#katt writes stuff

[inktail]

Okay, I'm curious... for the WIP ask meme, I'd love to know more about "Woof" because that is incredibly vague XD

It's ummm

Yeah. It's Woof ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I am open to suggestions

In which Prompto, Gladio, and Noctis encounter a werewolf in the park and I get to explore Prompto keeping his new lycanthropy a secret while the city guard is on a witch wolf hunt for the feral animal haunting the suburbs.

[inktail]

Heads Up 7-Up

I’ve been tagged by @avianscribe to share 7 sentences from my wips! In no particular order, from various part-time projects; 

“What the shit is that,” one human says, his voice coarse, “sure doesn't look like any deamon I've seen, and I ain't killing no one’s pet.”

[Noctis] kneels at the feet of the king, looks up into his eyes, and reminds himself to breathe.

Prompto doesn't want to finish his thought from earlier, doesn't want Noctis to ask about what he has to be sorry about, if he’s not so upset by Saturday that he’s here and giving Prompto a second chance.

“Don’t do that,” Verum calls, “you’ll go blind.”

"This is a bad idea," he says, as if hearing it out loud will imbibe him with the good sense he's often told he lacks

"I'm not… selling the frog."

She smiles and bats her lashes, and Noctis, still two steps behind what’s going on, meets the crownguard’s eye with his mouth hanging open, unsure what to say.

I’ll pop thumbs on @joaniam @obstinate-nocturna and @riotbrrrd

[inktail]

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

You Filled Me Up With Your Hate (3202 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Ardyn Izunia Additional Tags: really low key promtio, MT Prompto, Daemon Prompto, Mind Control, Whump, Body Horror, starscourge, Dark fic, a heartfelt attempt at blending shock and starscourge, ardyn is a putrid sack of rotting swollen dicks and is just too fun to write, no happy endding

Summary: Reason number one why we don't use starscourge as a band aide; it's multitude of side effects include turning the afflicted into blood thirsty monsters of shadow.

[inktail]

Pain :)

Going directly for the angst arent ya? I got 2 results:

The Tale of Verum Rex

By midday the pulsations throb in time to the shivering barrier overhead, and Noctis, thinking it a trick of the pain making his vision swim, crawls back into his "bed" to bury his face in pillowed laundry.

Woof

His every nerve reporting pain, a hundred thousand distress signals shooting through him from tooth to toenail

Send me a word and I’ll share a sentence from my WIPs, if I used it.

[inktail]

Just an outline, I don't need an entire fic: concept of familial confessions for the chocobros

Step one ‘write an outline’ failed. Step two ‘write a minific’ also failed. But it’s my bedtime, so i’m off the hook.//

Gladio normalizes it first.

It takes a few years, a few positive interactions between them, and a several smeller test phrases before he drops it, all casual, after a particularly well executed set of offensive exercises. 

“Great job today, Noct,” he beams with all his teeth and holds out both palms to the prince for a low ten. “I love you, yeah? Go hit the showers, you earned a long one.” Noct has taken four steps toward the lockers before he processes the line.  

The exhilarated flush in Gladio’s cheeks is so worth the dumbfounded look on the kid’s face. Gladio just jerks his chin to tell him to keep moving before he turns on his heel to clean up their equipment.

—

To Prompto it’s practically an accident. They’re playing in co-op mode. Both of them are haunching heavily enough over their phones to make a chiropractor cry, shoulders strung tenser than piano strings. Their thumbs tap and swipe over the glass screens fast enough to blur.

The apartment’s uncharacteristic quiet is broken only for the occasional hiss when someone takes a hit they cant afford, or the whispered ‘all right’s when the valor-mode dungeon keeper finally breaks it’s OP defense long enough to take a hit. Prompto starts whining under his breath, come one come on, as the HP bar creeps lower and lower, finally green, fading yellow, into red until suddenly both phones vibrate in tandem, synched to the shakey animation of the final dungeon keeper’s demise.

The boys explode into motion and noise and celebration. Noctis finally lets out the breath he’s been holding. Prompto jumps to his feet, hands in the air, head thrown back as he whoops and hollers to drown out the princes relieved laughter. “We did it, Noct! Look at this, we finally, actually did it!” He lifts his phone up, a celebratory toast to something holy while Noctis twists his shoulders and stretches his back, his cheek-tearing grin feeling permanent on his face. They’d been working at that for hours, days– three weekends it’s taken. And it finally paid off!

“Ahh-ha-ha-YEAH” Prom’s still cheering, the thrill of victory still riding through him, “WOOHOO! Oh my stars, Noct, can you believe it? I love you man, I love this! WE DID IT!!” Noctis whips his face up to gape at his best friend, but Prom barely seems to realize what he’s said, the way he’s still cheering, spinning in circles and pumping his fists. Noct’s face cracks again into something softer this time and he celebrates a second, smaller victory in the shadow of their digital triumph.

He tucks this feeling up tight against his heart, where it can live as long as they’re together.

—

you want an outline? here’s your outline. Ignis’s part would delve into his service history with noctis, the thing he does that aren’t in his job description. Things he does because Noct is his brother-friend, and Ignis loves nothign more than seeing him smile. They’ve been at each other’s side’s for so long that neither even thinks about needing to say “Hey, I love you buddy,” to the other until Ignis hears Prompto do it in farewell one evening. And perfectionist that he is, he must of course wait for or fabricate the perfect moment. Perhaps noctis’s birthday. And for Noct, I gotta bring up the last campfire. It’s the rules. It’ll be his only chance to say he loves them too, his last chance to let them know he really does care deeply about them after all this time. He’ll think about Cid’s corny “go get ‘em” speech, the one where he reminds Noct that his friends are more than just his indentured servants. They can leave anytime they want by now, and they dont. They stay for him, because they wuv him and he wuvs them twoooo. 

[inktail]

#7 “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” ooooor #82 “I’m not your boss? Well then who is?” Writer's choice for fandom!

the inspiration was immediate, for #82

“Prompto, put that down.” Exasperated, and only a little panicked, the prince turns to his friend, ready to knock the severed MT arm from his hands lest he set it off on accident.

Prompto, who’s squatting on the ground next to a “dead” MT, holds the arm away from Noct’s reaching hands. He sticks out his tongue. “Mmnnh, you’re not the boss of me,” he says before his shit-eating grin cracks his face in two. He turns back to fiddling with the mechanisms in the things wrist while Noctis watches with abject horror.

He’s been on the receiving end of that thing too many times to be comfortable right now. 

After just a moment too long of awkward pause, he scoffs, failing at nonchalance. “Pfft, well, if I’m not your boss, then who is?”

Prompto pauses his studying again, cocking his head to the side. “I mean, Ignis does all the money stuff, so technically he pays me,” he gestures out with the disembodied arm, towards where Ignis and Gladio are huddled together on the other side of the road. “But The Big Guy makes most of the real decisions. So, you know.” He shrugs. “Not you.”

Prompto turns to give the other boy a good natured nudge. They both know he’s only teasing. But the look on Noct’s face is so offended, so betrayed! Prompto can’t help his ugly laughter, or the way he naturally curls in on his stomach.

Laughter cuts off with a squawk as Prompto is thrown off balance by the force of the arm-lance activating in his hands. The magic-sucking blades flop out onto the hot pavement several paces away, with all the climax of a new year confetti popper.

This time he does set it down, when Noctis shouts for him to drop it.

>Send me a drabble prompt<

[wanderingtendril]

((survivor!au thinking dora and mar are flipping red - and finding out that mar is flushed for rue and pale for dora))

They’ve been through two quadrants already. It seemed, from the outside anyway, that moirallegiance was working for them.

Perhaps not.

No romance you’ve observed has been perfectly within the perimeters set by educational ledgers you’re all fed as wigglers, but the look in his eyes strikes you as excessive. And unfair.

Unfairly excessive.

You wonder if you’re the only one noticing the want in his expression when she leaves his side to greet you, or how he pouts like an infant bark beast who wanted more than the pat on the head he got as hello when you and Dora return from scavenging with Jaycee (no that look does not break your heart not at all). But maybe you simply pay him more attention than you really ought to.

It doesn’t occur to you until much later, and after a bit of nudging from Dora, that maybe those looks are aimed at you.

[wanderingtendril]

rue and ardmes talkng about mar

Oh shit.

WT: why must yoou antagoonize him?

You’re in trouble.

PB: I’M not antagonizing anyone.

You look back to your browser, and consider removing half of your last message. It probably wasn’t entirely necessary to bring that up.

WT: and yet here he is, pissed ooff and clearly antagoonized

What? Ah shit, did he reply already? Damn, he’s fast. You close the the half edited post with an irritated growl, and go to see what the bastard said and … ugh.

PB: I’M not antagonizing hiM, I’M just desensitizing hiM to My abrasive charMs. WT: can yoou noot WT: yoou’re upetting him and i’m starting too feel respoonsible foor yoour shit

Oh.

PB: …What Would you prefer I say?WT: i suggest an apooloogy

Ha, nope. Not happening. Instead you refresh, hoping for a distraction. You don’t like Marduk. You don’t want to like him. You don’t owe him an apology, and he certainly doesn’t deserve one.

Thankfully, Criinas moirail has provided the perfect opportunity to redirect to your date tonight, and you latch on to it with both hands.

~o0+0o~

Ellie comes to you a few nights later. You’re sprawled over the couch, watching Molley and Ghamby rant about another hole in the Fence when she plucks your tablet away. It disappears into her dex and you find yourself with a lap full of moirail. She slips her arms around your neck, cradling your head in her arms and kneads at your horn beds.

You curl your arms around her waist and snuggle while she rubs away the ache chewing on the edges of your sanity, before she rests her forehead against yours and sighs. “We need to talk.” Her expression is serious, but her eyes express concern.

“Pile talk, or just a talk?”

“Just a talk.” You nod, but she’s still quiet for a long moment, before asking the only question you don’t want to deal with right now.“What’s your deal with Marduk?”

Your arms fall from her waist as you throw your head back and groan. “How many times do I have to hear that before someone accepts the answer?”

Hands sliding against your cheeks, she pulls your head back down, forcing you to meet her gaze again. “As soon as you provide an answer I find satisfying. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just don’t like him.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“‘Because’ isn’t a satisfactory answer. Try again.”

“Aghhh. Because. Just. Because. Because he upsets you, and I don’t like it. I don’t like him.” You don’t mean to whine like wiggler but you’re so Done with this question after the other day.

“He doesn’t upset me.”

“But he did upset you. Several times,” you protest, still clearly remembering the hurt in her words over a video feed not so long ago. “I don’t like that.” She stares at you with disapproval, and you grimace. You don’t want Ellie upset. Not by others, or at others, and especially not with you.

“Ardmes, sugar, star of my heart, I love you, but boy, you can be dense.” You harumph, but her tone softens and she sits back on your knees. “Marduk is my matesprit. I love him, and he makes me happy, not upset. And if he does upset me, he apologizes and tries to make it up somehow. Even when he doesn’t have to.” She smiles and plays with your hair as she speaks, gentle and oozing so much fondness you think maybe you should have insisted on the pile. “Do you believe that?”

There’s a strange feeling in your chest. Indignation, it feels like. Indignation at the unfairity of how easily she irons out your argument. As much as you don’t want to, you have to agree.

“Then why don’t you like him?”

“I don’t know, Ellie,” you groan. “I don’t want to like him. I don’t trust him, I don’t know him.” Grumbling, your horn brushes her face as you lean against her shoulder and she wraps you in a hug.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect you to like him like I do, and I can’t make you like him at all. I want you to recognize that he is important to me. But, like. Gods, I don’t even know how to say this.” She pauses to think. “I like Cairro,” she says, leaving you confused. Your matesprit is not the issue here. “She’s one of my closest friends. I like Dora, too. Crii is in good spirits with Roz’s matesprit just like Roz is friendly with Captain Zahhak, you know? Inclades are supposed to be special. A different kind of relationship built on trusting someone else with your clade because they are also clade. But, Mar. He doesn’t like The Helmsman, doesn’t trust his motives, and while I don’t blame him for that because The Helmsman is a frightening troll, I don’t think he trusts Lady Pyrope with Dora either. There’s a special kind of happiness to having inclade that Mar is very much missing out on.

“I get that you don’t trust him, and I suppose that’s my own fault. You never got to meet him except through me and I only ever reported the bad things. Sorry, love,” Ellie sighs. “I probably sound ridiculous, but I want that for him. I want that kind of happiness to at least be available him. I can’t make you like him, and I certainly can’t make him like you, but can I ask you to play nice?” 

She makes perfect sense, you will admit. You used to marvel at how well Ellie and Cai got along before you learned that it was completely normal. But something still bugs you about what she’s saying.

"Why do you think me not snarking at him is going to bring him any amount of happiness? Isn’t it you who should be trying to bring him happiness on your own, not through a quadrant corner like me?" Her face colors slightly, and she stares into her lap instead of into your face as she had been. She hesitates to speak, so you pap her face a little. What the hell, this couch is now a pile. What ever.

"… I’m scared, Ardmes. Dora said he just, just left. Easy as you please. What if he decides putting up with you isn’t… worth having me for a matesprit?" She slumps into you, dejection weighing on her words and putting a lump in your throat. You can’t stand the twinge in her voice, a mix of fear and sadness that makes your blood boil and your ears burn.

"Then he’s even worse than I thought, letting someone else’s actions make decisions about his quadrants. If he dumps you over me, I’ll make him regret it Ellie. I will." Growling, you cling possessively to your moirail.

"Don’t you even dare," she growls right back, but kisses your cheek. "Quit pissing him off, Ardmes, that’s all I ask. No hypothetical revenge for my ridiculous insecurities, just sensor your abrasive charms a little. Or accept that he doesn’t aim to find new and exciting ways to upset me, so that you may continue being your fabulous self."

"Fine, I’ll try," earns you another kiss before she grins and gives you back your tablet.

Ghamby and Molley didn’t even realize you were gone.