#mumsthewcrd

[knightxalpha]

QUICK SAY THE CATCH PHRASE WE’RE LOSING THEM

LoudAnnoying Twitch Stream Sentence Starters | @mumsthewcrd

                          “May the Force be with you.”

[codeprint]

five times kissed // (How could I resist?)

prewarning: i am Bad at writing fanfic ship stuff BE WARNED

i.

The first thing he notices about Noctis’ friend is his eyes. The kind of sharp, piercing eyes that cut through a facade and see the truth at the core of a person’s soul. Noctis shoulders off his bag with a harrumph and scarcely pays him any mind, but Prompto can’t tear his eyes away. Fearing that if he blinks, this thin ruse will be undone and every guilty thought he’s ever had will be lain out for all to see.

Instead, though, the bespectacled man sighs and asks the Prince to kindly remove his feet from the table. 

“Ignis, Prompto. Prompto, Ignis.” Noctis waves a hand between them, the best introduction they’re going to get.

“P-pleasure to meet you, sir!” he sticks his hand out for a shake, barely curbing the urge to salute. Ignis chuckles, extending his hand as well and giving a formal shake.

The easy acceptance feels like coming home.

The ease in which they settle into a routine would be unnerving if it didn’t feel so natural. Before long it’s not just him and Noctis curled in front of his tiny tube TV, it’s the four of them crowded around Noctis’ flatscreen shouting at the screen and each  other. It’s their layers being peeled back, walls crumbling, until they’re just four teenagers squabbling over what movie to watch or who really won that round of Tekken.

And at the end of the night, Gladio and Noctis fall asleep first. Ignis gets up to clean and Prompto usually follows suit, making soft conversation so as not to rouse their friends. Without thinking he takes a sip from a glass - only to rear back and cough, spluttering when seven up ends up being sparkling water. Ignis has realized the error at the same moment, brow furrowed but deducing far faster where the error was.

“Oh… guess that was your glass.” He extends it out. Takes it in turn.

The rim is still warm with the touch of the other’s lips.

ii.

At Noctis’ nineteenth birthday, they go a little wild. A little off the rails. Gladiolus is full of excitement and it’s the best bar in town and only the best bar that they head for that night. Something upscale and classy, which even three years later still makes Prompto feel like an imposter when he steps through the door in tailored clothing bought on someone else’s dime.

It’s a party and he’s never been to one before. Not like this. Everyone is out in droves to celebrate the Prince coming of legal drinking age, and Prompto can only muster his party-boy persona for so long. A girl asks him to dance and he declines, panicking. And It’s with reluctance and relief that he excuses himself from Noctis’ side and instead heads to the balcony for fresh air, stumbling and weaving his way through the crowd. 

He’s not drunk. Not yet. Just jittery and anxious and in desperate need of air and space.

A familiar face greets him out there. Ignis turns in surprise as he bursts out of the music and dancing and into the starry night, flustered and flushed from alcohol and embarrassment. He makes an excuse - too hot in there - but it’s flimsy and his friend sees through it instantly.

Eventually Ignis pries the truth out of him.

“I can’t dance.”

And he can tell the laugh that follows is more out of the sheer ridiculousness of the confession than it is any kind of  malice and mockery. Prompto has never had any qualms about busting an ill-conceived move on the dance floor, but he protests.

“Iggy, come on! Don’t be a jerk! Not all of us had the big, classy family to learn the finery of high living from, alright? I’m not equipped to deal with high society orbiting!”

“It’s simple. Come, let me show you.”

His hands are at his hip, threaded through his hand. Ignis walks them through the steps one two three one two three but his mind isn’t on the dancing. They’re so close he can feel the warmth radiating off of his chest, see the amused sparkle in his eyes behind the glasses…

When their lips meet, Prompto jolts back as if shocked. The apologies are instant, I had too much to drink! Hahaha, sorry man! and he doesn’t look at the other’s face, just pulls back and grasps the railing as he tries to talk it all away.

He never notices the disappointed look in the other’s eyes. And, ever the gentleman, Ignis never mentions it again.

iii.

They’re both on watch for the night. Behind them, tent walls rumble with snores and dreamy murmurs. Prompto cradles his beer in his hands, mulling over uncertainties and wondering how things will end when Noctis and Lunafreya wed.

When they reach Atlissa - will he have to return to Niflheim? What need will they have for a spy when they’d already achieved what they wanted… is it possible to retire, to linger, to stay?

He’s unsure.

But Ignis is warm beside him. His eyes cast up towards the stars. A pensive look on his face, unlike any Prompto thinks he’s seen before. As the night wears on, his head begins to feel heavy. He wakes up against Ignis’ side, fingers loosely curled in the other’s jacket. Ignis’ arm is around him, his breathing deep and even.

Prompto tilts his face in closer, his kiss a mere whisper against the other’s clothed shoulder as he curls up to go back to sleep.

He’s not astute enough to notice pause in that breathing. Nor aware enough to feel the arm settle more securely around his shoulders.

iv. 

Nobody needs to ask whether or not he’s alright. The scent of blood is heavy in the air, and Prompto’s steps are hindered by the fractures in his hips from the fall off the train. Ignis’ hands are on his face, carefully and gently mapping out the damage.

For the first time since it all happened, Prompto is relieved that the other can’t see. The damage will heal, but – he’s certain he’s not much to look at any more. He starts to speak, to apologize, to accept blame - but there are lips against his and for a moment the wild panic of his betrayal, of his constant lying, of everything is forgotten. 

A kiss says it all.

Time for that later. 

He lifts both hands up to Ignis’ face, cradles it between his hands and kisses him softly. Acceptance. A promise for atonement. That they willi have time for a later despite how dire things looked now.

“Iggy, we gotta go.”

v.

He threads their fingers together, leaning against Ignis’ shoulder. 

All of them reunited, for one last time. Gladiolus teases them goodnaturedly, Noctis acclimates to the new dynamic without missing a beat, and for a moment, just for a moment they’re all back in time. Arguing, laughing, enjoying each other’s company.

Prompto tilts his head to the side and catches Ignis lips when he turns to look. Absently squeezes their joined hands, trying to find that bastion of strength thatt he other has so flawlessly maintained.

One way or another, this will be the last time.

[xnobilis-blog]

Where Evil Lives // AU

@mumsthewcrd​

Camera, check. Script, check. Files, check. Flashlight, swiss gear and a map, also check.

“Do you think it’s a hoax? Those sewer gator guys and all? I’m not really buying that they never came back from these redneck’s house” She asks, shoving all itens inside her messenger back before open the door’s car, stepping outside into the woods that surrounded the infamous Baker’s family farm. “I think they’re hanging around somewhere to come back and get famous” Illya was a bit sceptic to believe those things --  therefore perfect for the Myth Busters online show she had with her friend Ignis who always accompanied her in those little adventures to less than pleasant places. “Buuuut... while they don’t, we are the one’s who’ll get famous covering this. C’mon, it’s gonna be night soon” 

The Baker’s farm in Dulvey, Lousiana was the center of many stories told around. Urban legends about murders, kidnaps and ghost stories, all different from each other, but with the protagonists in common. “So... you wanna rehearse it while we get there or...” Her hazel eyes met Ignis’s bright green ones as they walk towards the main gate, her hand reaching to try prying it open with no success. ‘Of course... locked’ “Yeah, I don’t think we’re going this way. Let’s turn around, there must a entrance through the guest house at the left” 

How did she knew? Well, Illya was keen enough to get a satelite view of the farm first and check all the gates that surrounded it, and had the image printed with her. With a quick turn of feet, her steps are a bit more rushed than usual as she leads Ignis through the path between the woods. “Let’s see, correct me if I get anything wrong ok? Baker family: Jack, Margueritte and Lucas is their son. They are hillbillies who suddenly started kidnapping and killing people. Suspected of canibalism or whatever. This is the basics” And so they get to the end of the path, above a level that when jumping down led towards the guest house. 

“Let’s do this Iggy.”

[galahdsglaive]

Vocaroo: Since you're a Nyx rper I think it's only fitting to ask you to do the "I just came here to tell you: You are no Kings" speech. If you're up to it. (chinhands)

http://vocaroo.com/i/s0eLoYq2410N

im sorry about the audio quality. honestly i shoulda recorded this through audacity because it woulda sounded better but oh well. 

@mumsthewcrd

[xnobilis-blog]

+ @argentlined + @rexcrystallis + @mumsthewcrd

✘ – ; Panting, wounded, stumbling like a scared animal away          from a beast that once left marks on her that never healed.          With sword in hand, Illya was not one to give up easily,          she’d fight until victorious, but deep inside, she knew the odds          were not in her favor.          The coeurl dived with claws out, ready dig them down her skin,          but her mind was too tired to react promptly. The hazel hues          disappeared beneath tight lids, as the silver sword has held          towards the beast. But it was not what stopped it’s rage, something          – someone – else did.

        The young woman fell back, with a dead tired look in her eyes,         gazing over the stranger who happened to be her saviour for         the night. “Tha… that was... pretty close” she said under her breath,         falling in one knee and releasing the sword from weak hands to         assist over the wound in her mid section.         It wasn’t lethal, but wasn’t pretty either, and oh, did it hurt.

[rexcrystallis]

☱ (hope this isn't too late!)

YOUR CHARACTER HAS JUST DISCOVERED MY CHARACTER’S JOURNAL/DIARY. || NOT ACCEPTING || @mumsthewcrd

Leave a  ☱ in my askbox for an entry that’s about you.

[in Noct’s personal cipher]

I’m sorry, Iggy. I think I have never said this enough to you, but I truly am sorry. If I could I would restore your eyesight, but that ability is way beyond my measly capabilities. The masses call me many things, herald of the dawn among others, and yet I can’t give light to one person who matters to me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. 

And I’m sorry too that you can sense I’m barely hanging on as it is. If there’s one thing I’m thankful for for you not seeing-- it’s this. I don’t want you to see me fading. To see me as I crumble. That would be more than what I can bear. And though I know you can hear it, you could tell, you always could, more than Prom or Gladio, you could always tell, without me saying anything.

But I’d want  you to always remember me as you saw me last. Young, and full of life. Slogging onward...

Not this. Never this.I’m sorry.

[arachnexdragoon]

My word, is it your birthday? Happy birthday, darling! I do hope it will bring you all of the best <3! (mumsthewcrd)

Yes, it iiis! :D Thank you so much for your wishes, I hope this new stage of your life is also as exciting as it seems to be from the outside! Much love, Proto! :*

[arachnexdragoon]

❝ isn’t it strange that i know you’d risk your life to save mine , but i don’t even know what your favorite color is ? ❞ (mumsthewcrd)

Hunger Games starters

Aranea laughed; that question would havesounded odd coming from anyone else, but not from Ignis. The notion that shewould, indeed, risk her life for these people she once fought against no longerseemed that foreign to her – too many years fighting in the darkness changedher views on friendship, loyalty and allegiances. Initially, the dragoonoffered her services to the highest bidder; now, she did it for free and toensure they’d all have a future.

There was some guilt, too – she feltresponsible and the need to own up to her mistakes was strong. But no one eversaid anything about that and the animosity Lucian folk felt towards herdiminished with time and with each mission she proved herself an actualtrusted ally. The king’s friends also vouched for her – and that helped. Helpedin her transition from former imperial bitch to be feared into independentdaemon slayer to be admired.

“Well, you do know my favorite dishes,” shesaid with a smile, canting her head to the side and keeping a smile on herface - it meant she was at ease andcomfortable, a glimpse into the true Aranea rather than the warrior persona sheput up for everyone. Ignis couldn’t see that – but she suspected his keensenses were able to pick up on the change of her voice tone and the way shetouched him. The adviser was extremely intelligent – he had adapted better tothe eternal darkness than anyone could hope for, the ex-commodore included.

She swung her legs playfully over the edgeof the balcony where Lestallum’s parking lot had once been. The Disc was stillout there, hidden in the dark, but Aranea still liked to sit down there andstare into the abyss. It was a calmer part of the town, away from the hustlefrom the market and the hotel, and she often found herself there with Ignis,enjoying… Something. It had started as companionable silence, then into moreintimate talks and now it was… More.

Unlabeled as of yet, but she kept lookingforward to these meetings when they were both in town. It was easy to shed herarmor and the tough act whenever he was around and she wasn’t sure if Ignisrealized the extent of his powers over her, but she didn’t mind. Oddly enough,if there was one man she actually trusted with her life, apart from her loyalmen, this man was the blind adviser himself. How far had they walked, she mused; fromenemies to confidantes.

“I like black, wine red…” she answeredtruthfully, a hand reaching out and touching his face. He seemed surprised byit, but he didn’t move; and Aranea trailed his cheeks, moving down along hisjawline before letting go and removing her hand completely. “I also lovegreen, just especially in eye color. But you know,” she added when Ignis drewin a deeper breath, smiling at the sight even if he couldn’t see her curved lips, “I’m fond of all shades of gray, too.”

@mumsthewcrd