nyardynn

[nyardynn]

You are the hole in my head You are the space in my bed You are the silence in between What I thought and what I said

You are the night-time fear You are the morning when it’s clear When it’s over you’ll start You’re my head, you’re my heart’

B-day gift for my best friend, my partner in crime, life and love, a great artist and storyteller and my favourite person in the world. Happy birthday, Mort! <3

Also happy birthday, Ignis!

[nyardynn]

Hear me out.. this is actually what happens. Trauma creates a line of negative responses and associations. If you break the line, the whole thing dissolves. That's why - when I was sad how I had so much shit to do and thought I'd never finish in a lifetime - my therapist told me "don't give up so fast." This is rather 3 big things in a trenchcoat.

I think when you correctly identify a trauma that is the base of a woe of yours it should just disappear. It should be like "aaahh. you got me" and vanish and leave 100 dollars behind

[nyardynn]

What a juicy piece. 👀

I like how Ardyn is serious about this despite being lonely himself: that Prompto's asking the wrong person for healing and having any kind of relationship, even a truce, isn't gonna be good for him... I'm sceptical about that. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. The way Ardyn still invites him to talk about all that shit makes it sound like it *might* work. Now I wonder what exactly there is still to know for Prom, apart from the whole story how he ended up in a Lucian foster family which I'm absolutely sure Ardyn knows very, very well...

"I didn't know who else to talk to, so I came to you…"

prompto and ardyn (though not necessarily promdyn, you can if you want kdjfsdf) i'm just!!!! thinking about the potential there to actually talk about things especially after...everything.........

@paintedscales I really loved this idea, and I hope you like my take on it! I’ve often wondered myself how they’d even begin to unpack what happened between them. I didn’t dive too deep since I’m running on fumes x.x but I hope you enjoy!

It was another night of insomnia, of endless dreams of the past, and Prompto had had enough of lying in bed waiting for a sleep that never came.

The cold wind that brushed his hair as he ventured into the city was a relief. Midnight walks through the capital never got old, even with the changes since Noctis had taken the mantle of king. Prompto could still see the highlights of the old world peeking through the cracks in the dark: streetlights flashing in time with footsteps and passing cars, night markets tucked in alleys selling wares no one dared show in daylight. Little things like that grounded him, reminded him he should’ve been grateful—grateful to have survived, to have lived through it all, but his steps faltered.

Prompto stared down at his boots, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to bruise. A sigh escaped. How could he be grateful for the future when he was shackled to a past he never chose? The gods had been gone for four years, yet he realized an inconvenient truth: he still had his demons.

“Damn it…”

Maybe that was what drove him to the district outside the citadel—to give fate a little push. What better way to face one’s demons than to stare into the eyes of a man who had once been one?

Prompto swallowed hard as he reached Ardyn’s door. The place was tucked away from the world, quiet and unassuming, yet close enough to keep watch over the kingdom’s affairs.

He clenched a fist.

It was more than Ardyn deserved. Still, if Noct could bury the hatchet—and if the Adagium himself had managed peace with Gladio of all people—surely he could do the same. Or maybe he’d end up like Ignis, who still wouldn’t touch Ardyn with a ten-foot pole. Even the former's loyalty to Noct had strained under the weight of such compassion.

Before Prompto could retreat, the decision was made for him: the door cracked open. A pair of blue eyes glinted in the dark, then the door swung wider. Ardyn stepped out, hair even more disheveled than usual, as though dragged from a rare nap.

“I thought that was you.”

“Y-yeah.” Even after all this time, Prompto couldn’t get used to it—seeing him without daemonic eyes, not those ember-yellow orbs that had haunted him. “Is this…a bad time?”

“Do I look like I get much company these days?” Ardyn’s tone was dry, his gesture loose, though the eye roll he gave made Prompto flinch. He sighed, softened, and stepped aside. “Make yourself at home.”

Inside, Prompto’s gaze darted around the clutter: some corners messy, some strangely neat, others beyond description. It reminded him of Noct’s old apartment, back when Ignis had to pick up after him or else he’d drown in his own possessions.

“Guess it runs in the family…” he muttered.

“Beg pardon?”

“I mean—uh, how are you settling in? Been a couple of months now, right?” He corrected himself quickly, sinking onto the sofa Ardyn motioned to.

“I’m still figuring myself out.” Ardyn arched a brow. “I didn’t peg you as a man for small talk. Not at this hour, anyway.”

“Guess you see right through me.” Prompto hunched forward, shoulders caving in as his eyes drifted to the stars outside the window. “I…wanted to talk—about a lot, actually. We haven’t spoken since Noct’s coronation, and…I can’t sleep. I can’t rest, not when I keep seeing Verstael, and you, and everything back in Niflheim. I’m so lost. I want to move on, keep being the happy-go-lucky guy, keep everyone’s spirits up, but I can’t. Not when your shadow is always there, waiting for me the moment I try to breathe in peace. I tried talking to the guys about it, but...they wouldn't understand. I didn't know who else to talk to, so I came to you."

Ardyn stayed silent, eyes fixed on him, replaying his words before he finally spoke. “You think confronting me will give you closure. That it’ll silence the nightmares.”

Prompto lifted his head, nodding faintly. His hope faltered at Ardyn’s tired chuckle.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not the answer you’re looking for.”

Prompto exhaled through his nose. “Can you give that to me in English, please?”

A slight huff escaped Ardyn. “I can’t fix what’s wrong with you. Being one of the many hands that violated you as well, I doubt we’ll ever reach an impasse, much less a friendship—even with your knack for empathy I've seen you use on Noct and the common folk." His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Prompto’s face. “Even now, as I said Noct, your eyes flared with anger. This—” he gestured between them “—is never going to be healthy.”

“Then why let me in?” Prompto asked, voice tight, jaw clenching. “Why play at hospitality just to spit it back in my face?”

“Because, dear boy, we’re two men who have been hurt and have hurt each other. There’s an intimacy in that which few will ever understand, and while I can’t help you—and I doubt you’d take away any of my ills of the mind—there’s something mending in the simple minitstry of presence. Wouldn't you say?"

Something stirred in Prompto at that: not peace, but a quiet contentment, the faint glow of recognition. He looked up from his hands as Ardyn cleared his throat.

“The night remains young.” Ardyn drew a steady breath and met his gaze. “So. Where would you like to begin our little side quest?”

Prompto blinked, caught off guard. He’d half expected to be thrown out. Maybe Ardyn was right—this wouldn’t fix anything, but he had to start somewhere. If he didn’t evolve, he couldn’t stand in the light with the others.

“I…want to talk about Verstael first,” he said, steadying his voice. “Verstael, the clones, all of it.”

Ardyn’s sigh was long, shoulders sinking as he rose. He waved irritably when Prompto moved to follow. “Stay put. I’ll make us drinks.”

“Coffee?”

“No. Something stronger. We’re going to need it, talking about that man, gods be damned…I hope you like white wine, it's all I have left.”

Prompto couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Leaning back into the couch, the sound of glasses clinking faintly from the kitchen, Prompto's stomach twisted, but beneath it was something steadier. Maybe it was resolve, perhaps it wasn't. Maybe this wouldn't amount to anything, but Prompto knew he wasn't here for easy answers. He was here because he was tired of running from ghosts. If it meant sitting in the lion's den to carve some semblance of peace, then so be it.

[nyardynn]

omg lmao!! That's the valid information I need to see in the morning. Thank you.

You learn many important ffxv facts by opening the models in blender.

[nyardynn]

Now put Gladio and Prom next to Ardyn and tell us who can kiss what.

You learn many important ffxv facts by opening the models in blender.

[nyardynn]

(work in progress)

[nyardynn]

employment cannot rob my fertile mind of its vivid yaoi scenarios

[nyardynn]

On the subject about parents needing to control their child's reading and invade their privacy in order to "protect" them from "inappropriate material:

Until I was in....college? At least? The vast, vast majority of the books I read were either a) assigned by my school or b) (the vast majority of my reading) provided to me by my mother.

My mom is a librarian. She filled our rooms with books, picked especially for us. She pointed out books on the shelves in our home library (separate from our bedroom shelves) that she thought we would like. She bought us books for birthdays, Christmas, and just stacks of recommendations. She once paid me $10 to read one of the Cirque Du Freak books because she said I needed "to be exposed to bad literature."

She respected my privacy in room, didn't go through my belongings. She explicitly pointed out to us that she wouldn't know if we took a particular book of the shelf, as long as we returned it, if we didn't want her to know we were reading it. She purposely brought us books that she didn't care for herself, because she thought we might find them valuable or enjoyable.

And if we wanted to read something she thought might upset or disturb us, she would explain why. She wouldn't stop us from reading it - just ask us to check in with her, to talk through it.

And so when I read something that upset or disturbed me, I would go to her. She would listen and talk through it with me.

If she said she didn't think I would like something, or that a book might disturb me, or that she thought I should wait until I was older, I listened to her.

She didn't need restrictions or control to protect me. Because she proved I could trust her.

Controlling kids is never about "protecting" them. It's just about control.

[nyardynn]

"go to hell." basic. weaksauce shit. "i hope that character you really like gets an uber-popular yaoi ship and you have to watch in real time as they get sanded down into a toothless, barely-recognizable version of themself that's become little more than a vessel for bland tropes and OOC fluff, and that's just the permanent fandom consensus view of that character now." now THAT'S a threat. that cuts right to the bone. that's real. that's happening to me as we speak.

[nyardynn]

Postal service to the USA is officially at and end for Austria. I wonder what that means for businesses like amazon or exports in general. The USA has been buying lots of food overseas. You guys are probably going to see a shortage of stuff soon.

Hey Americans! If you buy things from overseas, as of August 22 you probably don’t anymore.

Most foreign postal services have paused shipping of packages under $800 to the USA. You will hear that it’s “because of tariffs,” but that’s not exactly true.

It’s because the US:

Has not given anyone a way to pay those tariffs and

Has not been clear on what will ACTUALLY have to be paid. (The country’s tariff has been floated, but a US$80 flat fee has also been floated.

Many countries require people to pay tariffs when they receive a package. That’s fine. But you have to give people a way to pay the damn tariff. And there isn’t a way to do so. Apparently there isn’t even a PLAN for a way to do so.

So: if you have been buying from Etsy or eBay or a little shop overseas, if you subscribe to a foreign magazine, if you are an immigrant and you buy food from home via mail, now you will need to fly there and bring it home. Of course, the people who can afford that are also the ones responsible for this dumb policy.

[nyardynn]

Ugh, I need a new Ardyn server to follow. Why did my old community have to die? Why am I being punished like that?

[nyardynn]

"Off his chair, jester! Trash Jesus sits there!"

[nyardynn]

This is your semi frequent reminder that there is no official AO3 app

All those are unofficial and available on the Google play store as of August 13th 2025. They mirror AO3's content and insert ads, for which the developer gets paid by page impression (that's every time the ad appears in the fic you're reading) not just clicks.

No money goes to AO3, nor to the fic writer. It goes to the person who did the bare minimum.

Many of these apps have poorly worded or non existent privacy policies, so they may also be mining as much data as possible and selling that on to unknown third parties.

Please, just use the official AO3 site and the browser.

[nyardynn]

[nyardynn]

“You didn’t really think it was going to be that easy did you - oh, you did! Well aren’t you just darling?”

[nyardynn]

Hey there! I've read your prompt request and I'd be so into soft Ardynoct! If that tickles your fancy, I'd love Noctis just being good to Ardyn and Ardyn being comfortable, finally feeling...right? Justified? Understood as the person he was and is? I don't even know how this could happen, but probably not without Ardyn having a mental breakdown first, haha. Please feel free to go about it any way you'd like! Thank you so much in advance for your time. ;u;

@nyardynn I hope this approach works for you! I based it on the concept art of Ardyn with the chocobros and Noctis and Lunafreya’s kids at the end of the game (we were robbed of so much, honestly).

Thank you for sending this request my way, it was such a treat to dive into, and I hope it gave you the kind of soft comfort you were hoping for 💙

There was something about the coast that settled even the rawest of nerves. Even Ardyn could admit it, though discomfort still gnawed at him. The waves pushed gently in and out against the sand near his feet, his attention pulled away by the sound of children screaming in delight. He glanced to his right, watching the young prince and princess dart across the beach, Gladio and Prompto in hot pursuit. The sight tugged a rare smile from him—one that quickly fell as a familiar figure approached.

"Majesty," Ardyn murmured, looking away after Noctis gave him a nod. He visibly flinched when the king sat beside him, keeping his gaze fixed on the ocean before sighing. "I hope you're not intending to drag me back to the festivities. I still need a moment."

"No one's forcing you to do anything. I just came to check on you," Noctis said, brows furrowed as he studied him. "You haven't been yourself since Seraphii asked about us—about our past. Are you okay?"

"I'm quite peachy, as you'd put it," Ardyn muttered, though his eyes softened when they landed on the princess as she scooped her little brother up, swinging him around with laughter. He let out a slow breath. "I know she meant no harm, and I'd never fault a child for curiosity about her family. I just…never had that conversation with myself."

"About how to talk to people about what happened?"

"Mmm." Ardyn nodded faintly. "And then it struck me—what must people think, knowing the immortal-accursed, turned hero spends his days with the king and his kin?"

"I don't think people really care, Ardyn. Not anymore," Noctis assured.

"Though the years have aged you, you're still naïve," Ardyn said, finally turning to face him. "The people still look on me with disdain wherever I go. They may not speak it aloud, but I know what lies in their hearts."

"Are you saying I made a mistake taking you in after Bahamut?"

"I'm saying that perhaps putting the people's hearts at ease would have been the better play."

The implication settled between them like stone. Noctis's eyes widened. "Ardyn, there's no way we're going to execute—"

"Don't." Ardyn cut him off, voice sharp. "I've said my peace."

Silence pressed in. The only sounds were the ocean and the distant laughter of children. Noctis knew better than to argue once Ardyn slipped into this mindset—reminiscing, picking apart every fault, every consequence.

Perhaps he had been wrong to keep him alive after all Ardyn had done, after all he had put them through, but when the cosmos—not the gods—had offered a second chance, Noctis believed everyone deserved a clean slate—even Adagium himself. Still, watching Ardyn sink back into self-loathing made his chest ache. He hated this: the way Ardyn clung to sadness, the way nothing Noctis said ever seemed enough to pry it loose.

So he did the only thing that could reach him.

He slid an arm over Ardyn's shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. Ardyn stiffened instantly, bristling like a chocobo's tail feathers at the sight of a predator.

"I hate it when you do this," Ardyn muttered into his chest, muffled, as Noctis laughed softly.

"You asked for it," Noctis said, smiling down at him. He blew a gentle breath across Ardyn's face, earning a grimace. "We forgave you a long time ago."

"I know that…"

"And I know firsthand what you went through. The Crystal showed me as much," Noctis said, choosing his words carefully. "I may not have stood in your shoes, but I walked your path while communing with the gods. I know it hasn't been easy for any of us, but look—you're family. We want you here. I want you here. So…obey your king."

Ardyn shut his eyes, turning away even as he leaned against Noctis's shoulder. He told himself there was nothing for him left in this world, not truly, yet he couldn't refuse. The tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but his voice stayed steady.

"As you command, your highness."

Beyond them, the children's laughter rang out over the steady pull of the tide, as if the world itself was reminding him there was still life, still warmth—even for him.

[nyardynn]

the draconian