#that teacher that accidentally on purpose kidnapped those two kids | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

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Fic: Nocturne (21/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen

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

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

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Luna is shaking, she’s not going to lie. To think that war – invasion – came so close to Insomnia itself! And at the hands of the Kingsglaive, no less! With daemons, the scourge of Eos, as Niflheim's weapons of choice – she's heard of it before, of course, distantly, but she could barely believe it until she was seeing it - it’s vile, absolutely vile, and it shakes her to her core to know that any ‘taurs, any ‘taurs at all, would choose to use such a weapon.

"Don't be sad, Luna," Prompto says, patting her back comfortingly. "It's over now."

She nods. Over, at least until the trials for the traitorous Kingsglaive, and very likely Drautos' execution.

"Besides, the summoning thing was way cool," Prompto adds, which makes her smile.

"Never lose your sunny way of looking at things, Prompto," she tells him.

He grins at her.

There's a tap on her shoulder – it's Scientia. "I see that you listened to me about not dying," she tells Luna approvingly. "And my little troublemaker came back in one piece this time, too."

"It was one time," Ignis grouses. "And I got pneumonia last time, I didn't break something or anything."

"Lungs are a piece of you," Scientia says firmly.

Luna smiles at her, too.

"Now," Scientia says in her usual brisk manner, "would you like to go home or stay and hear the reports of what happened during the invasion?"

"Stay," Luna and Ignis both chorus.

"We get to?" Ignis adds, looking pleased.

"Well, you're certainly in the thick of it now," Scientia says, looking a touch rueful. "I doubt any of us realized quite how – eventful – these Covenants would be."

They all go to the sitting room, where poor Mr. Amicitia is still being patched up by his wife while Gladio watches worriedly, since Mr. Amicita refused to go to the hospital and take room from someone who probably needed it more, in his words. Luna’s not sure that was a good decision; he looks awful.

At least the King and Queen are all right, and the Kingsglaive they like, too, like the Ulric twins, even if Hemera has a nasty bandage on her arm and Libertus has a broken leg in a cast.

It's been hours and hours since they first arrived back, but this is the first opportunity they've had to all settle down and talk about what happened - everyone's been too busy putting down the last few daemons and restoring order to the city and capturing any remaining Kingsglaive traitors, and that's still ongoing, left in the hands of Cor's trusted Crownsguard lieutenants.

"So, today we went to form a Covenant with Titan," Cor says after a few moments of collectively stunned silence. "What'd we miss?"

That gets a laugh out of the room.

"I think you can gather the general outline of what happened here," King Regis says wryly. "And even I don't know all of the specifics yet. We'll be doing clean-up for days, if not weeks, yet to come"

"There is one thing I'd like to mention to the group up front, though," Mr. Amicitia says, frowning. "I was assigned to lead the division of the Crownsguard meant to arrest the emperor – unsuccessfully, as you can see –"

"How did that happen?" Cor asks, frowning as well. "You're easily a match for any of the MT guards they had, much less any of Niflheim's 'taur officers."

"I am," Mr. Amicitia says. "But not, it seems, for their Chancellor. He went through us like a knife through butter, and barely bothered straightening his posture to do it."

"Is he the Accursed?" Luna asks eagerly. She thinks he is, but it's not like they have any reason to know for sure.

"Still unconfirmed," Mr. Amicitia says, "but let's say – it seems reasonable."

"That would mesh with my observations as well," Queen Aulea says. "In fact, I'm hunting down a lead at the moment – Cyrella, your assistance in the library would be invaluable here –"

"Of course," Cyrella says.

"But that matter can be discussed further later," Queen Aulea continues, much to Luna's disappointment. "I take it from Titan's guest appearance that the Covenant was successful? I would appreciate the details."

The rest of the evening is mostly spent rehashing things and getting damage reports, which isn't quite as interesting as Luna thought it would be. And she's also extremely tired, so she's more relieved than she'll ever admit when Scientia insists that they go home after only a few hours.

Iggy complains, but a yawn breaks through right as he's trying to point out why he can stay, so Scientia doesn't accept his arguments.

When they get home, Luna wants nothing more than her bed, but it was a very exciting day, a very dangerous day. She's sure her mother will want to hear that she's doing fine, so, as much as she prefers to go straight to bed, she sits down at the little long-distance camera-phone set up she has on her desk and calls Tenebrae.

There's no answer.

Frowning, Luna tries again, but still – no luck.

Well, that happens sometimes, when her mother or brother are too busy to take her call. They'll call her back soon enough.

She goes to bed, secure in that knowledge.

That security becomes increasingly frayed when, over the next week, Tenebrae stubbornly refuses to either call her or answer her calls.

"I don't know what to do," Luna stresses to Scientia. "I don't want to bother King Regis with this – he's supervising all the rebuilding and everything –"

"It's important," Scientia tells her. "Not just because you're important, though of course you are, but because your mother is one of our allies. I'll set up a meeting with King Regis this afternoon, and I'll be happy to come with you when you talk to him, if you like."

"Yes please," Luna says, because she might be fourteen and have known King Regis for years now, but he's still scary when he's sitting on his throne.

King Regis listens to her concern and promises to make a few calls of his own, and, if those result in nothing, to send someone undercover to find out what's happened.

And so Luna waits, filling her time with school, and extra fighting lessons, and talking on her camera-phone with Cindy now that the other 'taur has all the pieces she needed to build her own receiver.

A month goes by, and then another, including Prompto's blissfully uneventful (albeit restricted to Insomnia) birthday party.

King Regis tells Luna that they've sent someone to go find out what's going on, and that they have a new receiver with them in case all that's happened is that the old one broke.

That's reassuring, a little, but not as much as she'd like. She wants news. She wants news now!

Sadly, the universe does not align itself with her whims, so she resigns herself to waiting.

Luna's in school when the call finally comes.

"– when I said now, I mean now," she hears Scientia saying from the corridor, sounding irritated, and gathers up her books with an apologetic smile at her classmates, who smile back, and slips out with a nod of approval from her teacher.

"I've gotten all my things," Luna says, seeing an annoyed Scientia with a harried-looking vice-principal. "Shall I be excused for the rest of today?"

"Yes," Scientia says before the vice-principal can respond. "Come along, Luna."

Luna comes along.

"What's going on?" she asks when they're in the car heading back to the Citadel. "Is everyone all right?"

If someone needs her healing – but no, she only does her healing sessions once a week, under Scientia's close observation to ensure that she's not over-extending herself – but maybe one of the children? Noctis?

"Everyone's fine," Scientia says. "Your mother called."

Luna brightens. "That's wonderful news! At last! What was it – did the receiver break?"

"In a sense," Scientia says, and says no more.

Luna rushes into King Regis' secondary office, since he also has a receiver there and her mother would more likely have called him than her given the time of day, not to mention the diplomatic protocol involved.

When she gets there, though, King Regis and Queen Aulea are there, and they look grave, and her mother is on the screen, and her steely mother’s eyes are wet with tears.

Belatedly, Luna begins to worry. "What's wrong?" she asks, looking at the adults. "Mother, what's happened? You got the new receiver working -"

"It's your brother," Queen Aulea says gently. "He's been taken by Niflheim; they broke the receiver to cover their tracks."

Luna staggers back, covering her mouth with her hand.

"It's worse than that," Luna's mother says, covering her eyes with her hands. "Ravus – Luna, Ravus went with them willingly."

"We will have to put our plans for the Inferniad on hold, of course," Regis tells Cor. "Which was likely the purpose of this gambit, assuming the Chancellor is in fact the Accursed."

Cor nods, agreeing. There is simply no way they can afford to split their forces for the Inferniad – every children's story and historical record they can find have all confirmed that Ifrit's fallen body, or his consciousness' consignment to deep storage if you preferred to think of it that way, had been rather notoriously placed within the Rock of Ravatogh, Lucis' most fearsome volcano.

A volcano, unfortunately, positioned very close to the border with Niflheim and Accordo.

Niflheim would need only send its fleet of airships to secure the location, and from reports they've been receiving, they already have.

That leaves only two approaches to get to the volcano: stealth, by some means they have not yet figured out, or a full-frontal attack.

Kidnapping Ravus Nox Fleuret was a very effective way to ensure that the latter option would not be feasible. Niflheim – or rather, its too-intelligent Chancellor – undoubtedly knows that Luna is being fostered in Lucis, and that Sylvia would demand Lucis' help in retrieving her son. Lucis could not afford to refuse, having taken the woman's daughter from her.

And so Cor was assigned to go attempt a resuce, and an elite division of the Crownsguard was to go with him as well; without them, no reasonable attack could be waged.

There was still some time before the Inferniad, but none of them thought the current situation likely to resolve in time.

"I would appreciate you taking some Kingsglaive with you as well," Regis adds. "The morale in that unit has been very low, given the ongoing trials."

Scientia is taking perhaps more glee than she ought to in ensuring that each and every traitorous wretch receives every single possible right they are due under the Lucis Charter, and rubbing it in their faces while she's at it. Her comparison of the laws of Lucis and Niflheim – pointing out that as traitors to the state, they would probably have just been shot on sight or possibly handed over as living specimens for experimentation if they had been prisoners of Niflheim – are growing increasingly less subtle.

Cor is in favor, though Regis worries that she's being cruel. Clarus is firmly on Scientia's side, though: he thinks that her comparisons might even be breaking through the shell of lies they've all told themselves, and possibly offering hope of eventual rehabilitation – though of course they will never be trusted with military service or even unmonitored access to the Citadel again.

The penalty for having been very good liars.

But for all that, it cannot be denied that morale amongst the Kingsglaive is in fact very low. The betrayals gave support to the unfounded accusations of their most bitterly xenophobic critics, who alleged that refugees would never truly become loyal to their new home and would thus turn on it at the first instance. Worse, the remaining Kingsglaive can't even defend themselves - the betrayals did occur, and Drautos/Glauca's particular choice of rhetoric had become public - other than to point out that most of the Kingsglaive did not betray Lucis, and that it was the Kingsglaive that suffered the highest casualties in opposing the traitors.

It wasn't much balm, though, especially during the seemingly endless series of funerals for the Kingsglaive that had been killed by 'taurs they considered to be brothers and sisters, often quite literally by being stabbed in the back.

No, the Kingsglaive needs something to cheer it back up, some heroism they can point to and say: we did that, for you. We are still willing to do what we must for Lucis, for Insomnia, for us all.

"I was already planning on it," Cor tells Regis. "I'm going to split up our attack, creating two teams: a larger armed force consisting of the main Crownsguard force, led by Monica, which will go straight to Tenebrae, focusing on liberating Sylvia's manor and assisting with the search using that as a springing off point, in case they've hidden Ravus near there, and a smaller strike force, let by me, to go straight into Niflheim to try to see if we can find him hidden in Gralea."

"Niflheim's capital," Regis murmurs. “That’ll be dangerous.”

Cor inclines his head slightly. "Agreed. As I said, I will lead the second strike force personally. Additionally, I plan to take some Kingsglaive – they're more accustomed to independent movement than the Crownsguard, since they're not as familiar with regular formation training."

"That makes sense," Regis says. "Not to mention the optics of the Immortal willingly going into battle supported by only Kingsglaive, demonstrating trust in them...yes, very good. You have my blessing – take whomever you like."

"I'll take the Ulric twins," Cor says.

"Oh?" Regis says, his eyebrows arching. "I'd rather thought that you'd want them to stay here - for the new leadership of the Kingsglaive...?"

Cor snorts. Regis would think that – he was never much of a war-leader, but then that's why he has Clarus and Cor.

"They're fantastic soldiers, and excellent leaders in the field," he says gently. "But they'd be awful captains. They're heroes by nature, not soldiers: they want to protect people from bad things, and that includes war. They'd name themselves to head every awful mission, just to spare others from having to do it; they'd refuse to assign the best people to the job for sentimentality's sake; and they'd probably get themselves dramatically killed by sheer over-exhaustion at the first instance."

"Never heard of anyone like that before," Clarus says dryly from where he's curled up on a couch. His injuries are healing well, though he's still bandaged up. "Not once."

"I," Cor says with dignity, "grew out of it. And they might, too, but they're not there yet. Besides, you've seen the quality of their paperwork."

Regis and Clarus wince. In the last few months, they've been jointly acting as the Kingsglaive's direct commander. Cor has taken a particular delight in forcing them to do all the paperwork that comes with the job – more, since they have to review Drautos’ past paperwork as well. At least for that project they have Scientia’s army of lawyers to explain the nuances, but the new documents? It’s all them.

Even for men accustomed to the paperwork of government, the paperwork of the military is an unpleasant beast of burden.

“No, they’re definitely not captain material, at least not yet,” Cor says firmly. “They’re heroes, and Kingsglaive needs heroes right now; I’m going to take them and give them a chance to do what they do best.”

“Any suggestions on who should be the next captain, then?” Clarus asks.

“Libertus.”

“Libertus?”

“Basically all of the Kingsglaive like him, he’s moderately easy-going but doesn’t let people walk all over him, he’s a decent fighter but a better strategist, and he has an entirely instinctual but very good code of ethics,” Cor says with a shrug. “And he somehow gets all of his paperwork done on time, which is frankly a miracle.”

Regis and Clarus look marginally convinced by that last one.

“Take it under advisement,” Cor suggests. “I’ll go pack.”

Packing, however, is complicated by the fact that when he gets home, there’s an overgrown puppy sitting in his pack instead of his clothing.

“Prom,” Cor says.

“I want to come with you,” Prompto says firmly.

“Prompto,” Cor says again.

“It’s Niflheim,” Prompto insists. “I’m a skeleton key, remember?” He waves his barcoded wrist. “I’d be useful.”

“Prompto. No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re nine. I’m not taking a nine-year-old into a battlefield. Not on purpose, anyway!”

“But –”

“No, Prompto.” Cor lifts Prompto out of his bag and puts him down near the door. “This one’s just me.”

“It’s always just you,” Prompto grumbles.

“Yes,” Cor says. “Because I’m an adult.”

“Just like you were when you joined the Crownsguard?” Prompto asks innocently, looking up through his eyelashes.

“Nice try, sneaky,” Cor tells him. “I was older than you are now.”

By at least four years, he tells himself virtuously. Maybe something like three and a half if you want to be bothered by little things like rounding and birth certificates. Damnit, it still counts.

Judging from the look Prompto is giving him, Cor’s not doing a great job keeping an entirely straight face about it.

Also, Gladio, at eleven, is getting dangerously close to thirteen.

He really hopes they finish the whole Prophecy before then, or he'll totally run out of decent arguments.

Somehow divining the direction of Cor's thoughts, Prompto sits back on his hindquarters, crosses his arms, and says, "If Gladio was the one –"

"He isn't," Cor says firmly. "Besides, he'd be staying home anyway to take care of his dad. Remember that?"

Prompto looks a little shamefaced for a moment, remembering Clarus' injuries, but quickly rallies with, "Iggy –"

"Is trying to comfort Luna, given how upset she is over Ravus’ defection. And Noctis is your age, so don't even try."

"Noct can do the summoning thing," Prompto points out. "No one else can. He'd be useful, too."

Cor sighs and settles down on his underbelly to look at Prompto. "Prom, I'm not refusing to take you because you won't be useful. I'm refusing to take you because you could be in danger, and I don't want that to happen."

"Danger's a part of life," Prompto replies. He sounds like he's quoting someone. Probably Cor. "It's how you prepare for it and how you handle it that matters."

Definitely Cor.

Damnit.

"Prom –"

"You said I could get a present or a privilege if I exceeded my shooting targets," Prompto says. "I did. Two days ago. I want to come with you."

"Prom –"

"This is what I want!"

Cor hates saying no to Prompto. But sometimes a 'taur's gotta do what a 'taur's gotta do.

"No, Prompto. You're not coming with me."

"Fine," Prompto explodes, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. "You go by yourself and maybe get hurt like Gladio's dad or – or – or worse, just because you wouldn't take me, and then I'll be sad and it'll be all your fault! So there!"

"Prompto –"

But Prompto is already turning and fleeing to the door. "Guess I'd better say goodbye now," he says, sniffling. "Since you're probably gonna be gone soon. But I'm still mad!"

And then he runs out.

Cor didn't even get his usual pre-mission good-luck hug.

He feels bereft.

"Six, what he'll be like as a teenager," Cor murmurs, scrubbing at his face. "I don't even want to know."

He hopes that his bright, sunny Prompto rethinks his decision not to say goodbye any further, but he doubts it – Prompto's definitely absorbed Cor's stubbornness.

No – best to just accept the way things are. They'll make up when he gets back.

Besides, if the worst should happen, he's written letters for Prompto to open, reassuring him of his love for him, his pride in his development, everything. Cor rewrites those letters twice each year, updating it with new details, new compliments, to make sure they're as good as he can get them.

It won't be enough, he doesn't kid himself about that. But it'll be – something.

Cor turns back to his packing.

A 'taur's gotta do what a 'taur's gotta do...

Nyx is honestly shocked that Cor Leonis has lived as long as he has.

"You – you – the Immortal – head of the Crownsguard – most well-known fighter in Lucis – have been to Niflheim before – how many times?!"

"I've lost count," Cor (the reckless bastard) says with a shrug.

“And after all that, the best you can do is tell us that it’s cold?!”

"Well. It is cold."

"What a characteristically effusive description," Hemera signs, rolling her eyes. "Please, tell us what you really think."

Cor shrugs.

"Remind me about the part where we need all the luggage?" Nyx asks, jerking his head back towards the literal crates of luggage they have on the back of the truck. "Seems unnecessary. I thought you told us to pack light."

"Those crates are necessary."

"But there's nothing in them but clothing!" Nyx protests.

"You looked?"

"Well, at one of them..."

Cor looks long-suffering. "The luggage itself isn't important. Having the luggage is important."

"How?" Hemera asks.

"The reason I've been so successful at smuggling myself into and out of Niflheim is that I do it a different way each time," Cor explains. "This time, since I have you two, we're going to go with the direct approach."

"I feel like there's a hidden jibe in there about Kingsglaive discipline," Nyx says to Hemera, shaking his head mock-mournfully. He can only joke about it because he knows that of all people, Cor wouldn't.

"Crownsguard humor," Hemera agrees. "Sad. Very sad."

"Shut up, both of you," Cor says, sounding amused – which is better than the rather gloomy he's sounded since he left Insomnia. Something to do with his kid; Nyx isn't sure what.

"So what is the plan, and why does it involve luggage with clothing?" Hemera asks.

"You're going as a noble canidaetaur lady, Hemera," Cor says. "From Galahd; you're visiting Niflheim. You know they allow canidaetaurs in pretty liberally, even if they're from Lucis-aligned states."

"That's true," Hemera signs, but she's scowling. "But – a lady? Why?"

"Because then Nyx can go as your bodyguard, and since, as a lady, you'd never stoop to pantomime when someone doesn't understand you because of your deafness, that means I can go as your translator," Cor says. "Your meek, scholarly translator, who you have no choice but to take with you everywhere you go, even if it's technically barred to felidaetaurs."

"That's brilliant," Nyx says after a moment of sheer appreciation. "As a translator, they'd start seeing you less as a person and more as a floating narrative voice."

"Exactly," Cor says.

"Meek?" Hemera signs doubtfully. "You?"

"I'm a decent actor when it calls for it," Cor says dryly. "Also, I have an ugly set of glasses – you'd be amazed how much they help."

Nyx can't wait to see that.

"I see your tail wagging, Ulric First," Cor says warningly.

"Who, me?" Nyx says, deliberately wagging it harder.

"I feel like I should be Ulric First for this trip," Hemera signs. "Given that I'm the noble lady and all. Ugh, does that mean I have to wear jewelry?!"

"Looks like it, selena," Nyx says fondly. "Also, we're getting close to the ferry to Altissia – Cor, should she change?"

"No, no need; changing on board is fine," Cor says. "The ship itself is secure – staffed and filled with people we trust. I want to leave as soon as we get to the port."

"And here I was hoping to experience Galdin Quay for myself," Nyx says, sighing over-dramatically. "The largest population of Galahdians outside of Galahd, you know. They might have real food, not that bland stuff you makes us all live off in Insomnia."

"You'll live," Cor says.

Boarding the ferry is easy enough. Cor produces the snazzy new identity papers they're going to use. Hemera's is ridiculous – Lady Adrasteia delia Ushas, of the Laomedon Estates over on one of the northern isles. It's a real place, with a fairly notorious tendency to change hands between its many distant family members due to a very unfortunate testamentary decision made generations back . Nyx is Erebus Black, a longtime family retainer and her personal bodyguard, and poor Cor is Geryon Praeneste, a translator.

"At least you got the names right," Nyx says cheerfully. "I was worried you used Lucian roots, instead of Galahdian ones."

Cor rolls his eyes. "You done checking us in?" he asks the guy in charge of greeting guests. "Good. Let's be off as soon as possible."

"We delayed departure of an earlier timed vessel for you," the guy says. "So you're the last guests; we can leave at once as soon as your luggage is stowed. Go make yourself comfortable – the journey will be about five hours long from Galdin."

"Five hours?" Nyx asks blankly. He can sail, though as an inlander he doesn't make too much of a habit of it, and he can read a map. "How?"

"There's a cruise element," the guy says with a shrug. "For fancy vessels like this one, we prefer the scenic – and, coincidentally, slightly safer – approach to Altissia. There are more direct routes, but..."

"Not as fancy, not as safe, gotcha."

Hemera pokes Cor, who has his eyes turned back to shore with a very un-Cor-like gloom again. "Let's get something to eat first."

Nyx approves of her plan – and not just because he's always hungry, the way she's always teasing him about. Cor's a leader, first and foremost, and he takes care to ensure that his people are full and energized.

Even if he does pick at the food on his own plate like it's personally offended him.

"You okay?" Nyx asks after a bit.

Cor shrugs. "I have a food thing," he says vaguely. "Hasn't acted up in a while. I'll get down enough to be functional, don't worry."

They spend about an hour at the ship's truly stellar buffet, clowning around a bit in hopes of lifting Cor out of his sulk. They're not entirely successfully, but he does start laughing at the lobster quadrille they put on, complete with Nyx singing the words.

"All right," Cor says after a while. "Go get changed; if there's anything we need to fix, I want to know it now."

Nyx's outfit consists of an overcoat of dark greys and dark purples of the Laomedon estate, very stern but for the somewhat flouncy white shirt underneath – very piratical – which is pretty standard for more monied Galahdians to insist on for their households. He dabs kohl under his eyes, too, which he hasn't had to do for any practical purpose since he left Galahd, and braids the appropriately fierce set of beads into his hair: he's already got good luck ones for fighting, honor and good health in, but he adds loyalty and commitment, plus a whimsical strand signifying smooth sailing – which, in slang, is an indication that he's both single and open to sharing his next heat with the right 'taur if someone's interested.

He's about halfway through touching up his tattoos with a henna overlay that suggests a slightly more conservative heritage when he hears the yelp.

He's out of the door in half a second. "Hemera! What is it?"

Cor's out there too, sword in hand.

"You're going to have to break that habit if you want to come off as meek, you know," Nyx tells him. Now that he's had a second to consider, Hemera's yelp was surprised but didn’t sound like she was either in pain or afraid.

Cor rolls his eyes. He's in a pretty clever variant of understated Lucian servant dress – same colors as Nyx, yet somehow desaturated and even more conservative a cut, more business-suit than soldier. His clothing is a bit too large for him, making him even thinner than he already is and hiding his powerful shoulders. He does, in fact, have a set of spectacles on that somehow manage to complete the effect of a weedy, anxious little man.

It’s – actually really effective. And super weird.

Shit, how many people has Nyx overlooked while on guard duty if Cor the freaking Immortal can do that?

To avoid having to think about that too hard, Nyx knocks on his sister's door. "Selena? You okay?"

She knocks back 'yes, give me a second'.

"One sec," Nyx tells Cor.

"I know what that means, yes," Cor says dryly, putting away his sword.

A few moments later, Hemera opens the door partway. "You will never believe what I found in the luggage next to my dresses," she signs, looking exasperated, and then she opens the door the rest of the way and drags forward –

"Prompto!" Cor exclaims, rushing forward and embracing him.

"Hi, Cor," Prompto replies, smiling broadly and hugging him back.

"What are you doing here?" Cor demands after a few seconds. "I told you that you couldn't come!"

"I'm your skeleton key," Prompto says firmly. "I'm not gonna let you go without me."

"You do know I've been in Niflheim multiple times before, right?"

"Yes, but you've never been to Zegnautus Keep," Prompto replies. "I heard you and Uncle Clarus talking about it."

"Zegnautus Keep?" Nyx echoes, eyebrows arching. "No wonder you needed a noble lady involved, if you wanted to get an invite in there. Isn't that a giant airship that's only sometimes a city?"

"It's the seat of the Emperor when he's at Gralea," Cor says. "If Ravus went willingly, like Sylvia says, and they decided to leave Tenebrae, then that'll be where in Niflheim they take him. His pride won't permit anything less. Prom, I have half a mind to turn this ship around right now and send you back home!"

"Does that mean you have half a mind that you won't?" Prompto says hopefully. "You'd lose a lot of time that way, you know."

Cor sighs. "Prom, we're going undercover –"

"I know!" he interrupts. "I got Noctis to lend me some of his court clothing; I'll fit in with the nobility disguise, no problem!"

"Noctis?" Cor says, sounding alarmed. "Prom, if Noctis is there, I am turning this ship around, time loss or no time loss!"

"No, no," Prompto says quickly, though his tail's started going a million miles an hour at the suggestion in Cor's voice that he might not get left behind. "He had to stay back at home, since he's helping out with the rebuilding effort and doing a lot of public appearances and charity visits and stuff. Iggy's helping him with all of that, plus he's got to take care of Luna, and Gladio has to stay with Noctis 'cause he's his Shield and also 'cause of his dad –"

"Gladio knows he's not officially a Shield until he turns sixteen and gets his tattoo, right?" Cor asks, clearly having given up on turning the ship around, to judge by the way he's absently started grooming Prompto's fur and the way his tail has gone all relaxed and happy.

"He's still a Shield, even if it's unofficial," Prompto says firmly. "And that's everyone accounted for, except for me, and I'm with you."

Cor groans.

"He can be my son," Hemera signs. "I'll be a tragic widowed heiress, taking her only son and heir to visit the land of his father – a dashing Niflheim sailor who visited Galahd only briefly before dying tragically saving lives in a storm –"

"Glacian's jewels, Hemera, where'd you get that from?" Nyx exclaims. "A romance novel?"

"Telenovela, actually," she says, grinning. "They're kind of addictive. I've gotten Libertus into them – you're next."

"Fuck no I'm not next."

Cor has his eyes covered. "This is a terrible idea," he grumbles.

"But you're doing it, right?" Prompto asks eagerly.

Cor taps Prompto's nose with a finger, causing the puppy to giggle and hide his face. "I'm going to need you to be very careful, okay?" he says. "First sign of serious danger, you're going back on the boat."

Prompto's nodding furiously.

"You have a screwed up sense of danger, boss," Nyx can't resist telling Cor, even though it makes Prompto give him a dirty look. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"It's Niflheim," Cor says, like that explains anything. Perhaps figuring out from Nyx's glare that he needs to expand on that, he adds, "Prompto's originally from Niflheim – possibly even from Gralea proper. It's an important part of his heritage, and I don't want to keep him from it."

"An important part of his heritage which we're at war with," Nyx points out. "And currently infiltrating."

Cor makes a face. "In my defense, it isn't actually the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Knowing you? That's totally not a defense," Hemera signs. "Come on, kiddo," she adds to Prompto, who – thank the Six – is fluent in LSL after all these years. "Let's get you dressed up – luckily your hair is just long enough for some proper braids – oh, and we'll get some henna on you, too –"

Nyx shakes his head in amusement. "We'll keep an eye on him, boss," he tells Cor. "Don't worry. We're really good at playing up the stereotypical Galahd thing when we need to – no one will question our disguises."

"I hope I'm doing the right thing," Cor murmurs, looking at Hemera's now-closed door with no little anxiety. "He's so young..."

Nyx clasps his shoulder. "He's clearly coming along whether you want him to or not," he tells him. "Might as well keep him safe and close to you. Turning around now would nuke the entire mission – the Niffs know our ferry schedules, and they have eyes in Accordo."

"I know," Cor says. "That's the only reason I'm agreeing."

He reaches over and snags a sandwich that Nyx smuggled out of the buffet for later. Taking a nice, big bite, he says, "Say, do you think the buffet's still open? Prom might be hungry."

"I'll check," Nyx offers, hiding his smile. In his opinion, this mission's chances of success just went up considerably: Cor is pretty fearsome as a general rule, but in a good mood and with a kid to protect?

Gralea doesn't stand a chance.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #lunafreya nox fleuret #cor leonis #prompto argentum #nyx ulric #hemera ulric #regis lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #ignis scientia #apollonia scientia #my fic #nocturne

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rigelism-blog1 · 7 years

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Infanticide and ritual sacrifices Rigel meta (Part 1/??)

(a.k.a. the contrasting moralities between the Empire & the Jedah-Dumaism)

Other Rigelians and Dumaists, feel free to add/leave any input! ovob

[ For clarification’s sake, I’ll refer to the Duma Faithful we see and fight in game as Jedah-Dumaists (on the extreme side of the spectrum) and the {presumably) other religious end the Halcyon-Dumaism. The latter I won’t touch upon ‘til we get a specific character that may give insight on Halcyon’s side of the Faithful religion. ]

—

Infanticide has been reoccurring dating back to the formation of the Empire circa v.c. 189 (or perhaps even before then). The practice is largely rampant in high to low noble families, especially those of knights. Any time a baby was born “wrong”—either by any deformities or even the wrong sex, they are abandoned on the roadside to hunger or freeze to death, taking the responsibility and guilt of murder off the parents if left up to natural causes. High ranking houses cared and held to the belief of strong genes, thus would not accept any less of a healthy firstborn son to continue the honors of knighthood. However, in recent years, if no traces of death were evident, many babies, specifically females, vanish to Duma knows where. Locals believe they either got devoured by the night beasts or their god had somehow gone mad enough to mistake them as food offerings (...well, one isn’t far from the truth).

Family lines in other professions, such as high chefs and butlers, the imperial guard, physicians, the ruler’s vassals and diplomats, lowborn political aristocracy and court officials, et cetera, became more accepting of daughters when preference wished for first sons. It came down to the house’s pedigree and reputation rating, as sons bore more weight than daughters ever will in that society, and may still get abandoned if the husband did not accept. Rigelians are typically future-oriented and tend to carve out the least self-destructive or disgraceful path for their family. Since these families aren’t pursuing raw power of strength and will in the form of knighthood and military, they adhere by “power” through other means — strong influential power meant everything on the court (fights over politics were relentless and sometimes merciless when cracks in their influential power became apparent), physicians and clerics work tirelessly to find the strongest medicine and heal spells for the so often sick and wounded of their people, high chefs achieve the best cooking using creativity in recipes to rejuvenate the nobles’ spirits at any given meal, and so on. To sum up, competition and control for the most powerful offspring they can groom to be as great or to surpass their predecessors ran strongly in nearly every household of the upper- and upper-middle class. Daughters, on the other hand, if not abandoned, were groomed to be used as political pawns, sent to monasteries to become nursemaids or war healers, trained to become castle servants, or did housework for the noble men — they had too few choices to have much say in the matter.

In the lower/working class demographic, infanticides rarely ever happened intentionally. The commoners strive for having more hands to work the small fields and (some) crops, more assistants in running shops, manufacturing products, getting most of their food supply from hunting, and bakeries (however few), trained to become local teachers and clerics, or construction work. The sole frequent case of not keeping newborns usually end up when a family decides they have too many children to feed the entire household on a regular basis, promptly discarding any accidental additions to die on the roadside or at the foot of forests/mountains (except Fear Mountain). Of course, “too many children” is subjective and the number varies in each neighborhood of villages, the popular consensus being three to five pre-famine, then diminished to two to three during it.

In the more middle to eastern Rigel side, in contrast, the Jedah-Dumaism Faithful population’s cases of infanticide are nearly unheard of—only tossing the most severe defects to death’s embrace upon birth, deeming them worthless and nonfunctional as future workers or offerings to the god. The main rooting issue, instead, lies within neglect of their produced children. Many extreme cultists give them up to churches and priories in Rigel to be raised by others. Their offspring would either learn to be cantors, clerics, shamans, any role to utilize divine powers given to them, or held as brainwashed prisoners whose future of becoming witches awaited them.

The tricky line of moralities start to overlap on re: ritual sacrifices over children and unwilling candidates. It was bad and disgusting enough to the western Rigelians that cultists outright neglect their children—but, to use them for their own benefit and resorting to brainwashing methods rather than aiding their children to live as their own overstepped boundaries and caused rifts in the country. The so-called cultivation of “soul hunting” as they named the Jedah-Dumaists’ ritualistic practices were frowned upon in general (mainly fearing otherworldly magic itself) - the exploits of harvested children to teens to non-consenting captured adults for sole sacrifice purposes were a scandal among the court and citizens. Prior to this, Jedah already secured himself a position as the Emperor’s advisor—thus no solid laws were passed to prevent horrific measures. (...But favorability wars between the Duma Faithful and the Empire’s court is going to a different post for another day.)

To stay in the best of terms with neighboring Rigelians and the Empire’s royal court, the cultists turned to manipulation, furthering more “education” of the younger generation. They found loopholes around the core of what angers the western population by keeping such religious rituals in the dark—intentionally abandoning their kids and manipulating them in certain ways to lead them back to their parents on their own once old enough to leave the “nest”. The blatant witchdom and kidnapping, however, did not cease, as they only worsened up to the story events of FE15, as seen with the usage of the Sylvan Shrine having connections to Nuibaba’s Abode from the prisoner’s sub-quest.

#fe15 spoilers ish #headcanons ;#/ this has been on my mind for some time so I'm ready to kick it out of my system #/ (now i can work on with my mind put to...rest)

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tylerhoechlns · 7 years

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Sterek Recs: Bookmarked (1/?)

I’ve been lacking with my posts, specifically my sterek recs, so I decided I should post all 1,163 (and counting) fics that I have bookmarked on AO3 into a few separate posts.

WARNING: I have been bookmarking almost every sterek fic I have ever read since the summer of 2015. Some of these fics may include side pairings or briefly include Derek and/or Stiles with someone else. I tried to add some tags and warnings here but PLEASE read the tags and or warnings on the fic itself if this is something you do not like. All of these fics are completed.

How to Win an Argument Without Really Trying by sffan (Explicit - 2.2k)

It started with a kiss.

Well, actually, it started with an argument.

— Tags and Warnings: Underage, First Time, Porn Without Plot

Blushing Pretty by the_deep_magic (Explicit - 3.2k)

Tonight’s the rare occasion when he gets to take Stiles apart, piece by piece, and Stiles – annoying, mouthy, brilliant, gorgeous Stiles – lets him.

— Tags and Warnings: Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Light BDSM

🔒 The One In Which Derek's Dick Disappears by bleep0bleep (Explicit - 3.3k)

Derek wakes up one afternoon without a particular appendage.

Stiles thinks someone left a very realistic looking dildo in his bed.

— Tags and Warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent, Public Sex, Telepathic Sex

Muffins As A Declaration Of Intent by JenNova (Explicit - 3.7k)

“Top or bottom?” Stiles asks, off to Derek's right.

“Bottom,” Derek says automatically, not really looking at him. “Wait, what?”

— Tags and Warnings: Porn Without Plot

Stiles, why is Derek Hale passed out on our front porch? by marguerite_26, mothlights (Explicit, 4.4k)

Stiles doesn't hear the knock on his front door, but he figures there must have been one, because now his dad's calling out to him,

"Stiles, do you know why Derek Hale just passed out on our front porch?"

Stiles freezes, carton of milk half way to his mouth. He looks around the empty room, wondering if it has any answers. Derek Hale just passed out on his front porch -- sounds like one of the signs of the coming apocalypse.

— Tags and Warnings: Spark Stiles, Magical Bond, Hurt/Comfort

With Warmest Regards (Affectionately Yours) by asocialfauxpas (fuzzytomato) (Mature - 5.9k)

House Hale and House Stilinski form an alliance through the betrothal of Prince Derek and Prince Stiles. Having only met once before, they write letters to get to know one another.

— Tags and Warnings: AU: Royalty, Alive Hale Family, background/side pairings.

Intro To Art For NonMajors by otatop (N/A - 13k)

Derek has one more class to pass before he can finish his degree but he can't bring himself to give a shit about art. He can, however, give a shit about his professor.

— Tags and Warnings: AU: University, Student!Derek/Teacher!Stiles, Artist!Stiles

an exaltation of larks by llassah (Explicit - 25k)

There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

— Tags and Warnings: AU: Historical, AU: Werewolves are Known, AU: Medievalesque Omega!Stiles, Alpha!Derek, Non-Graphic Torture, Mutual Pining

Nothing Short Of Perfect by GotTheSilver (Explicit, 27k)

In which Derek and Stiles are made aware of their potential and have to make a choice about what their relationship will be.

“Let me get this straight,” his dad says. “You’re telling me a witch told Derek and yourself that you could be destined to be together and now Derek will be going to college with you?”

Stiles shrugs, resting his hands on his legs to stop himself from fidgeting. “That’s about it, yep.”

— Tags and Warnings: University, Soul bonds, Getting Together.

By Any Other Name by entanglednow (Explicit - 33K)

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

— Tags and Warnings: Angst, Amnesia, Violence

Strike Softly (Away From The Body) by qhuinn (tekla) (Explicit - 34k)

Derek is a bodyguard and Stiles his spoiled, resistant client.

— Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers

The Worst Thing I Ever Did by RemainNameless (Explicit, 41k)

Stiles would say his relationship with Derek is about fifteen percent empty threats, thirty percent sass, ten percent avoiding violence together, and five percent eyebrows. If anyone asked, he would say the remaining forty percent is mutual orgasms.

It’s a good thing no one ever asks.

— Tags and Warning: AU: Canon Divergence, post 3x03, Underage, Canon Typical Violence, Porn With Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Dubious Consent, D/s themes, Non-Negotiated Kink

Traces by standinginanicedress (Explicit - 44k)

Derek snaps his fingers and glares into Stiles' eyes. “You say you're not the same, but – there you fucking go, acting just like yourself.”

Stiles bristles. “Oh, right. Because you know me so fucking well, don't you?”

“Better than you seem to think,” he mutters under his breath in response, and Stiles gets even more incensed.

“Pushing me up against walls, shoving my head into steering wheels,” he shrugs his shoulders, glares, “some real heart to hearts we've had!”

“Holding me up in eight feet of water when I was paralyzed, nearly cutting my arm off for me to save my life. Doesn't seem so fucking shallow to me, Stiles.”

— Tags and Warnings: Underage (17), Angst, Body Dysmorphia, PTSD, Kate Argent

our lives are changing lanes by grimm (Explicit - 47k)

There's a lot of screaming going on inside the first house Stiles visits. He isn't really worried, because it sounds like kids, but then the door opens and hi, says his dick, because the dude in front of him is gorgeous, built like a god with a face like thunder. Stiles wants to lick that solid jaw line. Hold the fuck on, says his cop brain, because the dude's got kids hanging all over him; one's on his back, skinny legs looped around his waist, and another two hanging off one arm, toes barely brushing the ground. There's a tubby toddler clinging to his leg like a koala, and he's got a baby tucked into the crook of the one arm that doesn’t have kids hanging off it. Stiles' mouth drops open.

"How many of those kids did you kidnap?" he asks before he can wrangle his brain into submission.

The man gives him a look that says what the fuck is wrong with you and snaps, "You think I'd subject myself to this on purpose?"

"Oooh," says one of the kids hanging off his arm. "I'm telling Mom."

— Tags and Warnings: AU: Werewolves Are Known, Deputy!Stiles, Single Parent Derek, Past Kate/Derek

☆ Sense of Home by siny (Explicit - 53k)

Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.

After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

— Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Major (Fake) Character Death, Angst, Slow Build, First Time, Happy Ending, Background/Side pairings.

Move A Mountain by ZainClaw (Explicit - 69k)

Stiles goes camping with his friends in New Mexico after graduation where they befriend a biker gang led by Derek: a guy whom Stiles can’t decide if he will be either relieved or devastated to never see again once their week is up.

— Tags and Warnings: Smut, Angst, Biker!Derek, background/side pairings

Occam's Razor by MissAnnThropic (Explicit - 74k)

When Stiles goes to sleep, he’s a junior in high school. He wakes up in a world where he’s twenty-four and married to Derek Hale. Stiles just can’t seem to catch a break.

— Tags and Warnings: Angst

☆ Cornerstone by Vendelin (Explicit - 83k)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

— Tags and Warnings: Blind!Stiles, Marine!Derek, PTSD

☆ No Homo by RemainNameless (Explicit - 84k)

Stiles' sophomore year starts something like this: 3 FourLokos + 1 peer-pressuring cat - 1 best bro to end all best bros = 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads "str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic". Derek is the fool who replies.

— Tags and Warnings: AU: University, Internalized Homophobia, Recreational Drug Use (Marijuana), Alcohol, Lots of Safe and Unsafe Sex

🔒 Shatterproof by pyes (Explicit - 90k)

The first time that Derek kisses Stiles, they're in the Jeep—which is sideways—while they're trapped in an overpass collapse.

It's the second time when things really get scary.

— Tags and Warnings: Post 3b Pack, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Canon Typical Violence/Gore.

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter (Explicit - 127k)

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

— Tags and Warnings: Underage, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Death, Pack Feels, Abduction, Threats of Rape/Non-Con

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter (Explicit - 131k)

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

— Tags and Warnings: Underage, Feral!Stiles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background/Side pairings. Fics 2&3 of sterek aren’t majority about Sterek.

#sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fic #sterek rec #eternalsterek #my rec #eternal sterek

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ageeksnerdyworld · 7 years

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I felt like making a comprised list of all my WIPs and/or abandoned WIPs for literally no reason. Titles, for those that have ‘em, are in parentheses at end of description.

A doctor, living in New York, tries to cure his best friend’s brain cancer only to turn him into a zombie. Outbreak ensues and doc becomes a zombie hunter. Kills his friend but not before he’s bitten by members of the hoard. Fights the virus and runs away to Siberia to hide out. Years later he gets visited by a historian who was studying the outbreak. Wrecked with guilt he tells historian the story only to break and devour him. Side note: this was actually the first story idea I ever had.

A teenage boy gets wrongfully framed for the murders of a family on his block. Gets convicted and goes to a maximum security juvenile detention center. The detention center is essentially an Alcatraz for kids. He befriends some other kids who were also wrongfully imprisoned. But the eldest boy is due to be transferred to an adult prison so they plan to escape. But with an abusive and overbearing warden who watches thier every move is an escape even possible? (Maximum Security)

A mild-mannered accountant with a crappy life befriends his new neighbors who just moved in across the street. But something is a little off about the family. They’re too chipper, too nice, too perfect. Finds out the father is a serial killer and killed the real father of that family before taking his place. Killer abducts him when he finds out and holds him hostage as killer tries to make him see his, the killer’s, side. (The Grass Is Always Greener)

A retired black cop, a Hispanic disabled teen, a genderfluid black sheep, a closeted lesbian, and an elderly immigrant are all your average bystander. Until they’re all in the same freak accident. Each one of them dies for a couple minutes but is revived at the hospital. Over a month or so they start to develop superpowers. Coming together to figure out what’s going on they are forced to team up when a villain comes to town. (The Bystander Effect)

A boy who can shapeshift must journey to a distant land in search of his father. He crosses into different lands with people with different abilities. Shifters, like him, Pyros, who can create and manipulate fire, Aquas, who create and manipulate water, Electros, who create and manipulate electricity, and Controllers. But when he finds his father he’s too late to save him from the evil clutches of the Controllers. Side note: this was actually intended to be a series. (The Jason Argus Chronicles)

A set of fraternal twins have been born and bred as a two-person government task force due to thier special psychic abilities. The girl grew up cold, hard and ruthless; making her the favorite of those in charge. Meanwhile the boy was reluctant, and wary. He escapes the facility that holds them and his sister is sent to track him down by any means necessary. (The Gemini Project)

Jack Sharpe finds out his father is a serial killer. Despite being seen as an accomplice he testifies on his father’s behalf. But the man is still convicted and sentenced to death. Jack goes into witness protection and also goes to court ordered therapy. Under a new name and starting a new life he tries to put all that behind him. But he can’t shake his father’s voice, and his violent thoughts, from his head. (Just Like You)

An outcast teen wanders in the woods behind the school after getting beat up by some other kids. He stumbles upon other outcasts as he walks. They talk and walk and spend a little too much time in the woods. Just as they’re about to leave they stumble upon the dead body of the school’s star quarterback. Getting framed by the student body for the murder they decide to solve the case. (Band of Brothers)

In a fully digitized world life-changing virtual reality is in fact a reality. What started as a luxury for the mega rich is now available for the everyday citizen. Life changing because anything you do with the headsets on actually correlates to real life. But Veronica Harding feels fishy about the VR headsets. The more they grow in popularity the more problems she sees with them. Then her friends, and family, start buying into the fad. Seeing the true intent behind them Veronica sets out to take down the corporation that created them.

Security robots have become a thing of the present. With AI that senses any changes in mood and can adapt to calm the situation they’re a force of protection. But secret nanobots have been built in with an unknown purpose. When Anthea Roberts discovers their real purpose can she, with the help of her high school teachers, save her family and friends? Or is she too late?

As a government spy Bravo spends his days obeying orders of his handler and leading a team of other operatives like him. Everyday is the exact same as the day before even though he can’t remember most of them. A price he has to pay to do the work he does. But one day Bravo gets abducted by a mysterious man claiming to be Alfa; the legendary operative who somehow escaped the organization they work for. Alfa claims that the organization is lying to everyone about many things; the operatives’ pasts, memories being destroyed, and the real purpose of thier jobs. He tries to convince Bravo to destroy the organization from the inside. But is Alfa telling the truth? Can anything be trusted? (The Forgotten)

A young princess is forced to run from her kingdom when the citizens revolt. The king and queen are brutally murdered in front of her and she barely escapes with her life. She spends years of her life hiding from those who want her dead but learns that the revolt was caused by an evil witch. Vowing revenge on the witch responsible she searches for the legendary Lost Knight, a knight turned rogue, to ask for his help. Gathering together a bunch of other misfit people, including a half-elf, an orc and a drunken wizard, they make thier way back to the kingdom. But will they be strong enough to defeat the witch? (Lost And Found)

Starchasers dedicate years of thier lives to exploring the vast expanses of space. Most days are rather boring and routine checks of already cataloged planets. Or reporting on stars that have died. But some days they come across smugglers and space pirates. Or the occasional Fraell warship. Until one day the crew of the SS Tyson comes across something unimaginable. A distress beacon coming from a planet that was long dead. A planet that was burned alive by it’s own core.

A Viking leader’s kingdom is attacked by a group of Saxons claiming to spread Christianity. Despite his, and his warriors’, efforts thier village is destroyed. Many innocents die, crops are stolen, thralls are kidnapped, and the king’s wife and child are murdered. And he is forced to watch this all unfold. Then the Saxons set houses on fire and leave. The citizens go about rebuilding their village but the king is set on having his revenge. (Stoic Mind/Bleeding Heart)

Seven college kids kick off thier summer vacation with an end of the year party. Everything goes well and they say thier goodbyes. A few days later they all start to fall ill; deathly so. But then whatever sickness they had is suddenly gone a few days later with no after effects. Then they all start to notice they have developed strange abilities. Henry Harker can control minds. Cassandra Langley emits pheromones. Terry Singer controls fire. Killian O'Connor has super strength. Victor Park has minimal foresight. Jackson Thomas can create small bursts of light. And Wendy Dekker shapeshifts. Over the summer they develop thier powers in secret and start to help people. But soon the gang slowly turns on Wendy. They say her powers are too unpredictable and dangerous. She’s kicked out of the group and accidentally shapeshifts inside a crowded shopping mall; killing a few innocents. Labeled a villain by the media, and her old friends, Wendy decides to show them just how villainous she can be. Ends with a five/ten year timeskip. (Living Up To Labels)

Detective Nicholas Young has been on the case of a serial killer for the majority of his career. And nearing the age to retire he’s more determined than ever to solve the case. But in his last few months on the force he’s assigned a new partner. Usually the force gives about to retire cops and detectives less casework but they’ve had budget cuts and an influx of odd murders. Crimes linked by only one thing; a small black symbol found at each crime scene. Nicholas’ partner, Blake Jacobs, is fresh out of the academy and more than eager to catch criminals. But Blake seems to have some sixth sense or to know more about the crimes than he lets on. Eventually Blake lets Nicholas in on his secret weapon; he can telepathically connect to the dead. Can Nicholas solve the murders, and the case that haunts him like a ghost, with Blake’s help? Or is Blake hiding even more secrets? (Death Detective)

Journalist Vanessa Reynolds goes deep undercover into a non profit organization that provides food for the homeless to prove claims of child labor. But what she finds is even worse. Marcus Wheeler, self-made billionaire and philanthropist, is running all his businesses to cover up a cult. The eco-friendly self-sustaining community he created worships him as a God and he wouldn't have it any other way. Just as Vanessa discovers the truth she tries to make a break for it. But she's overtaken by Wheeler's acolytes. Now that she knows the truth he can't allow her to leave. And to make matters worse he's had his heart set on marrying Vanessa from the moment they met. And he's determined to make that fantasy a reality by any means necessary.

#i just #i have so many ideas #too many some might say #but not enough talent #my wips #wips #story ideas #story wip #writing wips #ugh #i wish i could actually write these

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