#conflagrate

[ohdaim]

another conflagrate wip

Ignis had a five o’clock shadow that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him just days ago.

“I like the beard. Going for a new look?”

Ignis frowned faintly. “I haven’t found the time for proper grooming. Forgive my unkempt appearance.”

“It looks nice.”

“I rather detest it.” He scratched his jaw, then stopped himself, both hands coming to his lap. They trembled, one folding over the other. So that was still happening. You wished he would mention it, share his troubles, but spared him, snapping your fingers with a sudden idea.

“I have this fancy straight razor upstairs I've never used. Let me get it.”

Ignis started, the displeasure on his face morphing into surprise. “That’s all right--”

“Too late. It’s not like I need it.”

Ignis had restarted the tea in your absence. He stood by the kettle as he accepted the razor. An uncertain, unfamiliar look came to his face, accompanied by a blush. Great. You were embarrassing him.

“The bathroom is free if you want to do it now.” You weren’t sure if you were making it better or worse. You wanted to help. Dealing with his problems seemed easier than acknowledging your own. “You’ll be miserable if you scratch at it all day.”

Ignis waved off the suggestion. “Ah, but there’s an adjustment period. I’d rather be itchy than work with nicks all over my face.”

Astrals, of course. You were going about this all wrong.

“Let me do it for you,” you said, taking the razor back before he could protest. “I have the hands of a surgeon.”

Uncertainty remained in his expression. “That isn’t reassuring.”

You repressed a smile. “Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly.”

Your budding amusement softened at his answer. “Okay. Fill a bowl with warm water. I’m getting a towel.”

[ohdaim]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 6/15 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ignis Scientia/Reader, Ignis Scientia/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Ignis Scientia, Reader, Gladiolus Amicitia, Prompto Argentum Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, World of Ruin, Post-World of Ruin, Infidelity, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Amnesia, Blind Character, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Gladio/Reader, Secrets, Depression, Mentions of Pregnancy, Intensely Requited Love, Complicated Relationships, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Discussion of Abortion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

You guided Ignis through different parts of Lucis during the years of darkness. Working together brought you close to the Hand of the King.

A shame you don't remember any of it.

[ohdaim]

Hey, guys. A slightly personal but super positive update.

Although Conflagrate isn’t on hiatus anymore, it’s not quite finished like I’d hoped it would be by now. The more I worked on it throughout this year, the more it expanded, adding scenes and chapters just to have things tie together nicely, and it’s become much more ambitious than I’d originally planned. When I realized mid-May I wasn’t writing fast enough to keep up with my ideas and promises while also maintaining the quality (which I never think is good enough, but I can’t be the only person who holds themselves to absurdly high standards), I came to a complete standstill creatively. I was paralyzed by the fear of disappointing anyone, either by taking too long to complete it or by writing a completely terrible, overthought plot. Or at worst, both.

My anxiety is typically high functioning, so when it finally crept into this particular hobby, I thought I’d power through. That has not been the case. I legit think about my dumb fanfics as much as my original writing and take ideas down when I think of them, but getting myself to actually write something other than a journal entry has been stupid difficult for the past month. And every day that passes makes me feel more guilty because I’d taken a long break already to get a huge chunk of it written. How in the hell could I already need another break after posting a single chapter?

Anyway, I’ve decided to fuck that shit and write anyway, even if I’m groaning at my own prose the entire time. Even if the romance becomes too corny. Even if the smut ends up being: Ignis gets naked. “Like what you see?” he asks shyly./ “AWOOGA.” Your eyes pop out of your head, your nose bleeds, and steam comes out of your ears. "Boioinoing nice c*ck babey."

On a serious note, though, I'm continuing even if it means I have to get rid of ideas and simplify things. Even if it does disappoint people.

Like, absolutely no one asked for this explanation (lmao), and I don’t know if anyone will read this post in full. So tl;dr I am an extremely anxious fool, but I’m not going to let that stop me from writing anymore. Look forward to an update soon! :)

Please have an awful meme under the cut for your patience! It doesn’t spoil anything at all, but it is referencing a future chapter of Conflagrate so beware of that, I guess. Thanks, guys. <3

[ohdaim]

wip

Ignis walked into the room and stopped short, heavy cloth bags hanging from an arm. “Do I smell… turmeric?”

Your face suddenly felt tight under the layer of gunk. “Probably. Sorry about that.”

He answered with a chuckle and walked past you toward the kitchen. “I’m curious, not bothered. Good afternoon, Iris.”

“Hey, Iggy.” She sat up in the armchair as soon as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, her eyes wide open now. Her voice became a loud whisper. “You gave him a key?”

You began to pick at the face mask, knowing you’d regret the mess of crumbs on the floor later. You were trying to wrap your head around him figuring out Iris’ presence without being greeted first and could only address one full thought at a time. “Yeah. He’s been helping me out.”

“He does that.” With a breathy giggle, Iris got up and took hold of your wrist to draw your hand from your face. “Let it do its magic. I’m trying to help, too, y’know.”

Relenting, you let her hold your hand and pull you along into the kitchen. You expected to see Ignis doing the usual, busying himself by moving things about your cabinets like an overbearing mother-in-law or getting ready to cook something because you can’t subsist on cup noodles alone. What you found was your spoiled cat in one of his arms as he unloaded the bag onto a counter. He was just asking for a layer of cat hair on that bespoke jacket of his.

[ohdaim]

wip wednesday

Iris leans in with a whisper, "Isn't Iggy kinda handsome when he cooks?"

You look at her, confusion budding. "Iris, he's married."

All she gives you is a shrug as she leans back. "Just an observation. You used to make those all the time."

With a frown, you watch Ignis from across the haven. The look of concentration on his face, the practiced ease of his hands while he works, they're all familiar. You look down, ready to bury your attention back into the book. Iris is right, but she doesn’t have to point it out. He’s still as attractive as you remember, but older, taken, and much more complicated. Too much for you.

Another peek at him over the frayed edges of your book, you catch him tasting something on a wooden spoon. The way his tongue slides over his upper lip while in thought-- it’s completely indecent.

“Iris.” You close the book and come to a stand, forcing your gaze downward. “You’re the worst.”

Her light laughter follows you all the way to the tent.

[ohdaim]

wip

The wound has healed so much, it itches. You graze your fingertips over the stitches delicately, then run your fingers through your hair. It ends abruptly at your shoulders, breaking your heart all over again. Gathering it all together, you tie it back and watch in the mirror as, strand by strand, it comes loose while you brush your teeth.

Future You isn’t a hat person—at least something hasn’t changed—so you tuck the flyaway hairs behind your ears and leave your bathroom without lingering on your reflection. Vanity isn’t a luxury you can afford. You grew your hair out once before, and you’ll do it again.

Talcott straightens his posture when you walk into your living room. He hasn’t stopped staring at the photos you put up. They don’t make the place feel as alive as you’d hoped, but your world is significantly less grey with them in the backdrop. You stop next to him to point at a picture.

“Do you remember that?”

Talcott nods. “I loved that day. There were so many baby chocobos.”

You looked from one photo to another. After flipping through them at length, you’d realized you’d taken them all on the same day. It had been sunny. Some sort of celebration, you think.

“Were we at that…” You chew on your lower lip and struggle to finish the thought. The chocobo place, the famous one. You know this. The name is on the tip of your tongue, the edge of your mind. “That chocobo ranch? In Duscae.”

Nice.

Talcott smiles. “Wiz’s Post, yeah.” His eyes shift upward when he looks at you, prompting you to stop almost-but-not-really touching your injury. “Today’s the big day.”

Hearing that brings forth an old image of your parents. There had been numerous Big Days back then. Today’s the big day! We’re going to uncover something that’ll change everything.

Not quite the memories you’re searching for. They leave a bitter taste. The corners of your mouth curl in a grimace that Talcott misreads.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he says, his smile disappearing. “When they take the stitches out. Just a weird tugging sensation.”

You have nothing to offer to that and realize you’re touching the injury again when he reaches up to stop you.

“Here.” He takes his hat off by its brim and places it loosely on your head. “That’ll cover it up. I’m not supposed to wear it with my uniform anyway.”

You touch the back of it, adjusting until it's comfortable. “But you always wear it.”

Talcott begins to usher you toward the door. “I didn’t used to. Ignis has been lenient lately.”

You slip into your shoes, not ready to face the world just yet. “How would he know? It’s not like he can see it.”

Talcott waits by the door, relaxed again. He’s showing far too much familiarity, although you appreciate the hat more than you’ll ever say.

“Trust me, he knows.”

[magicjudge]

what is conflagrate's cmc on the stack if it's flashed back by discarding, say, 3 cards? (wondering if chalice of the void is as good against dredge as i want it to be)

Conflagrate’s CMC is 7 in this scenario.

When you pay Conflagrate’s flashback cost to cast it, the value for X (i.e. the number of cards you discard to cast it) gets plugged into it’s mana cost if anything needs to know its converted mana cost. Since you discarded 3 cards, X is 3 and thus Conflagrate’s mana cost is 3+3+R.

[ohdaim]

hey anon, i’m sorry i won’t be answering the ask directly. the reason for that is you are somewhat close about one thing and bring up valid points that i promise will be addressed in the future. i won’t say which thing you’re close on, but thank you for making a guess! i really love that! haha

i can’t express how much i appreciate you letting me know you enjoy what i’m working on <3