection, fingers glancing fondly over the barrel of your Winchester, still securely folded away in the bottom of the bag. Before you can go, the guns must all be cleaned, oiled, and reloaded; made ready for the next time your anger reaches a point where it might escape in some other way.

As you clean, you do not think about your actions prior; you content yourself with the repetitive action of breaking the guns down, cleaning, oiling, tending to them. You don’t want to go there. You don’t want to think about what you may or may not have done, even though the smell of your overheated system is accosting your olfactory with the reek of burnt oil. It’s better not to go there, not to try facing it. Bury it, throw all the other dark things in on top of it, and shoot it down later.

Because you are a coward, and you are unjustifiable, and you are too low to bother wasting bullets on.

Because you love life even if yours isn’t worth anything.

Because maybe somewhere in that pit of hate and venom, Becile doesn’t hate you. And maybe Hare will understand one day what you try to do, why you’re the bastard that you are.

Because maybe, just maybe, there’s a point to it. You just have to find it.

#becile bots #the skull #the skull becile #neoma writes

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rivetgoth · 6 years

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The Twin HCs

Okay, so without the third movie (which supposedly was gonna delve into Lucifer’s backstory and Hell’s beginnings) we’ll never really know the lore for the Twin sadly, and I’ve spent a billion years thinking about it so I’m just gonna throw my headcanons at you all. I’ve put a lot of time & thought into all of this and included MANY sources both from the movies and from outside sources, but of course it may not prove to be canon should Terrance ever decide to release info we didn’t previously have :)

The Twin was the serpent in the Garden of Eden who tempted Eve. Aside from “demon snake” making this already an obvious conclusion to jump to, this fits to me because June is meant to be an Eve-like figure in “Alleluia!”, as she “eats forbidden fruit” (the book she takes even has an apple on it) and she’s cast out of God’s kingdom for trying to gain knowledge that God didn’t want her to have. The Twin is the very first being she truly interacts with in Hell, and he lures and tempts her and then steals from her. Plus a lot of what he does with Merrywood is tempt her and lure her into losing everything. It feels like a fitting parallel.

Edit: By complete coincidence I had to read some literary analysis recently that actually explored the fact that the serpent in the Garden of Eden has frequently specifically not only been used as a symbol of trickery (very very obviously fitting of the Twin), but also of a symbol of theft, which fits the Twin stealing June’s horseshoe pin from her as well, and being the carny specifically chosen to confront Merrywood in the first film after she’s damned to Hell for literally being a thief. Some scholars actually also consider the serpent a symbol of sexual desire, which is fitting since I want the Twin to f

(Actually, as a side note, what’s super interesting about that is that in Dante’s Divine Comedy the part of Hell that thieves are sent to is specifically filled with serpents, because of the reason stated above. As punishment for thievery the serpents rob the damned souls of their own identity.... THAT SOUNDS... FAMILIAR, RIGHT. ANYWAY...)

Genesis 3:14- “So the LORD God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this, cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.’”

So after the Twin tricked Eve into tasting the forbidden fruit, God curses him and all serpents to live the rest of their lives crawling on the ground. Who knows what the Twin looked like prior to this curse. We have no way of knowing, but now he was in the form of what we think of as a modern day legless, armless noodle creature. A snake.

However, Lucifer defied God, perhaps at the Twin’s plea (more on that in a second), and gave the Twin a human form with legs and all. This was a big deal, because it was a very early act of defiance against God and his wishes from Lucifer, as these were still the early days after the fall.

Nivek Ogre on the Twin- “I myself tend to have too much empathy so I wanted to make him very sympathetic. I kind of saw him as one of the original shells that were shucked down to hell. He probably made a bargain with the man below and is now living in fear trying to escape his fate by taking on the appearance of another. However while doing this he tends to see the best parts of him which gave him a slight bit of humanity. He also would see their nastiest thoughts which ultimately would do them in. It is both an empathetic and vicious character. I see myself as the bait for Lucifer.“ [source]

The “bargain with the man below” is left ambiguous; I think that could realistically fit my headcanon, if you envision that the “bargain” the Twin made with Lucifer was to defy God’s curse on him and give him a human form. However, if you go along with that idea, Ogre’s words also imply that the Twin isn’t necessarily happy with what he got on his end of the bargain. He “lives in fear trying to escape his fate”...

...Which brings me to my next point, which is that Lucifer’s powers are not nearly as strong as God’s, especially not at this point, when he was still young and had only just begun his work on Hell, and Lucifer certainly can’t create life. He could only kind of give the Twin a facade of a human form.

In “Alleluia!”, during the flashback with June, we see the Twin’s skin is different. He appears to have serpent scales almost breaking out of more human flesh, as opposed to the fully scaled form we see later on in the future (in the first movie and at the end of the second). We also see that the Twin uses a cane sometimes in the first movie.

An article about the makeup for the second movie- “[The Twin’s] make-up goes back and forth from past to present. Through the film we finally see him become the lizard-like Twin through a series of different looks like leprosy.” [source]

Note that maaaybe this isn’t the most reliable source on concrete facts, especially considering the fact that the Twin is referred to as a lizard rather than a snake lol (and I think he is definitely supposed to be a snake, he... he hisses), but it’s a good and official quote to point out the obviously intentional visual change and progression in the film. I also think the leprosy comment is interesting and fits the theme; leprosy is seen in the Bible as an uncleanliness that only God can cure. If Lucifer gave the Twin a body that goes against God’s wishes, perhaps it would begin to “fall apart” in a way similar to the way the Bible claims one who is unclean from God’s blessing would?

(comparison between the Twin’s flashback makeup and “present” makeup)

I think the Twin’s body degenerated over time and slowly returned to a more serpentine form. Lucifer’s powers could only do so much. Now, at the point he’s at by the time we see him in the first movie, I don’t think his condition will get “worse.” I don’t think he’s going to lose his humanoid form altogether, but I think initially, at the very beginning, he looked significantly more humanoid, and as time has gone on his skin has shed (the way a snake’s would) back into scales and his legs have become weaker, and it can cause him a great deal of pain to walk on them for too long a period of time, because they’re entirely unnatural to him. They directly defy God’s wishes. The Twin drinks and uses a cane, we see that in the first movie. I think he deals with a lot of physical pain.

Nivek Ogre on the Twin Part 2- “My character is the twin who’s an empath and someone who is able to take on the characteristics - physical and emotional - of anybody that they come in contact with. He’s a trickster, but at the same time I think he is one of the most empathetic characters in hell because he’s able to feel all of your pain, all of your troubles and all of the worries that you have. But also all of the secrets and the nastiness. That’s where it turns dark for him. He does show empathy, but he’s still, at the very heart of it very sociopathic and reptilian almost - in a way, cold blooded.” [source]

This quote gives the best insight to the Twin as a character, I think. To summarize as well as inject some of my own interpretation and headcanon, the Twin is very much a snake at heart. “Cold blooded,” as Ogre puts it, both literally and metaphorically. I think the Twin has a sense of morality on a totally different plain than other people, and I think he’s very instinct driven. I think he enjoys shiny things and carnival games because frankly he’s a simple creature and he’s amused and distracted and pleased easily by these things because, again, he’s a snake. He was a snake and there’s a part of him that will always be a snake. He certainly is not human, and does not have a human conscience.

However, I don’t think this makes him “evil” at all. As Ogre states numerous times, the Twin is a very, very empathetic creature, which also makes sense to me in the context of him being a snake. Snakes can sense emotion in a very unique way; they’re sensitive to touch and feeling and if a person shows fear around a snake, for example, the snake is more likely to be tense and aggressive. Being calm around snakes is imperative for their own comfort or else they lash out or flee. So in a way, snakes are incredibly empathetic, but in a very instinct-driven way. The Twin, too, can sense the emotions of others to an extreme, even supernatural degree. He can take their emotions on and adopt them as his own. He feels their pain and their fears and the darkness in their hearts that sent them to Hell in the first place. But, like Ogre said, at the end of the day he’s very “sociopathic” about it, and these don’t necessarily impact him in a long term negative way that they would a human taking on the extreme negative emotions of others, so he’s the perfect man for the job down in Hell of doing exactly that.

Although there’s no long term emotional exhaustion from the Twin when he takes these emotions on, and he’s able to “cope” with feeling negative emotion pretty easily and simply reflect it back on the person to torment them, I think that experiencing these emotions does “humanize” him in a way, or “gives him a slight bit of humanity,” as Ogre says. The Twin doesn’t experience human emotion firsthand, but he does secondhand, and that’s stopped him from being literally nothing but an instinct-driven snake. There’s something more there.

I also think the Twin is, in a strange way, very much a big brother figure for the other carnies. He has no ill feeling towards them. Actually, he has no ill feelings towards anyone (except perhaps God and his angels). Again, he’s not evil. He’s among the carnies in every major crowd scene, participating and having fun alongside the others. He’s in every audience during the songs of the first movie, even participating and laughing and throwing coins and drinking with the others, he dances with everyone at the end, and he throws his armband with everyone else in the second, and claps and cheers for June when she does the same.

He was one of the first beings in Hell, and the other carnies, I think, are very aware that he’s incredibly powerful and full of knowledge - and secrets. I think a lot of them have a lot of respect for him, and maybe fear him a bit; they certainly wouldn’t tease him the way they do the Magician. It doesn’t help that I don’t think he’s necessarily wildly social and he can be very hard to understand and connect with on an emotional level (because, again, he’s a snake), but he does care in his own way. He is, after all, an empath, and he can relate deeply to their experience of being cast out by God and trapped in Hell for eternity. He’s driven primarily by instinct, and his idea of friendship probably mostly is based around playing cards and other silly carnival games because he really clearly enjoys that, and he would have absolutely no qualms robbing you if you had something shiny on your person, but he still does care about the other carnies and has fun with them when he’s around them, even if he’s a bit cold and intimidating and difficult to interact with one-on-one.

If another carny were “make the first move” interacting with the Twin, like actually coming to his tent and initiating a conversation or asking to play a game with him, I think that’d actually make him really happy, and he’d be really happy to have someone to spend time with. He seems like he’s enjoying playing cards with Wick at the beginning of the first movie!

Cute! =}

As for some more fun headcanons I have that aren’t grounded in much but they make me happy:

The Twin hisses when he speaks because he has a snake accent. He’s gotten good at covering that accent when he’s in another person’s form, but he still slips up sometimes and you can still hear him hissing in another person’s voice. He’s working on it.

The Twin likes to tell stories, and he can get very excited while he’s telling them, and if he gets too excited, he’ll start taking the form of the people in the story as he’s telling it. Like, “And then the Magician said THIS-” [takes the form of the Magician without even realizing it]. It’s actually very entertaining and makes his stories even more fun to listen to, and he really doesn’t notice he’s doing it.

The Twin is actually impressed by the Magician’s magic on good days, which makes the Magician feel really proud of himself because the Twin is such a well respected figure in Hell, but he really shouldn’t be all too proud because actually, the Twin literally is just impressed by shiny things. The Magician conjures up some sparkles and the Twin acts like it’s the best thing he’s ever fucking seen (but, in seriousness, he’s also impressed by the Magician’s little magic tricks, because the Twin himself clearly dabbles in magic tricks in his own games, so the two of them can actually bond over that shared interest).

The Twin sheds every... I dunno, thousand years? Ten thousand years? It’s not a wildly frequent occurrence, but he sheds just like a regular snake would, which is a wildly unpleasant process. When a snake sheds, their ENTIRE body sheds, including their EYES. For a period of time before shedding a snake is almost entirely blind as its skin encloses its eyes. He’s incredibly uncomfortable during this time, not only is he blind but there’s, like, a literal full layer of skin half-attached to his body. He probably spends this time hidden away inside his tent, not social at all. Snakes in general tend to be more cautious and reserved and hostile should they be bothered during this time, because they’re so vulnerable. He’s in an extra pissy mood during this time. Then, afterwards, he gets a shiny new coat, bright green and very pretty, but it’s very sensitive at first, so he’s still not very keen on social interaction for awhile LOL.

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT!!!!!!!!!! THERE’S MORE HONESTLY but I figured I’d keep it at this since this is already long as hell, buuuuut I wanted to share OKAY I love him. 💕🐍💕

#THIS IS SO LONG I JUST HAD TO SHARE OK.#the devil's carnival #alleluia! the devil's carnival #tdc

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ineverhadmyinternetphase · 7 years

Text

Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) 28/28

Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)

Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery

Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.

Word count: 240,000+

Updates: Sunday

Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

For reference, @snowbunnylester is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

A/N: And… we are here. Final chapter!! I’m honestly so emotional, this story has been such an incredibly long journey but one I’m so incredibly proud of and I know Elizajane is too. Thank you so, so much to everyone who has been along on this epic journey with us, to everyone who has left us feedback on AO3 or tumblr or even just liked a chapter, everything means so much to the both of us and the reception of this story has been fantastic.

Now, we have a slight proposition to run by you guys. This is the first story that Elizajane and I ever wrote together, and as such it is very close to both our hearts. Also, we spent so much time editing each chapter and piecing the story together for posting that it has grown into something we’re really very proud of, and us such, we have been considering possibly reworking this story into something we could self-publish together.

So we’re asking you, our readers: how would you feel about us taking this down to turn it into something we could self-publish? I know some of you have already said in the comments that we could do this, and this means the absolute world to both of us, but please be honest with how you would feel if we did this as your opinions are important to the both of us

And one final thing: the most incredible silentorator has made a cover for this fic!! The art is absolutely beautiful and we were both shocked and so so happy when we saw it, it’s beautiful and more than we could ever have expected. Please click on this link to go and see it: http://silentorator.tumblr.com/post/164372031120/a-cover-for-the-story-steal-my-heart-steal-my

And now, enjoy the final chapter!!

(AO3 link) (Masterlist)

Chapter 28

Four Days Later

Standing in front of the Royal Hall at Cornelia and Martyn’s wedding reception this time around was a very different experience. For one, neither Phil nor Martyn had been certain they would ever get here, and for two, Phil was very much so not alone for the first time at a public appearance.

Next to him stood Daniel Howell, proud and resplendent in the royal blue robes that Phil had dressed him in, hair styled back and face painted over in makeup that only enhanced his features, but changed none of them. On their fingers lay two matching pairs of rings -- the rings they had gifted each other, and the royal betrothal rings Phil had promised Dan they could get rid of once they were married.

They were two ghastly looking purple and green stained metals that were given to every Royal betrothal, and while neither male could wait to be rid of it, custom demanded that its presence be included if Dan or Phil ever wanted their betrothal to be taken seriously.

Phil’s mother had given them the two a mere few hours after they’d returned from their mission to save the Princess, offering them both a quick wink before scurrying off to take care of whatever else needed to be taken care of in the Royal City.

It had been an honest relief to receive them so soon, and while Dan had put up a fight at wearing them, he’d given in at Phil’s insistence and promise that they’d be rid of them soon enough. This way, no one could fight them on their status as betrothed, which Phil thought was secretly the real reason that Dan had given in so easily in the end.

Now, they were stood among all the finery of a royal wedding, watching on as Martyn and Cornelia had their first dance.

The last four days had truly been hectic, and Phil still couldn’t quite believe everything that had happened. The music around them was almost too cheery for all that Dan and Phil had been through, and yet Martyn and Cornelia seemed happy at least.

Having Dan’s hand in his was definitely helping to make Phil happy as well, even as he thought back to all that they had been through.

After Cornelia had been saved that night, much had happened. Dan and Phil had been rushed to Phil’s bed chambers for a much needed bath and a rest, and while they’d soaked together in the tub, relaxing for the first time in the last few days, a healer had come to look at Dan’s wounds. Dan had forced Phil to cover his private bits with some bubbles while he himself climbed out of Phil’s tub with no shame, bearing his left side to the healer as if it were the natural thing to do.

Phil had been relieved when the healer had reassured that there was nothing wrong with the cuts; no dark magic, poison, or infection, and they would heal up into three very nice scars soon enough, and might have dragged Dan into a rather enthusiastic and relieved kiss the minute the man was gone. Dan hadn’t complained, climbing into Phil’s lap in the tub, and having his way with him.

They’d retired to Phil’s rather large bed not long after, Phil’s mother sneaking in only once to drop off their rings for them, and then sneaking back out.

That night they slept fitfully, unused to the comforts of royal life after so long living out in the wild, and when morning came, they were thrown back into the chaos and mayhem of palace life.

Dan… had not been enjoying it very much just yet, not that Phil could blame him. Being in the Palace meant adhering to the Palace customs, and that meant no more parading around in his dark brown cloak, or scuttling up to the rafters whenever he pleased. No, this time, Dan actually had to attend to the royals around him, be polite to the people he’d been stealing from for most of his life, and make easy and polite small talk with them while Phil went about his business.

It was driving Dan crazy.

These were people he’d broken into the houses of countless times, stealing their most precious possessions and running off cackling into the night. Never mind that when Dan did reveal himself in public, it was usually to incite fear. Threats fell far more easily from his tongue than polite epithets.

But this was Phil’s world, now. And Dan wanted a place here. He was just going to have to learn how to be polite.

Perhaps one of the most difficult things was the change in his appearance, though. As soon as they’d finished their first bath and Dan’s cuts had been checked, Phil’s next order of business had been to sit Dan down and get to work on his face. He’d trimmed Dan’s hair and painted gentle patterns onto his skin, hiding some of the more visible scars, skillfully applying touches here and there to soften Dan’s face from the battle-wearied, sun-drenched life he’d led so far.

They’d also decided it made sense to let Dan’s hair fall in its natural curls, rather than Dan’s usual attempts to have it lying flat and straight. Much to Dan’s displeasure.

All in all, every time Dan caught sight of his reflection, he startled at this person he did not know. It also made him look younger, closer to his real age, and for a while Dan worried that people would think him too immature for this, not yet ready for Phil.

And yet, Phil showed him off at every possible moment, leaving Dan in no doubt as to his feelings. They were meant to be together, and if they had to put up with the occasional judgement of others, then so be it.

They’d hardly had a moment alone since they’d arrived home, far too exhausted by the time they went to bed to do much more than curl up together and share a quick peck or two, and it didn’t help that Phil had constant duties to attend to.

One of his first orders of business, however, was to set up the counsel to began dealing with the mountain people, explaining what had happened and demanding that something be done about the dragon before any more innocent lives were taken, sacrifice or otherwise.

With a newfound roughness from having fought on his own in the wild, there was something wild in his eyes that prevented any man from arguing against Phil’s case, and the King, Martyn, and Phil signed a bill into action declaring the dragon a national enemy.

Shetler would be given to the mountain people should they seek it, while the dragon was taken care of, and their punishment to be put off for a later time. First, Phil needed to make things right for them.

After that business was taken care of, Phil moved on to gathering his best advisors to start looking into the matter of the witch. Once the dragon was taken care of, she needed to be disposed of as well, though very little was currently known about her.

Phil was certain that it would get done, if he had to lead the head of the chase himself.

For now, though, nothing could be done until a lead was found and research was done, and, because of the nature of being a royal, the second Royal Wedding took precedent. As before, Phil was swept up in the planning, only this time, Dan came with him, and while Phil hated every minute of it, Dan made it that little bit more bearable.

After four days of nothing less than chaos that left Phil longing for his and Dan’s days in the desert, the forest, the mountains, they were finally here, at the Royal Reception, with Martyn and Cornelia finally married.

If nothing else, that was something to smile about, even if Phil was itching to finally go -- where? Anywhere but here, if he was being honest.

Tonight, after the reception, would be the first time Dan and Phil had been alone together in a long while, but before that, Phil had a toast to make, and a few royals to greet. Then, he could whisk Dan away.

As Martyn and Cornelia’s first dance came to an end, Phil smiled and raised his champagne glass into the air, Dan awkwardly following his lead, and shouted a loud toast with the rest of royals at the reception. Everyone clapped, and laughed, sipping at their champagne, until Phil brought it all to a stop by taking his spoon and tapping it lightly against the side of his glass to get the large hall’s attention.

Once everyone had gone silent, Phil grinned, and tightened his grip on Dan’s hand.

They were both still stood at the front, with the King and Queen, ready to sit down and eat as soon as the toasts were given.

"To my Brother, your Crown Prince, Martyn Lester, and my new Sister, your Crown Princess Cornelia Lester. May all the blessings be heard upon your marriage today. I stand before you with my newly betrothed, Mr. Daniel Howell, and seek your blessing in return, so that both our marriages will be praised and heard of over the whole of the Kingdom."

Hearing Phil proudly announce his betrothal to Dan, using Dan's own full name, had more of an effect on Dan than he had been expecting. He was so happy he thought his heart was going to burst. As much as Dan didn't feel much like himself -- not dressed up in these robes, with his face painted and the gaudy ring on his finger -- but despite all that, Dan couldn't help but beam.

The wedding was far more spectacular than Dan had ever seen, if a little boring. In fact, Dan had spent the majority of the service muttering under his breath to Phil, regaling him with stories of how often he'd broken into the houses of basically every one of the distinguished guests. Phil had snorted too loudly on a couple of occasions, which Dan was personally proud of.

Now, he was standing at the head table with Phil at his side, getting congratulated by all the other royals, as everyone cheered on the toast, screaming “Long live the Lesters!”

Turning to Dan with a large grin spread wide across his face, Phil leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Dan’s cheek, laughing when Dan’s cheeks went predictably red.

The King gave his toast next, and then the Queen, and Dan and Phil stood throughout all of it, raising their glasses of champagne and drinking when appropriate. All Phil really wanted then, however, was to sit and finally get dinner done and over with, so that he could retire to his rooms with his thief. He had a lot of lost time to make up for, at that point.

Finally, when all the speeches were done, Martyn and Cornelia joined the rest of the Lester clan at the front table, and everyone sat down to enjoy their meal.

Dan was on his best behaviour the whole time, thanking all of the royals gratefully and meekly, playing his role as commoner perfectly, as they approached the front table to congratulate both Martyn and Cornelia, and Dan and Phil. Dan didn't know much of the customs, but it was okay -- apparently, he hadn't lost his charm.

Dan was kind of itching to get back to Phil's room, though, so he was more than relieved when the feast finally came to an end, and they just had to say their goodbyes before disappearing.

Finally, finally, they were back in Phil's bedchambers with time to themselves for the first time in days. Dan wasted no time in shoving Phil down onto his bed and slowly but surely removing every single one of their rather posh Royal robes.

Defiling the Royal bed sheets was just as much fun as Dan had always thought it would be, as it turned out.

Phil didn’t once complain; in fact, he grinned so wide at the way Dan expressed his own eagerness for the very first time in pushing Phil over, and accepted Dan’s kisses with a very open desire of his own.

Somehow, this moment was so much better than the first time Phil had ever brought a suitor back to his rooms.

Afterwards, Dan lay back in his favourite place -- wrapped up in Phil's arms. He nuzzled at Phil’s hair, kissing him softly and sweetly and more happy than he'd ever dared to allow himself to be.

He'd caught himself a Prince, and Dan was loving it.

"So how am I doing?" Dan murmured into the peaceful quiet, stretching out luxuriously on the bed. "Is Daniel Howell a good enough mask to be your betrothed, my love?"

The romp in Phil's bed was a much needed, pleasant activity that had left Phil good and sore, but also pleasantly relaxed. His arms were once more securely wrapped around his thief's body, and he was pressing soft kisses all over the top of Dan's head just because he could, when Dan spoke up.

"Mm, you did wonderfully, Dan," Phil whispered, possibly still flying a little bit high on his orgasm. He was beyond glad to have been in a bed for all that Dan had done, taking full advantage of it, clearly.

His thighs ached with the love bites sucked into them.

"And your persona is definitely the perfect mask, my love," he added, unable to help himself when he giggled at the small pet name. "My love. You really are all mine, now, aren't you?" he asked, eyes wondering as he stared down at his thief. It all seemed so much more real, now that Dan had actually attending a royal function with Phil, and Phil had been able to announce his intentions towards him to, essentially, the entire kingdom.

All that was left was for Dan to cut the chains from his wrists and make off with him, and then Phil would truly feel like he’d accomplished everything he’d wanted to in coming home with Dan.

He was ready to be free.

Dan smiled up at Phil, dimpling, a reflex reaction to that look, those words. He reached up and touched Phil’s cheek just once, softly, staring straight at him and wondering again just when this Prince had stolen his heart so completely.

“All yours,” Dan promised softly, and leaned in for another kiss. “As you are mine, my Prince.”

They kissed a moment longer before Phil pulled back again, fingers threading gently through Dan’s curls. "And you looked amazing in that makeup, if I do say so myself. I think I did a pretty good job of cleaning up the King of Thieves," Phil teased for good measure, ruffling Dan's hair and laughing as Dan moved to look up at him, completely affronted.

"Excuse you," Dan huffed, mortally offended. He propped himself up on his elbows, leaning over Phil with a narrowed gaze and hard eyes. "I think you'll find the King of Thieves needed no cleaning up at all. At least, I didn't hear you complaining any of the times I've had you before, as myself." He nipped at Phil's ear, drawing the lobe between his teeth, and pressing his finger into one of the many marks he'd left scattered on Phil's skin.

"I hardly even feel like myself," Dan added, laying his head on Phil's shoulder after a moment and collapsing fully on top of him, despite the fact this bed had far more space even than their two giant forms could take up. "I had fun, though. Socialising with the people I've stolen from is really quite enjoyable."

Phil was still laughing even as Dan took his ear into his mouth and bit down playfully, trying to make a point of things as he also pressed one hand against a mark on Phil's rib cage. The sensation of Dan pressing into that made Phil's hips twitch, and he laughed again as he caught a very cuddly Dan as he fell back into Phil's arms, choosing to use Phil's body as his bed rather than the down comforter of Phil's actual bed. He didn't bother to complain, resting his arms around Dan's waist and just enjoying the way it felt to have their naked skin pressing together again.

"I'm sure you enjoyed yourself. You seemed quite pleased. It's a good thing the royals were looking for you to be pleased with yourself sitting next to me or I reckon they might have cottoned on with the way you kept smirking at everyone," Phil teased, but he didn't care what the people around him thought. Dan being smug and cunning was everything Phil needed him to be, and the royals would soon discover that with Dan at his side, Phil was a force to be reckoned with. It was good for them to see Dan so sure of himself already.

Dan glanced up at Phil, that same smirk back on his face. “Well, I don’t have to please your people. They already love you enough to accept anyone you tell them too, I think.” He chuckled, leaning into Phil’s touch and encouraging him to begin petting his hair, right where Dan really liked it. “I'm glad your parents seem to approve, at least." Dan's eyes softened further, growing almost melancholy. "My father would have loved you. And my brother -- oh, he'd have been so thrilled. A real Prince -- his dream come true. They'd be so happy for me, I think."

Phil moved one hand in a slow sweep up Dan's back, and dug his fingers into Dan's hair, scratching lightly and laughing when his thief immediately went limp on top of him.

"I would have loved to meet your family," Phil agreed quietly, voice going solemn. "I would have treated them with the greatest respect they deserved. I would have asked your father for his blessing before I asked you to marry me, and I would have made certain your brother had anything he could have ever wanted... I am truly sorry that they can't be here with us, Dan."

Dan stared up at Phil, more grateful than he could even articulate that Phil had answered in just the most perfect way he could have. In a different world, maybe Phil would have had a chance to meet Dan's father, to see his brother having everything he could ever have wished for and more. It made tears prick at the back of Dan's eyes, though he blinked them away quickly, instead leaning down to give Phil a long, affectionate kiss, trying to express all the emotion that he couldn't quite put into words.

"They'd be proud, that's all that matters," Dan mumbled, tilting his head into Phil's touch and nestling down against him. He'd never been this comfortable -- as much as he might not want to admit it, there was something nice about having an actual bed under them. That, plus privacy, was quickly making Phil's bedchamber one of Dan's favourite places.

"You know," Dan murmured into Phil's shoulder, "Somehow, you manage to be more comfortable than your bedsheets. I hope you know I don't plan to give up using you as a pillow just because you've got soft silken sheets here." This was despite there being a giant space next to Phil where Dan could be lying, but Dan was much happier curled up exactly where he was: on Phil's chest.

Phil closed his eyes and breathed Dan in, more thankful than he could say that, at the very least, Dan Howell had survived where the rest of his family had not. Phil didn't want to imagine a world without Dan, didn't want to imagine his life without Dan, and held the man tighter in his arms. He pressed another kiss to Dan's head once Dan had re-settled on top of Phil's chest, and went back to carding his fingers through thick curls.

Laughing happily, Phil shook his head. "I'll be your pillow for as long as you like," he agreed softly. "Whether there are silk bed sheets at our sides or not. I quite like feeling your presence on top of me," he admitted sweetly, glad to finally be alone with Dan again.

Planning for the first royal wedding had been no less stressful the second time around than it had been the first, and Dan had finally seen first hand why Phil hadn't been chasing him around and giving Dan the attention he'd begged for before the first wedding.

"So," Phil started. "On the topic of weddings," he continued, realizing belatedly that they hadn't been speaking of weddings, Phil had just been thinking of them, "How about ours, then?"

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Dan snorted with laughter, pressing his face further into Phil's shoulder. "Only you, Phil Lester, could sound so casual about something so huge." Dan shook his head, his voice full of fond, and his eyes soft and warm as he finally glanced up to meet Phil's eyes.

A wedding. Their wedding. Dan Howell, self-proclaimed King of Thieves, was actually getting married, and to a Prince. A royal wedding. Dan had found the first one dull enough, how on earth was he supposed to sit through a second? Even if it was his own. The only good thing would be formally tying himself to Phil, so that everyone could see that Phil was Dan's and Dan's alone.

He might have been enjoying watching all the hearts breaking throughout the Palace when they saw Prince Philip was no longer for courting, but, well, Dan wasn't planning on telling anyone that.

Dan's answering snort of laughter only made Phil grin fondly, knowing even before Dan had said it that he wasn't laughing at the idea of them getting married, Dan had already made it very clear that he didn't consider Phil's proposal a joke of any kind, and so Phil didn't fear that at all.

"Well," Phil replied, amused himself. "I am the Prince. Why shouldn't I be casual about my own wedding? The Prince gets whatever he wants, after all," he teased, shaking his head at himself to assure Dan he was joking. Dan's eyes were soft, happy, as he looked up at Phil, his dimple popping from the force of his grin, and Phil loved that look so much.

Phil reached up and cupped Dan's cheek with his hand, smiling sweetly back at him, intending to drag him into a kiss until he got distracted at the way the rings on his hand looked against Dan's skin. It was a remarkable feeling, that realization hitting him again that they were engaged.

"I think I can cope with a wedding," Dan whispered into Phil's skin. "Even if it is royal. As long as I get you at the end of it." Dan's eyes were bright, and he lifted a hand to cup Phil's cheek, leaning down to press another warm, loving kiss to Phil's lips.

Phil turned his attention back onto Dan, eyes going soft and bright as Dan leaned up to kiss him again. He sighed against his thief's lips, drew him closer with a laugh when Dan tried to pull away, and kissed him again and again. He'd never get enough of Dan, but his thief was swatting at his shoulder now, so Phil let him go.

"I'll tell you a secret, though," Dan murmured with bright, mischievous eyes, "I want to steal you away in the morning. Pretend it's some custom from my family, I don't care, I just know I want to whisk you away on a proper adventure -- one where we aren't fearing for our lives. Before your mother never lets me leave with all the planning she wants to do. You know she tried to discuss flower arrangements with me earlier?" Dan looked faintly disgusted. "There are more important things. And she didn't like magnolias, so I can't pay her at heed at all, I'm afraid."

Phil’s mouth curled into a delighted grin as Dan voiced Phil's thoughts exactly, and he moved to roll them over, ignoring Dan's very undignified squeak in response, to press his own body over Dan's.

"Yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," Phil replied, the words muffled against Dan's lips as he kissed him again, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. It was like Dan had just proposed to Phil this time with how jubilant he felt, and he pressed close mouthed kisses all over Dan's face as he drew away. He wanted those chains cut from his wrists so bad, wedding be damned, and Dan was going to give just that to him.

"I was hoping you'd agree to postpone the wedding," Phil finally explained, what with Dan looking up at him in delighted confusion. "I wanted to run away with you first. I want to see at least part of the world before we get dragged into more wedding planning and more speeches and long drawn out ceremonies that no one wants to attend. I just want you, to be with you, just you, before we both find ourselves drawn back into my world. I've had enough of my world. I want to be a part of yours," Phil explained and swooped back in to kiss Dan all over again.

"Besides," Phil murmured when he drew away just enough to speak again. "It's our wedding. If you want magnolias, we'll have magnolias," he determined, and then swept Dan back up into his arms for another delightful round of defiling Phil's royal bed.

"Definitely having magnolias," Dan agreed through a little laugh, until he rolled under Phil and was thoroughly distracted for the rest of the long, comfortable night in Phil's bed.

In the morning, the servants entered to find Prince Philip's room empty, the window open, and nothing but a note intended for the eyes of the King and Queen alone left on the desk. The servants were astonished, but took it straight to the Queen, who read its contents with a small smile on her face.

She resigned herself to waiting a little while longer for her second son's wedding.

At the same time, out in the desert, two cloaked forms were making long strides in the sand, hands firmly entwined, with the entire world spreading out before them.

#phanfiction #iwritephanthings #snowbunnylester #phan au #fantasy phan au #steal my heart

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thoughtsandlife23 · 7 years

Text

Brothers And Weddings

Crossposted to: AO3

Summary: Or the one where Leonard comes back to walk his sister down the aisle.

This is for the anniversary of Destiny. @stillthewordgirl you are awesome for coming up with the idea of a Leonard Snart fluff ficathon in commemoration of disaster that was Destiny. Also Thank You to @dragonydreams for editing this for me. It wouldn’t have made sense if she hadn’t and there would be a lot of spelling mistakes.

Lisa Snart takes a deep breath as she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she looks gorgeous in a strapless flowing white dress. She still feels like she’s dreaming. It is her wedding day, her actual wedding day, to Cisco Ramon no less. She had never imagined that she would have ever decided to get married, especially with her childhood, and to end up married to Cisco Ramon, well, let’s just say that her brother would have had a field day if he had ever found out.

She feels an ache in her heart as she remembers her brother. Lenny had always been her hero. He had protected her through everything, especially when it came to their father’s abusive tendencies. He had made sure that their father never touched her, smarting off at their father to turn his attention to him instead and leave her alone.

After their father went to prison, Lenny had become her father as well as her big brother because he did everything in his power to give her everything she wanted from ice skating classes to even simple things like school supplies. He never raised so much as a finger to her, even going as far as to help her steal her ex-boyfriend’s car after he had thought that hitting and kissing her was a good idea.

So she had expected that if she was going to get married, her brother would have been the one to walk her down the aisle; but he couldn’t even do that because he had gone and blown himself up trying to be a hero.

When Mick had come to Central to tell her, she hadn’t believed him at first. Her brother was a thief, he stole things, he didn’t die to save the world. Everyone had given her their condolences and kept telling her that he had been a hero but all she had wanted was to yell at them because her brother didn’t need to be a hero because he was already a hero to her. He just had to be alive to walk her down the aisle at her wedding, but she guessed she couldn’t get everything she wanted because here she was marrying the man she loved and yet her brother was still dead.

She takes deep breaths to calm herself down, willing the tears from falling down her face and ruining her makeup. She’s so focused on this that she doesn’t hear the door opening and someone entering the room until she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns and her brother is standing there in a sharp suit and smiling.

“Lenny,” she gasps in shock as throws her arms around him and squeezes him so tightly he almost can’t breathe. “How?”

“Complicated time travel stuff that I will explain to you later at the reception.” Lenny explains as she continues to squeeze him tightly. She lets go and then punches him in the arm hard enough that he winces in pain. Then she hugs him again, squeezing tighter than she had before.

“You look beautiful, Sis,” Lenny compliments as she lets go of him and he spins her around. “Like a princess; and you’ve even got a crown on your head. Never thought you’d ever get one, Train Wreck.”

“First, it's not a crown it’s a flower headpiece. And second, how the fuck are you alive? Last I heard you’d been blown to smithereens,” she asks as she punches him in the arm again.

“I told you, I’ll tell you later,” he says with a smug grin as he takes her arm in his. “But for now, Lisa Anne Snart, let’s get you married. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, just give me answers later,” she says resigned. She still can’t believe that he’s standing right in front of her, she's about to hug him again when Caitlin enters the room to tell them that it's time for Lisa to walk down the aisle. Caitlin, though, is not even surprised that he’s here and as she leaves Lisa glares at her.

As they’re going out the door, her brother turns to her and says with a raised eyebrow, “But Cisco Ramon, really, Lise, really?”

And she lets out a loud uninhibited laugh for the first time in almost a year.

The wedding is perfect. Lenny walks her down the aisle gracefully and without tripping, which she warns him about before the start of the ceremony which then earns her a scow. (She’s certain there will be a lecture later on how he’s a thief and thieves are graceful and do not trip, especially on their sister’s wedding day.) Cisco is standing at the head of aisle with Barry Allen as the best man, looking sharp and handsome in a white tuxedo and smiling the biggest smile she has ever seen on his face; she feels tears in her eyes as she reaches him.

Lenny places her hand in Cisco’s but not before grabbing his hand tightly and warning him to never hurt her otherwise he would steal the Waverider and freeze Cisco during the explosion of Pompeii so that he would die a most painful death. Cisco lets out an awkward chuckle and she hears Mick let out a full belly laugh in the front seat before she elbows Lenny in the stomach painfully and glares at him as he places her hand in Cisco’s and walks back to sit next to Mick.

The celebrant starts to talk and soon it’s time for the vows and her new husband is smooth, if she does say so herself, because he makes her laugh and cry as he says his vows.

She starts crying around the time he says, “I promise to invent an unending supply of gold for your gold gun, and I promise to build you an ice rink make of gold so you can skate as much as you like and be the queen of the ice.”

When she finishes her own vows she glances around the room and sees that her brother has started crying too. No matter how much he denies it later, she knows what she saw and she will stand by it. Heck even Mick is crying. Wow, she and her husband are good because this is the first time she has seen her brother cry, ever.

After the vows, the rings are exchanged and when Cisco kisses her she thinks that maybe you can get everything you want after all and realizes that this is the happiest that she has ever been her entire life.

Later during the reception, after the first husband-and-wife dance (which she and her husband perform perfectly, thank you very much) Lenny explains to her that it was the Flash who had rescued him. The Flash had grabbed him from the Speed Force after the Flash had been forced to enter it and seen Lenny there stuck. It turns out the Speed Force and the Oculus are connected she thinks it's probably because they both had something to do with time but, meh, she’ll theorize with Cisco later. When he had returned back to the real world his Lenny's body hadn’t been able to handle the months spent in the Speed Force especially because he had absorbed some of the Oculus's power when it exploded and now he could see everybody’s past and future, if he wanted to.

She asks him to give her a glimpse of her future, but he only smiles at her mysteriously before he stands up, takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor for the brother-sister dance. She knows that it's usually the father-daughter dance but her brother has protected her for her entire life and made sure she had everything; she’s pretty sure that’s the definition of what a father is, so yes, she will dance with her brother for the father-daughter dance.

“Don’t step on my foot please,” Lenny teases her quietly. It’s been a running joke between them. When their dad had been put in prison they had decided to try dancing classes and Lisa, being the clumsy one that she was, used to step on her brother’s toes EVERY. DAMN. TIME. And he had never let her forget about it.

Now, though, she laughs out loud, flicks his shoulder and promises not to step on his toes as she leans her head on his shoulder as they sway and he twirls her around the floor. This is the most peaceful moment of her life she realizes, dancing with her brother at her wedding without the threat of any cops or their father looming around. She sighs and promises to savour it for as long as possible.

She feels happy in a way that she never has before. It is her wedding and there have been no disasters, no tsunamis, no evil supervillain, (according to Cisco she wasn’t considered a villain anymore because she had helped the Flash way too many times, she had huffed at him in annoyance when he had said that) her brother is back and was able to walk her down the aisle and, really, she couldn’t ask for anything more.

In fact, as she dances with her brother and stares at her new husband talking to an annoyed Mick about improving the cold and heat guns, she realizes she doesn’t want to, because she has nothing else to ask for. Right now, everything is perfect.

#Legends Of Tomorrow #Leonard Snart #Snart lives #Fuck Destiny #Lisa Snart #Golden Vibe #Cisco Ramon #WE NEED MORE SNART SIBLINGS IN OIR LIVES

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superbard-blog · 5 years

Text

Brother Crow, Article 1

Okay, so I’ve been working on a world for a little bit longer than a year now. I’ve given it the name “Corza”, but honestly I forget that I’ve named it half the time because it was nameless for basically 9 of its 12 months of life. See what a good parent I am? Anyway, the part of the world I’ve given the most thought to is the religious aspect. There was a whole process to determine how religion worked in this world (I attempted a monotheistic approach early on because I’d never seen it before and it sounded cool. Fool.), but I eventually settled on deities heavily determined by their alignments. There are 5 deities, one for each alignment component; there’s a LN god, a NG god, a NE god, a CN god, and a N god. Because they’re the ultimate representations of their alignments, however, they’re all “stupid” varieties of their alignment. For instance, Brother Crow, the CN god, is Chaotic Stupid. I thought it would be fun, and it kind of is.

Speaking of Brother Crow, I’ve made a bit of a write up for him. More’s coming soon, but I’ll just throw down what I already have done here. Feel free to leave any critics of it. It probably won’t get changed, but I like seeing what people think. Feel free to steal it, too. Highest flattery, am I right? Also, the stat parts are written for 1st edition Pathfinder. The rest can be taken for anything.

BROTHER CROW

Old Dark Wing

God of art, chance, chaos, freedom, the moon, theft, and trickery

Alignment Chaotic Neutral

Domains Chaos, Darkness, Liberation, Luck, Travel, Trickery

Subdomains

Centers of Worship

Favored Weapon Short sword

Symbol A crow perched on a branch in front of the moon

Sacred Animal Crow

Sacred Colors Black, Silver

Obedience On the night of a full moon, steal something to adorn your home. The value of the good isn’t important, only the act of theft. On nights without a full moon, tell a short story to a small group that promotes trickery and living life to the fullest. Gain a +2 sacred or profane bonus on stealth checks. The type of bonus depends on your alignment- if you’re neither good nor evil, you must choose either sacred or profane the first time you preform your obedience, and this choice can’t be changed.

EVANGELIST BOONS

1: Nightbringer (Sp) obscuring mist 3/day, darkness 2/day, or deeper darkness 1/day

2: Peerless Thief (Ex) You gain the skill talent ability in Pathfinder Unchained for both the sleight of hand and stealth skills. If you already possess these abilities, you instead gain a +3 bonus to said skills.

3: Shadow Strike (Ex) You ignore the restrictions on sneak attacking in dim or dark light conditions; this does not apply to other sources of precision damage. In addition, when you sneak attack a target in dim or dark light you deal an additional amount of damage equal to +1 per number of sneak attack die you possess. If you don’t possess the sneak attack ability, you instead gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls in dim or dark light

EXALTED BOONS

1: Enthralling Storyteller (Sp) hypnotism 3/day, daze monster 2/day, or suggestion 1/day

2: Crowbound (Su) For a number of minutes per day equal to your hit dice, you gain some of the traits of crows. Your arms sprout feathers, granting you a fly speed of 30 feet (average maneuverability). You also gain a +2 sacred or profane bonus to Appraise checks and your Intelligence score while in crow form. This Intelligence boost is treated as temporary and does not grant bonus spells to Intelligence-based casters like wizards or witches, though it does increase the save DCs for their spells. The minutes spent in crowform need not be consecutive, but they do need to be spent in minute long increments. This ability can be activated as a move action.

3: Luck of the Crow God (Su) You gain a small amount of Brother Crow’s godly luck. 3 times per day, you may treat any natural 1s you roll as natural 20s.

SENTIAL BOONS

1: Unbound (Sp) grease 3/day, knock 2/day, or remove curse 1/day

2: Artful Strikes (Ex) Your sword work has become a thing of beauty. Whenever you make a full attack with a short sword, choose one target within 30 feet who you did not attack this round; they must make a Will saving throw (with a DC of 10 + your Charisma modifier + ½ your hit dice) or be staggered for 1 round by your perfect movements.

3: Chaos Moonblade (Ex) Brother Crow grants his favored followers some of the chaotic, frigid powers of the ever-changing moon when the need is dire. As a free action, you can cause your weapon to appear as a shaft of hard moonlight for a number of rounds per day equal to 1+1 for every 4 hit dice you possess. When you do so, a single weapon you hold gains the archanic and freezing weapon special abilities (you can use this ability on a ranged weapon but can’t apply it directly to a piece of ammunition). If you drop or give the weapon away, the effect ends. The rounds of use do not need to be consecutive.

It is said that when Father Turtle had split the light from the dark two entities sprang forth. One was made of solid light while the other was composed of shifting shadow. The two fought for eternity before the dark one fled to the newly created moon. The godling of shadow became known as Brother Crow and took into himself everything the night represents: luck, change, inspiration, and deception. Since his inception, Brother Crow has used these traits to hinder his twin and eternal foe, Brother Lion.

While not evil, Brother Crow places little stock in the laws or conventions of society. As a result, artists, thieves, and revolutionaries are some of his most ardent worshipers. Those seeking luck or inspiration also flock to his side, hoping that their fortunes change as rapidly as the moon. Transmuters, gamblers, and inventers tend to favor this aspect of Old Black Wing over his more disruptive views. This is not to say that Brother Crow distances himself from the more morally sensitive parts of his church. At his heart, he’s a god of chaos, the night, and trickery. As long as his church follows these ideals, he cares little for what they do. Of all the gods, he’s the least directly involved with its affairs.

Although neither deity would admit it, both Brother Lion and Brother Crow are responsible for the advent of civilization. Whereas the Lion provides the more visible focus of cities, towns, and laws, Brother Crow inspired things such as architecture and the principles of freedom. He also elevated the Cukar into the first forest gnomes, and while they’re still devotees of chaos, their tower gnome kin are bound to the rule of law. As a result, he has mixed feelings about civilization as a whole. On one hand, Brother Crow wishes to tear it all down to spite his brother. On another, he finds it to be an excellent place to practice certain aspects of his portfolio, such as theft and art. At the end of the day, he finds bringing his full force to bear against these works of law to be too much effort.

A consummate shape changer, even Brother Crow can’t remember what his initial shape once was. As such, he might appear as anything, though his favored form is of a large black crow with eyes that gently glow white. This is unusually how he appears when he wants to send a message quickly, as it is almost instantly recognizable. When he appears as a humanoid, he’s usually identifiable by his slight frame and pale complexion. Of course, Brother Crow is not restricted to these shapes and could easily appear however he pleases. Artist depictions tend to show him in his crow form or as a pale man surrounded by shadows. The moon is a common motif in such pieces, as are musical instruments, broken chains, and bags of treasure. Most paintings show Old Black Wing in the art of stealing or tricking people.

Brother Crow’s holy symbol is a crow perched on a twig in front of a full moon. Anything bearing a moon on it can bear his power, however, though the more artistically talented amongst his followers take great pride in possessing aesthetically pleasing holy symbols. Brother Crow goes by many names, including Old Black Wing, the Trickster, the Crow God, the Crow King, and CukarKun (meaning “Gnome Father” in gnomish). Brother Crow’s clergy is mostly composed of priests, though many rogues, bards, and scoundrels spread his doctrine of change and freedom. When pleased, worshipers find guard dogs fortuitously asleep, unexpected artistic talent rises, and crows drop items useful for the task at hand nearby. If Brother Crow is angered, fingers become clumsy, pick pockets get drawn towards the offender, and the victim speaks with a perpetually cawing voice.

#pathfinder #dungeons and dragons #gods #d&d

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ifourdezign · 6 years

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PLEASE DO NOT BUY

It has recently come to light that a source, be it a bot or several individuals, has stolen considerable amounts of my artwork (and hundreds of others) to try and sell on the teeshirt site Teespring. For which, I am neither a member nor do I wish to be associated with. Stolen designs are usually sold under a campaign ID that hides the identity of the seller, (most of which are silly nonsensical codes) In all instances, the work has been directly lifted pixel for pixel from my Redbubble store. Though it is impossible to determine which previews they have targeted, it is easy to see that those responsible don't care a dot what they put up. As, in all instances, I've had designs put on TS products and tees with RB watermarks still on them and my original ©. Yes, folks…art thieves really are that blatant, ignorant and stupid!

I have filed more IP claims in one week than I have ever had to do in about 5 years! Thankfully, TS has acted on all those I have found and reported. But, I know it will not stop those who are intent on stealing trying again. it could be tomorrow. Next week, next month...who knows! So, what can you do if you come across this stuff? Contact the artist direct — Always try to find a contact address. Most of us are on social media or portfolio sites like deviant art. I would much rather be told you have found something suspicious than not be told at all. Looks are very deceiving — OK, so you find a tee/product that you like. And then you think "Well it looks perfectly OK to me! Then you add it to your cart. STOP AND REMOVE!!!! Trust me on this! To the untrained eye, it might look fine. And that is why these people often think they can get away with it! But, take it from someone who knows. The replication on these designs, in most instances, is considered poor.

On close inspection, the artwork usually has pixelated edges (the magic wand on any editing software will not replicate the time spent on the original), it may have terrible colour shifts, it is likely to print fuzzy, with little to no clarity (especially on apparel) and there may even be parts of the design completely missing! (Often noticeable when you select a different colour tee other than black or white.

In fact, you are essentially looking at totally shite copies! And while these people may be very clever at stealing this stuff, most have NO idea how to use editing software. And the ones that think they do, perhaps thankfully, are just too lazy to even try! Don't part with your cash! — There is a plausible reason why my version is the original version. Because, ironically, even though I might be too modest to say it often, I'm good at what I do! And most of what I do is done with attention to detail and a lot of care! It also really fucks me off when some fuckwit, no-brainer comes along and steals work I take a real pride in producing. Especially when it is stuff that is incredibly personal to me.

Basically, your money’s going into some fat cat’s bank account, who lacks a conscience and the ability to design their own artwork!

So, the next time you see something you really like, just take a moment to check out the source. Check for artist names. Ask around. Because, if you don't, all you are doing is giving someone who cares about no one else but themselves exposure. They hide behind HTML code and a name that is complete gibberish. They lack any conscience and will NOT think twice about taking yours or my money!

Thanks for listening and if anyone does stumble across anything they think belongs to me please contact me on Twitter - ifourdezign or leave me a note on DeviantArt

— ifourdezign

#ifourdezign #stolenartwork #IamNotASellerOnTeespring #ItIsSoulDestroying #ImOnlyOnRedbubble #DontbeFooled #ThievesHaveNoConscience

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marketingplaybook · 7 years

Text

Entrepreneurs: On Theft, Piracy and Buying from Thieves and Pirates

[NOTE: This post continues a series exploring the topic of entrepreneurship. While my focus has and will continue to be on Facebook ads, I have plenty to share about what I’ve learned while building my business.]

The first time it happened was around four years ago. I launched a new training course about Power Editor. I was feeling good about myself because it was doing better than I had expected. My first product. Then an email arrived…

I don’t recall exactly what it said. I’ve received many similar emails since then. But a concerned reader was letting me know that some scumbag was selling my course at a ridiculous discount.

Anger. Rage.

I was obsessed. How could someone do this to me? I overcame so much to create a product. At this point, my business was just getting off of the ground. Someone else steals it and sells it for about 10% of the cost. That’s money I’m losing. They’re taking food off my table.

What do I do? Do I get an attorney? Do I threaten them? How do we take this down? How do I make them pay?

That was only the beginning, of course. No matter what product I sell, there will always be someone looking to steal it.

Over the years, my approach to the thieves, pirates and people willing to buy from them has changed. I hope that this post can provide some perspective while you — if you’re doing it right! — inevitably deal with a similar fate.

It’s Good to Have Something Worth Stealing

I don’t think I saw this at the time, but looking back… The first time someone stole from me, it was a sign that my business was legit.

Seriously. It wasn’t the first day that someone bought my product. It was the day that someone desired to steal it and make their own profit. That was my coming out party.

If someone steals from you, try having that perspective. Someone thinks that your product is so good that they can rip it off, offer half the value (it will never be as good), sell it to people knowing that it’s ripped off and still make a profit…

When that happens? Well, I guess you’re doing alright for yourself.

So, consider it an honor when you get your stuff ripped off. I’d be offended if no one was trying to steal it. If people are stealing your stuff, raise a glass and celebrate it!

Shortcuts Don’t Pay… Long-Term

My feelings about those stealing my stuff have shifted from anger to pity. Come on, man. This is your business? You feel okay about this?

This goes both for those who steal content and those who buy it. I understand why both groups are doing it.

They are both likely desperate in some sense. One needs to make a buck. One needs an edge while watching their budget.

But both are grossly unethical. They’re selling themselves short. One isn’t confident enough in themselves to create and sell their own product. And I can’t imagine either will establish a legitimate, profitable, sustainable business that they can be proud of with that approach.

That’s too bad. And in that sense, I wish I could talk some sense into them. I wish I could help.

If You Buy From Thieves…

It initially bothered me when I considered that someone might buy my product from someone who ripped it off. But I’ve come to peace with this.

Why? Anyone willing to buy my products from another source — underground and untrustworthy — is not my target audience.

We don’t have the same core values. I don’t want these people buying my products.

There was a time when every dollar mattered. I eventually realized that I simply don’t want some people buying my product.

My products are not a good fit for everyone. If it’s over your budget, please don’t buy it. I have plenty of free content that can help you, too.

But it goes to ethics as well. If you are willing to give your money to someone other than me for my product, we’re not a good fit. We shouldn’t be doing business together.

I established this years ago. My target audience does not buy my products based on price. They buy it based on value, trust and authority.

Mitigate Your Losses Where You Can

On Tuesday, I held the second webinar of my Facebook pixel 4-week training program. Immediately after that session, I spotted a discrepancy in the number of webinar registrants and number of purchases.

Yep, five people (at least three of whom had the same company domain in their email addresses) were rogue registrants within two minutes of one another. They found a back door and stole the second lesson.

I sent them an email. It wasn’t angry. It may have been edited several times. But the purpose was to let them know that they would need to purchase the program to access future lessons.

It was tough for me at first. I saw it as the equivalence of someone breaking into my home and taking something of value. But then I realized that these five people were never going to buy from me in the first place.

This was a good lesson for me. While I came to peace with those who made their way in, I wanted to find a way to prevent this back door without impacting the product or effort.

The back door was that someone who knew the webinar’s ID could easily find a generic webinar registration page and bypass the purchase process. And since I automatically accepted registrants, they were home free — until I found them, at least.

To mitigate this, I made a minor change. While I’ve typically allowed people to sign up for a training program after it begins, I will now update my landing page for the next month when the first lesson starts. Meanwhile, I will switch registration from automated to manual once the program begins to prevent the back door.

That’s one example of how I mitigate theft. Second, always make sure that at least part of your product can’t be ripped off.

For example, much of the value of my Power Hitters Club (both Elite and Basic) is found in the community. I also stream my weekly webinars directly to the private Facebook group. You cannot access those groups without being a paid member.

I embed recorded videos using Vimeo Pro, which provides options to prevent people from downloading the file. Even if there is a way around it, I’ll at least make those people work. And I don’t provide slides or anything else that can be passed on.

I’ve made it so the majority of the value in my products is what you can access live — with Q&A and direct engagement with my community and access to me.

Don’t Let Fear of Theft Control Your Product

While you should mitigate your losses, you also shouldn’t be paralyzed by potential theft. Create something awesome, thieves be damned.

It’s unlikely that you will ever completely eliminate theft. You can prevent thieves from stealing and selling it. You can prevent rogue webinar registrants from accessing a back door. But you can’t prevent people from sharing their access with friends and co-workers.

While I certainly don’t condone that activity and don’t encourage it, I’m no longer enraged by it. After all… If no one is stealing or trying to steal your product, maybe that product isn’t good enough?

Your Turn

This is a topic that I spent far too much time and energy worrying about in the past. My advice is to do your best to prevent theft, but don’t lose any sleep over it.

What are your thoughts on this topic? Let me know in the comments below!

Free Webinar for Entrepreneurs

I host a free webinar for entrepreneurs. It focuses on lessons I learned while starting my business. You can learn more about the details of the webinar here, or simply register below…

The post Entrepreneurs: On Theft, Piracy and Buying from Thieves and Pirates appeared first on Jon Loomer Digital.

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timothyakoonce · 7 years

Text

Entrepreneurs: On Theft, Piracy and Buying from Thieves and Pirates

I don’t recall exactly what it said. I’ve received many similar emails since then. But a concerned reader was letting me know that some scumbag was selling my course at a ridiculous discount.

Anger. Rage.

What do I do? Do I get an attorney? Do I threaten them? How do we take this down? How do I make them pay?

That was only the beginning, of course. No matter what product I sell, there will always be someone looking to steal it.

It’s Good to Have Something Worth Stealing

I don’t think I saw this at the time, but looking back… The first time someone stole from me, it was a sign that my business was legit.

Seriously. It wasn’t the day that someone bought my product. It was the day that someone desired to steal it and make their own profit. That was my coming out party.

When that happens? Well, I guess you’re doing alright for yourself.

So, consider it an honor when you get your stuff ripped off. I’d be offended if no one was trying to steal it. If people are stealing your stuff, raise a glass and celebrate it!

Shortcuts Don’t Pay… Long-Term

My feelings about those stealing my stuff have shifted from anger to pity. Come on, man. This is your business? You feel okay about this?

This goes both for those who steal content and those who buy it. I understand why both groups are doing it.

They are both likely desperate in some sense. One needs to make a buck. One needs an edge while watching their budget.

That’s too bad. And in that sense, I wish I could talk some sense into them. I wish I could help.

If You Buy From Thieves…

It initially bothered me when I considered that someone might buy my product from someone who ripped it off. But I’ve come to peace with this.

Why? Anyone willing to buy my products from another source — underground and untrustworthy — is not my target audience.

We don’t have the same core values. I don’t want these people buying my products.

There was a time when every dollar mattered. I eventually realized that I simply don’t want some people buying my product.

My products are not a good fit for everyone. If it’s over your budget, please don’t buy it. I have plenty of free content that can help you, too.

But it goes to ethics as well. If you are willing to give your money to someone other than me for my product, we’re not a good fit. We shouldn’t be doing business together.

I established this years ago. My target audience does not buy my products based on price. They buy it based on value, trust and authority.

Mitigate Your Losses Where You Can

I sent them an email. It wasn’t angry. It may have been edited several times. But the purpose was to let them know that they would need to purchase the program to access future lessons.

This was a good lesson for me. While I came to peace with those who made their way in, I wanted to find a way to prevent this back door without impacting the product or effort.

That’s one example of how I mitigate theft. Second, always make sure that at least part of your product can’t be ripped off.

I’ve made it so the majority of the value in my products is what you can access live — with Q&A and direct engagement with my community and access to me.

Don’t Let Fear of Theft Control Your Product

While you should mitigate your losses, you also shouldn’t be paralyzed by potential theft. Create something awesome, thieves be damned.

Your Turn

This is a topic that I spent far too much time and energy worrying about in the past. My advice is to do your best to prevent theft, but don’t lose any sleep over it.

What are your thoughts on this topic? Let me know in the comments below!

Free Webinar for Entrepreneurs

I host a free webinar for entrepreneurs. It focuses on lessons I learned while starting my business. You can learn more about the details of the webinar here, or simply register below…

The post Entrepreneurs: On Theft, Piracy and Buying from Thieves and Pirates appeared first on Jon Loomer Digital.

from Jon Loomer Digital http://www.jonloomer.com/2017/02/22/entrepreneurs-theft-piracy/

#IFTTT #Jon Loomer Digital

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