#fic bind

tips pls tips pls

how did you manage to create a typeset for tcoptp bcs i'm wanting to do the same but i'm literally a hermit I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING

pls n thank you xoxo

ok hi sorry i haven't replied sooner but here we go

honestly? just go for it! it's a bit scary because of how long the fic is, but just start looking for a style you like and learn how to work with Word or whatever you use for typesettings. if you're having trouble you can always look for tutorials, theres so much information out there and everyone's really nice, so don't be scared to ask questions.

also, remember that at the end of the day you're dealing with something you love. it took me months to make my typesetting, and it was frustrating and so so much fun because i was doing something new that was all mine, by me, for me.

so yes, it's long and new and scary but also, it's tcoptp!! it's the most wonderfully crafted story, and now you get to make your own version of it and put your focus on it and spend more time with it and that is just so exciting (in my opinion at least).

i also started from nothing and it's the first binding of anything i've ever done, and it’s not perfect and not professional in any way, but i love it soso much because it's mine.

so my advice is: don't be scared, take your time, find a good playlist to listen to, and enjoy it.

i really hope you do it and share the results if you do!!

The AU info has been updated with a timeline of events now!

The rest of them are in tears.

Zelos hears Colette sniffle and sees Lloyd wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. He hears Sheena’s quiet, trembling sigh and sees the way Regal sets his jaw. How Presea can’t look ahead, how Genis’ knees give way, how Raine looks regretful.

In contrast, he wears a smile.

How could he feel pity for the man who had created the world who had caused so much suffering? How could he shed tears, when there were still bruises healing underneath his shirt - when threat of all the things he could do to Seles still rang in his ears? 

He didn’t mourn. In all truth, he was glad. There was no way he would ever rest easy, knowing that Mithos Yggdrasill still walked the Earth. Knowing that a monster of that magnitude could still exist, knowing all that he had, enduring all that he had - he’d probably have killed him himself.

Lloyd springs into action to save the worlds, and Zelos simply lifts a hand to shield his eyes.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

It happens too fast for him to react to, too fast for him to even process. One minute, he’s preparing to accept Yggdrasill’s final judgement - the next, her blood is on his face and her body is in his arms.

His first thought is that he should have been the one to die.

His second is that, selfishly, there is now no one to take Yggdrasill’s eyes off of Seles.

The third is that he must truly be a deplorable person to be thinking about anyone other than the girl dying in his arms. 

Yggdrasill’s reaction is nothing short of a tantrum. His attention is off of the both of them - screaming and ranting in a way that Zelos can only attribute to madness, a child who has had their new favorite toy broken by their own clumsiness. He shifts Colette in his arms, looks at the wound - huge, deep, gaping, a chasm across her small frame - and knows there’s not a god damn thing he can do.

His hands shake as he tries, calling forth the magic as loudly as he dares with an unpredictable madman screaming not ten feet away. It would take all he had to heal a broken bone, let alone something like this.

Her hand touching his face breaks his concentration.

"I’m glad," she whispers, feather soft, saying the words he’d always hoped to hear but in all the wrong ways, "that you’re alive."

Her last smile breaks his heart.

He had thought that, with all of the times that he had seen death in his life, he would be numb to it by now. Where a normal human reaction to loss would be there would just be acceptance, an acknowledgement that this was an aspect of his life that would be inescapable as long as he breathed.

But he was wrong.

He could lose his mother and father. He could cut down countless Desian lives. He could watch people - good people - in human ranches toil and suffer and scarcely bat an eye.

And yet here he was, screaming her name as if it would make any difference.

Zelos doesn’t even remember striking the final blow to his opponent, only that that person was 

(also dead)

no longer an issue and he was running towards her. Everything outside of her blurs and blackens, he just sees her and the smell of her blood is all that he can pick up on, all that he can feel as he presses his hands to the wound. 

Kuchinawa is dead. He doesn’t remember doing that, only he’s certain that he did because that’s his dagger stuck in the ninja’s head. 

"First Aid!" It’s a weak spell, meant for cuts and bruises. A weak spell that does nothing but absolve the pain, that lessens the guilt as he feels her life slipping through his shaking fingers. "First aid! First aid!" 

Somehow, he’d believed her to be above death. She’d cheated it so many times, he’d watched her dance deftly out of death’s bony grasp and turn far more dire fights around. He’d believed… that she must be something more, something better than the people around him, bound by mortality and corrupted by the morality of their broken world.

But it’s foolish to believe that a person is any more than a person.

She goes cold before he runs out of mana. By the time the others arrive, he’s exhausted himself. Raine pushes him aside to take over, only to turn away at the realization that she was far, far too late.

He loses his composure instantly. His bloody gloves leave handprints on the front of her clothing, he hauls her up - yells in her face, demands something better, because she can’t die like this.

He isn’t sure he’s made the right decision until he hears the accusation fall from her lips. It was meant to be a ploy, a distraction - the only way he could possibly get close enough to Cruxis in order to get the intel that they needed. It was supposed to end when he has the Eternal Sword in hand… if they were in this crazy plan, then they were in this together.

You never- you never wanted to help us at all! You were just looking to swap places with Colette! 

Her words hit like a physical blow. He stops at the transporter, turns - incredulously staring. The comments come in a wave - we should never have trusted you, you were just using us. Each somehow hurts more than the last.

But the worst is the look on her face.

The look that says he is worse than the scum under her boot.

"… That’s right."

Zelos steps away from the platform completely.

"That’s right. I was just using all of you all along. Haha! You totally fell for it. I’ve been playing you this whole time and you had no idea.”

He thinks about Seles, and how at least this way he upheld this end of the bargain. Tethe’alla was already flourishing, there was no way Cruxis could use her for their plans. She would no longer be their bargaining chip.

He thinks about Colette, and how sorry he is that he won’t swoop in there to rescue her. The role of the hero had never suited him, had it? He was just a puppet on strings, dancing beautifully but always at the behest of another. They’ll save her, they’ll rush in there and save the day and this whole crazy plan will be just fine.

It never needed him in the first place.

"And how stupid do you look right now, huh? Do you think I cared about any of you? It’s always been her or me, and somebody’s got to look at for me. It’s not like any of you ever gave a damn about what happened to me, so long as your ideals are in tact. I can’t believe you thought you could change the world. How naive can you be?”

He laughs, loud and hollow. It feels good, like ripping a bandaid off. They never cared, they never wanted anything to do with him - he was just a backup, always a backup. The useless one, the wheel with the cracked spokes. All they had to do was wait for it to fall apart, it didn’t matter they had a better one on hand.

No one wanted to deal with someone who just darkened the lives of everyone they came in contact with.

"It’s just as well. I never actually cared about any of you either.”

I’ll generate a number from 1-77 (YES SEVENTY SEVEN OPTIONS!) to see what is in our muse’s destinies then I’ll write some drabble based on the number generated.

51. Our muses are forced into marriage, but slowly realise that although they may not love each other, there is no one they would rather spend their life with