#I think I might move Regis over here

[clericofshadows]

big place!

Description: Kaidan, Ashley, and Regis take in the Ctiadel's sights, and Ashley ends up gaining some interesting information about her new crew.

Paring: Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

“Big place!” Kaidan exclaimed, looking out over the nebula view of the Citadel.

Regis smiled, standing behind him and Williams, watching the traffic go by.  Never change, Kaidan.

Williams turned her head to look over at Kaidan.  “That your… professional opinion, sir?”

Regis coughed to hide his snort, but given the glance Kaidan gave him, he didn’t do a very good job of it.  “I don’t see how they can keep tabs on all this.  The Presidium might as well be on another planet.”

“There is definitely a gap between their presentation and what’s here,” Kaidan observed.  “Tracking arrivals must be a nightmare.”

“This makes Jump Zero look like a porta-john, and it’s the largest deep space station the Alliance has,” Williams chimed in, looking around.

“Jump Zero was big, but this is a whole nother scale. Look at those ward arms!  How do they keep all that mass from flying apart?” Kaidan leaned in closer against the railing.

“I’d love to find out, honestly,” Regis said, crossing his arms behind his back.  “But you won’t catch me living here anytime soon.  I imagine they’re careful with newcomers.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, either, but you can’t deny the allure.  They probably just want to keep everything running,” Kaidan replied.  “It has to be hard keeping all these cultures working together.”

“Or maybe they just don’t like humans,” Williams muttered.  Ah, interesting.

He knew there was a reason he liked her, but now he had a more tangible reason.  Someone more skeptical of the council, willing to speak up against the common opinion, not immediately staying quiet.  Good.

But Regis had to play with her a bit.  “Why not?  We’ve got oceans, beautiful men, this emotion called love…” He glanced at Kaidan.  “According to the old vids, we have everything they want.”

“Wait, beautiful men?” Williams turned around so she was facing him, leaning against the barrier.  “Well damn, I didn’t expect you to be so open out in the field.”

Regis shrugged.  “Not really a secret to me.  Couldn’t resist.”

“And when you put it that way, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t like you,” Kaidan said, moving to stand closer to Regis.  Not quite touching, but not exactly far enough apart to call it friendly.  Testing the waters. 

A bold move from Kaidan, but also not unlike him. Kaidan wasn't afraid to be open about their relationship, but it still surprised Regis a bit to see him toe the fraternization line.

Williams tilted her head to the side, looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes.  “Hold on, I’m missing something here.”

Regis pressed a finger to his lips and winked.  “You’re smart, Chief.  You can figure it out.”

“Damn!  Mighty bold of you two,” she said, giving them an appraising look.  Not one of judgment, but rather one of approval.  “With a mission like this, how the hell did you keep it under wraps?  The way you two fought together on Eden Prime, I figured you had years of service history.”

No words spoken between them on Eden Prime, a quiet colony turned battlefield in a blink of an eye.  A connection gained by years of learning each other through biotics, testing new mnemonics and stretching the limits of what the gravity well can do.    Combining skills to break through the walls of geth, tech hacks breaking down shields before blasting them away with a Throw.  Singularities formed by Kaidan’s strong control were wrecked apart by Regis’s powerful Warps.  Kaidan’s Pulls making perfect targets for Regis’s sniper. Williams was a great asset to have on the field, and her marksman skills blended well with their biotics.  But this was an opportunity that the lovers hadn’t had yet in their Alliance career beyond shore leaves and rare moments training together, choosing to forge their own paths apart in the service. Knowing each other beyond just years of understanding, beyond shared experiences and many intimate moments, exploring each other’s lives and bodies.  A connection only biotics can share.  The biotic corona burns brightly on the battlefield, and with it, it tells a story.   Kaidan and Regis wrote their own story within the mnemonics they share, an understanding of how the other moves, casts, and fights.   Regis’s violet and Kaidan’s blue, creating a beautifully brutal vision.   The trust they share is unbreakable. 

Kaidan and Regis shared a look.  “Actually,” Kaidan said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “This is the first time we’ve been able to serve together.  Shepard—” he nudged Regis in the shoulder— “prefers solo missions and spending his time teaching N recruits.”

After Torfan, he had the pick of any ship, any tour, any position by Captains and Admirals alike who wanted someone who could get the job done at any cost.  Regis willingly embraced the title the Alliance gave, the whispers at his presence, the worried and shocked looks from some green cadets who saw him appear as a biotic instructor.  

But that didn’t mean he wanted to give them what they wanted out of him. 

Choosing to teach and stay solo was his own form of rebellion.  These were his terms.

The Spectre nomination was a similar situation for him.  He didn’t necessarily like the idea of being their candidate knowing damn well what power the Spectres had and what they could get away with.  

Yet another title he has to embrace for the Allinace.  Turning it down would be a career suicide.

If this recent tribunal with the Council wasn’t already one…  He will find a way to pin Saren for what he did on Eden Prime.

Regis nodded.  “Yes, it’s true.  I call it biotic intuition.”

“Mmm hmm…” Williams didn’t seem convinced, rolling her eyes, but Regis wasn’t quite ready to spill his whole history to her yet. “Either way, I could definitely learn from the both of you.  I haven’t had the chance to work with many biotics.”

“We’d be happy to train with you,” Kaidan said.  “Show you how we prefer to fight and how you can adapt. And how we can adapt to you."

“I’ll take you up on that, LT.  Say, and you can tell me off for asking, but does the Captain know about… this?” She asked, gesturing between them.

“Anderson and I have history, and he reluctantly let the both of us on board knowing what Alenko and I share.  He couldn’t exactly pass up the chance to have two well decorated biotics at his disposal, and I’m picky who I work with.  I almost didn’t accept the Normandy position, but I figured it was about damn time I worked on a ship with a team again.”  Regis explained.

Not exactly true.  Anderson more or less told him that the Alliance wanted Regis on board the Normandy due to his Torfan history and that his talents were wasted otherwise, and that any objections of his were likely going to be ignored.  Regis personally disagreed with that assessment, as he was part of the key to getting more biotics into specialized positions in the N program and that many covert operations were successful because of his skills.

It was obviously a political move, and he wasn’t exactly fond of being the one they chose for that.  Knowing now that they wanted him to be the first Human Spectre didn’t exactly make him any happier about their move.

However, he wasn’t lying about Anderson’s reluctance to keep Kaidan as the head of marine detail.  Fraternization will always be an issue in the Alliance, and even if they had tied the knot, it was unlikely they would’ve been allowed to serve together on such a vessel.  

The only reason he let them both aboard was due to their biotic skills, and he knew Regis would make it part of his terms for accepting the position.  Anderson was well aware of their history at BAaT, which also meant he didn’t have to deal with Regis getting bitchy with a green L3 who wouldn’t be able to read his unique mnemonics or freak out about when Regis inevitably explodes his barrier on command.

Speaking from experience, of course.  

“Clearly it doesn’t stop you two from working well together.  Maybe if you do end up getting the Spectre position, you can make an authorization to allow your relationship on the Normandy.” She smiled.  “I’m joking, of course.”

Regis raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t even think of that.  You’re a goddamn genius, Williams.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” She asked, breaking out into a laugh at the end of her question.  

Kaidan sighed.  “I’m afraid he is.”

“What do you mean, Alenko?  Think about it.” Regis said, egging him on.  

“I am.” Kaidan leaned against the railing.  “But unlike you, I can be professional about it.”

“So, you agree that it is a good idea?”

“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t stop you.  I’m just imagining what the response from the brass would be.”

“How the hell did I not notice something between the two of you sooner?” Williams asked, shaking her head, stopping what would easily become a long "argument" between them.  

“Trust me, we’ll be back to being good little Alliance soldiers once onboard the ship.  You just got a taste of what we’re really like,” Regis said.  “Let’s move out.  We’ve spent long enough here.” “What’s the plan, Shepard?” Kaidan asked, standing up straight, waiting for orders.  Williams mirrored him.

“Let’s check out the lead given by Barla Von first.  Seemed to be the most interesting to me,” Regis ordered.  

He could see Williams working well with his crew, with some time to get used to his style of command and combat.  She had great skills, but for whatever reason, her career in the Alliance seemed stagnant according to her files.  Multiple opportunities for advancement were denied for no apparent reason.

Something to look into after he gets more information about the Saren situation.  

Maybe also something he could use his Spectre authorization on, if it comes to it.

[ericac318]

Title: Miss Alabama Part II

Summary: Six months after the events of the Miss United States pageant, Cheryl, Stan, and Ella need help from Gracie Hart when they’re kidnapped. How are the lovebirds faring now that their relationship is out in the public and they’re expecting a baby? Find out in this little ficlet that’s more smutty than anything else (mostly light smut) Stan Fields x OC

Continue Reading here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47728675/chapters/120312775

Chapter 1

“Do you want to join us on stage when we surprise Gracie?” Stan asked as he and Ella sat in their dressing room at Live with Regis and Kelly.

Ella nodded, “No, I’ll pass. I don’t want to be on camera looking like this,” she added as she placed her hand on her swollen abdomen.

He shook his head, “You look absolutely stunning, but I understand. Is there anything else you’d like to do before I go out on stage?” he asked, his eyes twinkling mischeviously.

She tried to suppress her giggle as she replied, “You’re a bad boy. You’re already dressed for the show. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“If I promise you won’t get in trouble, will you share what might be on your mind?” he whispered as he leaned in toward her ear.

Ella grinned as she moved from her seat until she was straddling him, “Can you guess?” she asked, rolling her hips over his erection.

He gasped, “I think I can,” he ran his hands down her body untl they reached his pants and started undoing them.

“I was about to make a joke about you rushing but I realized that we really don’t have much time,” she whispered as she reached down and slid her underwear to the side so she could sink down on him, letting out a subdued moan as she felt him reach her depths.

Stan groaned as he moved his hips in rhythm with hers, “How are you always able to know what I need when I need it?”

“It’s a gift,” she breathed out as she ran one of her hands down his chest until it was fondling his balls,” Hows this?” she asked while wearing a sly grin.

He held his breath for a moment to stop himself from cumming before he responded, “Perfect. I hope you’re close,” he repeated words he said frequently as he felt himself about to cum.

“I am,” she responded as she felt her orgasm take her over just before his followed. 

Once Stan and Cheryl were done on stage, they rejoined Ella backstage along with Gracie.

“Gracie!” Ella exclaimed as she embraced her friend in a bear hug, “How have you been?” she asked once the two women released each other.

Gracie answered too quickly, allowing Ella to know something wasn’t quite right with her friend, “I’m fantastic. I’m the face of the FBI. What more could any agent want?”

“I can think of a few things,” Ella began before she held back her thoughts, “But, I won’t worry about all of that. Catch up with Cheryl. Next time, it’s you and me, deal?”

Gracie nodded, “Deal.”

Once Gracie agreed, Ella walked away by Stan’s side while his hand was resting on her lower back helping to support the extra weight she was carrying. 

A few days later, Cheryl, Ella, and Stan found themselves at a Nursing Home to connect with the elderly and also meet Stan’s Mother.

“Mrs. Fields, it’s an honor to meet you,” Ella began, “I’m Ella Westbrook. I won Miss Alabama and I was the second runner up for the Miss United States Pagaent. I’ve been seeng your son for a little over a year and we’re having a baby,” she added as she rested her hand on her baby bump.

Carol Fields was beside herself as she looked between the young woman and her son, “My dear, aren’t you a little young for him?”

Cheryl tried to suppress her smile as she responded, “He is but somehow, these two are in love. And, I think it’s serious,” she added.

“Cheryl is right, Mrs. Fields,” Ella replied, “Stan is definitely past the appropriate age range for me, but I love him. I hope you can accept me and your grandchild,” she added optimistically.

Mrs. Fields nodded, “I suppose love is love. Treat her right,” she warned her son before they began small talk since the serious conversation topics had already been tackled.

The three left the nursing home a few hours later and began walking to the limo when they were stopped by two men, in front of their truck.

Ella moved to the front of the group and attempted to fight off the men using techniques Gracie had taught her, but her belly was in the way and the three of them were tied up in the bed of the men’s truck a few moments later.

[afriendtoravens]

⸻

"A little long, yes, but I do believe you also mean a little bit lonely as well. That I can completely understand. I've been here for the better part of a year and still I'm getting to know the locals. I've wanted to leave, only to move on to better things. And as for us, your company is more than worth the strife we might face whilst being on the Path together. My ravens never told me that you spoke to them. I'm quite disappointed by that fact."

He had to stop himself from reaching out a gentle hand in search of Geralt's, a grin playing on his lips in its stead. He lounged back in his chair, suddenly lost in the act of reminiscing.

"True enough, though. Your lot needed me. I was the only barber-surgeon around. I'd like to think that I helped to ease the burden the smallest bit. If time itself suddenly rewound, I would do it all over again. I would spare no bit of it. I would try to save them, of course, but that part is neither here nor there."

The truth was quite simple. Regis' heart belonged to a certain witcher—a fact that he had always hidden and hidden well. Few knew. Milva, of course, saw through his stuttered responses and understood his affections. He could very distinctly remember her asking why he hid feelings that were so obvious. Dandelion knew as well. He never said a word—so very unlike him, truthfully—but he knew. He tended to tease Regis in the more private moments that they were occasionally allowed.

-----

"Don't quite know what to make of that," he replied after a moment, divesting everything that Regis had said.

He watched Regis for a few more moments before letting his eyes slide to the fire, watching the flames pop and dance among the logs.

"It wasn't the best time, none of us were at our best when you found us. But I'm glad you did. Things weren't always smooth, guess nothing ever is, but they were easier with you there. Despite how certain things went down, I was glad to have you there. And I think you being there helped change a few minds, I think, helped people realise that not all monsters are monsters. Sometimes people are worse."

He shrugged wondering if he'd quite explained himself. As well read as he was, he didn't always have the knack for words.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as Regis expressed his pleasure at being able to keep a closer and more personal eye on him.

"I had noticed, I spoke with them sometimes. I don't understand them worth a damn, but the company was nice. I think having someone watch my back might be nice for a while. The road is starting to feel a little long sometimes."

[caparrucia]

As a prompt, CorNyx soulmates? Or anything CorNyx, I love the way you write them!

Later, much later - after a scramble for lunch that stretched out into dinner, though by then the entirety of the village had heard the news and had come in to bring their gifts, good wishes and nosy questions - Cor finds himself following Nyx out the window of his room and onto the roof. They sneak on the sturdy beams holding the sprawling, interconnected labyrinth of roofs all the way across the village - technically, it's all one house, technically, and it strikes Cor as the kind of technicality that Regis would be delighted by - to then make their escape onto the mismatched, broken marble pillars that lead up towards the massive temple that dominates the entire island. Nyx has Cor's hand in his and leads him confidently halfway up the trail towards The Seat, and then detours hard left and almost rounds back until they're in the small, hidden ruins he's made his hideout since he first stumble upon them, when he was six. Half the ceiling dome is still in place, so it's a halfway decent shelter Nyx has spent more than one night camping in, particularly when he knew better than to go home and face his mother's - or worse, his sister's - wrath.

"So!" Nyx says, finally letting go of Cor's hand - Cor releases his hand without complaint or hesitation - to get a good look at him. "Hi."

The corner of Cor's lip twitches.

"Hello," he replies, clearly entertained. "My name is Cor. Cor Leonis."

"You did say, yes," Nyx says, staring at Cor and tilting his head back and forth, like a pendulum, as he stares at the ghost-tattoos on Cor's face, perfect mirrors of his own. "The Cor Leonis, I take it. Immortal Conqueror of Gralea, huh."

"The King conquered Gralea," Cor says, almost demure, as he shrugs. "I just happened to open the way so he could."

"Shit," Nyx says, because everyone has heard the story. The world over owes Cor and King Mors for that feat. And all the others who'd gone with them, but only Cor and the King had made it through alive. "Oh. Yeah. I'm Nyx. Nyx Ulric." Nyx snorts. "But you already knew that."

"Yes," Cor says, lips twitching again, with the promise of a smile. "I've been told so." He pauses awkwardly. "It's... nice to meet you, Nyx."

"This is weird," Nyx says after a moment, rather than reciprocate. "Is this weird for you? I feel this is weird. I never... I don't know, I never imagined it'd be like this."

"What did you imagine?" Cor asks, moving to sit on a half broken pillar, hands resting on his thighs, relaxed.

Nyx opens his mouth to say something witty and snarky, and then he remembers he... he doesn't have to. Because Cor has every single one of his tattoos on his skin, lines crisp and stark, unmistakable for anything else. Just the ones on his fingers would be enough - there's only four other idiots as ridiculous as him, to get those done, he's been told - but the ones on his face and his ear and his throat and he knows without looking that the ones on his ribs and his thighs and his ankles are all there too.

Because Cor Leonis is his soulmate, and he came all the way to Galahd to find him, so he can instead say the truth.

"I had a friend who was born the same year I was," Nyx confesses, emboldened by the fact Cor is looking patiently at him, no judgment or disappointment or rejection on his face. "That's... I know that's not how it works, in the mainland, but here? We might as well have been twins. We shared everything. Toys, treats, stories. Everything." Nyx's eyes dim and his expression softens. "And then one day, he went out to hunt and never came back. He used to say he was in no hurry to find a soulmate, that if they were really destined, they'd find each other regardless. And then he died, without ever meeting them. And I just... I couldn't stop thinking about it. What happens to his soulmate, now? What if he didn't have one? What if he did have one? What if he had searched and found them? What if... So I started volunteering to do feats and earn my tattoos. I figured, if I died doing it, that would be that, but if I pulled it off..." He smiles, small and awkward and deeply terrified. "Here we are." He swallows hard. "Here you are."

Cor offers a hand and, after a small eternal snippet of indecision, Nyx reaches out and grabs it, letting himself be pulled closer, until he's standing between Cor's legs.

"I'm sorry," Cor says, which is not at all what Nyx expected to hear. "It took me too long to figure out what they were."

Four whole years, at that. Every few months, a new mark would appear: an arrow head, a line, a dot, something. Cor felt none of the physical pain, but the frustration of trying to decipher them burned at him. And then one day Regis had found the same arrowhead that Cor had under his eye in a filigree decorating a book written and sent to Insomnia from Galahd. Clarus had made a terrible joke, about only someone from Galahd being capable of handling all of Cor.

And now here he was.

"You came," Nyx says, hoarse. "That's all that matters."

"I think what matters is what happens next," Cor replies, head tilted back as Nyx gave into temptation and ran his fingers over the marks on Cor's face and in the process ended up cradling his head in his hands. "Wanna find out with me?"

"I'd be delighted," Nyx whispers, feeling the distance close inch by inch until they are breathing the same air. "I might get very clingy very quickly. Sorry."

"It's okay," Cor replies, the shape of the words causing his lips to ghost against Nyx's, not quite a kiss. "It'll be a nice novelty, having someone who stays."

Nyx kisses him, properly, thoroughly, breathlessly, for a solid five minutes in reply. By the time they part, Nyx is kneeling on Cor's thighs, weight entirely pressed on him and Cor looks somewhere between thrilled and entertained.

"Fuck you for knowing what to say," Nyx says, laughter in the swing of each vowel.

"I really don't," Cor promises, tugging him back down for another kiss.

It's a very long time, before anything else is said.

[thithesandofferings]

Yandere FFXV Crew

FFXV being Yandere- Gladiolus/Noctis/Prompto/Ignis/Ardyn/Regis

*Covers eyes* I am not here. But you are. You might as well read. 

:readmore:

TW:  MINORS DNI  Dark Content. Yandere themes. Stalking. Dubious Dubious Consent. Slight Daddy kink. Masochism. Sadism. Slight exhibitionism. Fear play. 

Gladiolus - Geeezzz he's so in love with you. Has been for so long. Just watching you through the castle. He just knows you'd look good in his bed. With a ring on your finger (and neck) crying out his name. He sees the other knights in the castle chatting you up, but he may or may not be standing behind you giving them the death glare. Its only accidental that a couple of knights disappear. Only happenstance that these were the same men that gave you a hard time. When you look at him with needy eyes asking him for help, he has to have you. Wont let you out of his room. Look hes trying to make you feel safe and secure. You may think he's not the kindest when he buckles you in your collar connected to a brick wall and gives you the deepest of kisses. Grips your chin to open your mouth so he has more access- every day before he goes to work. He knows you hate when he leaves and hes gonna make it up to you. He even promised you a baby if youre good. Your eyes are misting, but theres no reason for it. you know he's gonna fuck you into that very same wall when he gets home. Give you all the attention that you've been whining for. "Awww sorry princess, Daddy didnt mean it. Im not letting you go unitl you forgive me".

Noctis- Two words. Cage Beds. Always. He loves you, but he cant trust you as far as he can throw. He was even nice enough to pick the bed with you in the room.  Keeps one leg shackeled at all times when he doesnt have sights on you. Why would you want to get out anyways? Your sole purpose is to serve him. He would never feel bad for taking your life. Its his anyways. He might use the guards to spy on you, and so what? You like to run. And not that he doesnt like to chase you, no, it becomes a hassle when he has duties to fulfill for the kingdom. Playtime is not 24/7 pet and you know this. He has to roll his eyes because it seems that no one understands that not a single soul is allowed to talk to you in any capacity. At this point he's going to have to pay his public executioner more, he's been working overtime. Probably gonna have to fuck your little mouth shut again just to give everyone a break.  He would hope you'll get used to being his possession. Its hardly sexual at this point, especially when he can use you like a malleable toy. You're cute,  but he's really been thinking about...experimentation during his down time. Wonders what you'd do if he held a syringe of anything next to that cute face.  

Prompto - He doesnt mean to be angry. He doesnt. But you just make him so hot, its hard to cipher his feelings out of something so strong. You were so nice and thats why he took you in the first place; but now youre so hurtful. How is he supposed to deal with that- especially when youre saying mean things to him. How could you say something about his humanity! He has it! He definitely doesnt mean to bruise you, gripping your waist so tight that bruises form, its an honest mistake. But he has to prove it to you somehow that he is deserving of you. He adores it when he fucks you so good that you pass out. Pleas and gasp making an abrupt choked noise when your head hits the pillow. Doesnt mean he's gonna stop his hips from moving. He needs to prove to you that you are it. So he'll fuck you awake so he can remind you. No matter how much it takes.

Ignis- Wants to get inside your head first. To be the only thing you think about. Walks by you and sometimes bumps into you. Says he's sorry and touches you. makes sure that your mind drifts to him. He knows exactly where you're going to be at the exact time. Of course he's input cameras into every point in your house and office. He cant keep an eye off you for a second. What if that "partner" from the other cubicle comes by and hassles you again? He sees the way that man looks at you. Distractingly similar to how Ignis himself looks at you. But that guy doesnt care about you. Doesnt know what you like to eat or what flowers you like first thing in the morning. Or that you even prefer to be bent over the desk rather than pressed against the window. Probably doesnt know that your hole squeezes just a little tighter when someone walks pass. Has to press his hand against your mouth when you get a little too loud. Frown deepens when he thrust into you as hard as he can when your "partner" knocks on the door.

Ardyn- He's so giddy when you wake up and his lips are already on yours before your eyes open. He picked up the change of breathing and wanted to be ready for you. He can mark what belongs to him right? Gods he cant wait until he puts bruises on that pretty skin. He wants to hear you whine for him. You may be a resistant now, but you'll come around. They always do. He's seen the way your eyes flutter just slightly when he grasps your throat when youre being just a little too bratty. The way you beg gets him so hard- he wants to fuck you where you stand, but he's trying to be patient. Knows that one day you'll come to him crawling on your hands and knees with that cute little collar, leash in mouth, begging for him to fuck you. He can wait. He's waited this long hasnt he?

Regis- In the name of the throne, it has to be done. You have to be his. Does not matter your standing whether high status or low born. You were supposed to be his. The Gods told him so. Its a shame you were taken from your home by his very guards, but he knew you would have a better life with him. He would treat you right. Give you all the little toys your heart desired. He's wanted you for so long. How dare you ignore him? A king? He'd make sure you never step foot out of the castle again. For your own good. You deserved the best. And you would get the best too wouldnt you? His fingers, his mouth, even his time. He wants those beautiful face writhing in pleasure not pain, but if you dont behave, he'll take either.

[tricktster]

the twilight series suddenly makes 100% more sense if you read them under a specific premise that, i contend, is heavily supported by the text:

Much like Amy’s diary in Gone Girl, the books in the Twilight Saga are verbatim reproductions of in-universe diary entries carefully and deliberately created and curated by badass unreliable narrator Bella Swan as a means to achieve immortality.

Prerequisite assumptions:

1) Bella actively and persistently wants to become a vampire, both diagetically and (I contend) non-diagetically. The average vampire novel format often fails to capture realistic human behavior in one highly specific area: the protagonists are frequently mortals who grapple with the choice of whether to become a vampire. This is stupid, because being a vampire would obviously be dope as hell; particularly in the Twilight Universe, where vampires are not required to take a human life to survive, and indeed, have the capacity to live full and rewarding lives while integrated* into the human community.

(*integrated-ish; see Assumption 6)

2. There are too many coincidences for Bella to have encountered the Cullens by sheer chance, only to be the ONE person that Edward can’t live without (due largely to the novelty factor of not being able to read her ding-dang thoughts.)

3. Diagetically, the Volturi don’t even know Bella’s psyonic gifts until New Moon, but we also know that the Volturi scour the globe for recruits to enlist into the protection of their governing body.

4. Nobody wants to be a voiceless cog in a bureaucracy.

5. Nobody, and especially nobody in high school, wants to be a high school student forever.

6. Vampires in twilight are, as a group, cartoonishly terrible at disguising their true nature.

7. Forks is a backwater town approximately 3.5 hours away from the biotech hub of Seattle.

7. George W. Bush and Dick Cheney can eat my farts and they deserve to be preserved in this snapshot of an innocent author’s mind slowly unraveling.

Proposed timeline:

In 1993, there is a key system meltdown at a improvised biohacking startup in Seattle, rendering all innovative genetic modification experiments into a puddle of brown sludge that nobody can figure out how to dispose of per Federal regs, since they don’t even know what it is.

The broke founder of the startup, who for the purposes of this timeline I will call Jeff Bezos because that’s who it was, eventually grows tired of all the discussion about what to do, and just pops it in a barrel, drives a few hours out of town, and dumps it in a pond.

Bella Swan, a small child, is hanging out at a park with her family friend Jacob Black (and a ton of his friends) when they all decide to wade in a slightly murky pond. Thereafter, they are transformed.

Bella grows up as a normal, highly powerful mutant with a +20 to deception checks and wisdom saves. She lives in Arizona, but up until 2002, summers in Forks. While in Forks, she picks up on the local lore about a family of vampires who don’t eat people.

Because Forks (population: 17 + Charlie’s mustache) is boring, Bella bones up on the only interesting thing about it, i.e. Vampire Hometown baybeeeee.

In 2000, George W. Bush gets elected president, and his evangelical politics and general bumbling ineptitude informs Bella’s opinions on authoritative governmental entities.

In 2001, the Cullens make their intention to move back to Forks known, but they take a while because they need to pack all their stupid graduation hats and volvos, etc.

Later in 2001, a psychic Volturi scout rolls through Forks to ensure that nobody within living memory recalls the Cullens, and notices an anomaly in the psychic field.

The scout goes to confront Bella about joining the Volturi, and Bella immediately clocks him as a vampire, because vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human. This leaves the scout in a bind: she’s too valuable to kill, but she’s a pre-teen, and therefore too young to be transformed per Volturi authority.

The scout warns her he’ll have to kill her if she discusses the existence of vampires with any human. He then tells her he’ll be back in five years, and begins to sweet talk her on how good life will be when she’s a vampire, beautiful, immortal, powerful, etc. Bella asks if she has to kill, and dude says “nah, actually there’s a bunch of vegetarian vampires who are moving back here soon. Fucking nerds, but otherwise they’re doing well.” Bella is all about becoming a vampire, because Bella is a rational actor.

Bella moves to Arizona, and as the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are unjustifiedly initiated, she recognizes that while she DOES want to be a vampire, she does NOT want to be a foot soldier in any war that she can’t support. She needs a plan.

In 2004, Bella is watching her step-dad’s minor league baseball game when it occurs to her. On her own, she’s a target for the Volturi, but if she had some people to watch her back, she might be okay. Of course, nobody fucks with the Volturi on behalf of some rando human. She’ll need to con her way into a coven who’ll have her back and also give her that +10 to constitution via vampiric transformation, which she desperately wants because she’s a rational actor. And where are the non-volturi vampires that might have her back? Fucking Forks.

Bella moves to Forks in 2004, and upon seeing the Cullens, she immediately clocks them as vampires even though they left their “we’re all vampires” booty shorts at home, because, as previously discussed, vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human.

Bella notes that all the vampires but one are paired off in heterosexual bliss, and takes note of the straggler as a potential vehicle to vampyrdom.

Bella figures out that Eddie can read everyone’s mind but hers, because Edward Cullen fucking sucks at looking/acting like a human who can’t read minds. Bella further observes that Eddie has a huge undead boner for her.

She’s found her mark. Now she just needs to convince him that she’s better off as part of the coven than on her own. Problem: Eddie’s a self-pitying insufferably guilt-striken perpetual adolescent who keeps himself busy by feeling sorry for himself because he’s a vampire, angst angst angst etc etc. Also, I think he’s Catholic, so add some more guilt in. She’ll have to win him over by convincing him that they’re destined to be soulmates.

What does a vampire used to having complete insight into everyone’s mind but his crush’s want? A method to know what she really thinks of him. Bella begins writing a “diary” knowing that there’s no way in hell Eddie won’t sneak in and read it. So she Gone Girls it, and begins to lay a trap to lure him in. That first diary? Twilight.

This was just in the movie but a stoner chases her around with a worm on a stick. Nothing to do with this theory, I just like that part of the movie. Where’s my spinoff about that guy?

Eddie won’t give Bella what she wants (eternal life) by the end of book 1, even though she asks him to EXTREMELY POLITELY. Time to hit the diary with some more promises of undying love.

Bella reconnects with her old friend Jacob and the rest of the Mutated By Jeff Bezos Boys. Alas, they cannot turn her into a physically powerful sexy immortal with a bite, so she’s still stuck with plan A) win over a whole family of vampires with big Mormon energy. It’s the long con.

Edward’s angst abruptly takes a swing towards terminal. He’s absolutely your classic sadboy, perhaps because Bella now has one (1) friend that he knows about.

When Eddie begins to drift away on account of Angst, Bella conjurs up a secondary love interest who, coincidentally, is ALSO a sexy supernatural entity, and is much less coincidentally just Jacob.

We should establish here that Edward is like a 107 year old white dude and so even though Diary!Bella pretends not to see it, Metatextual Frame Story!Bella knows that dude is super racist.

Jacob Black is three things: 1. Like Bella, a mutant (although one with shapeshifting abilities), 2.one of Bella’s oldest and most trusted confidants, and 3. down to clown on an elderly teenage vampire who keeps stereotyping him. Sure, says Jacob, I’ll take the form of a werewolf. He seriously thinks we’re all just beastmen, huh? Hey look at me now, I’m Regis Philbin because this is 2005 and Who Wants to be a Millionaire is still sort of relevant. Sick.

Edward does not like that Bella has one (1) other friend. Bella and Jacob plot to use this to their advantage and lure Edward back on the wings of jealousy.

Eddie gets himself into trouble on account of Angst and poor communication, so Bella has to go rescue him from himself/the Volturi.

Aro finally meets her and gets to test her powers, which impress him. Now she’s back on the fucking radar.

I forget everything that happens in Eclipse, so i have chosen to omit that part.

Eventually she extracts a quid pro quo from Eddie; i’ll marry you if you turn me into a dracula.

We don’t really call ourselves that, Wet Blanket Cullen replies, entirely earnestly.

Bella gets married at 18 in 2006, and Eddie starts to backtrack his promise about changing her. This won’t stand.

Well, look, he’s an elderly guilty catholic/mormon teen who probably still uses super racist terms, but she’s stuck on honeymoon island, he has certain angles that work for him, and seriously what are they gonna do but fuck? Bella’s alternative is listening to her “husband” drone on about his interests, which are almost certainly Car, How Do I Post a Minion Picture on Facebook, and Licorice Used To Be a Lot Cheaper in the Good Old Days.

Whoops a fetus.

Bella recognizes that she’s GOT to have this baby: time’s running out, and Bella knows that at least two of the Vamps in her coven will cut ties if she terminates or otherwise fails to carry this baby to term because of the conservative religious subtext. She’s going to have to stick it out for 9 months, even though it’s a risky call.

Bella gets what she wants after giving birth. “My time as a human is over, but I've never felt more alive. I was born to be a vampire.” That’s a direct quote. Except now she’s got a (pretty cute and easy) baby that she desperately wants to protect from Turning Into A Vaguely Religious Cullen Dressed Head To Toe In Cream Colored Wool.

Bella decides to fake her own death and escape with the kid and Jake so they can form i guess a detective agency. Bella will get “killed” by the Volturi, move to Sydney, and open up shop, and Jake will take the kid after her a few months later.

They’re gonna need a reason why Jake gets the kid though, and there’s only one reason to do anything amongst the Cullens: a heterosexual love interest with a super problematic age gap.

Jesus, Jake sighs, is Eddie really going to believe I’m in romantic love with your actual infant? Does he really think that little of me?

Yup.

Bella tries to draw the Volturi’s attention.

Works too well.

The Cullens call up all their vague acquaintances, who are at least kind of fun. Particularly that one dude who keeps getting angry about British conduct during the American Revolution.

Well, fuck, now the Volturi are bringing an army to fight their ragtag army of Vampires Who Are Cool And Interesting Enough That We Can Safely Presume They Are All Definitely Gay. Bella can’t let those guys die, they’re the first actually compelling vampires she’s ever talked to.

Bella saves the day because she’s OP.

All the Cool Vamps start packing up to leave and Bellz almost goes with them, but the Cullens would just keep sending missionaries after her if they knew.

Bella finishes her fourth journal with the vague warning that the Volturi are still out there somewhere and they miiiight just try and get her.

Two days later, she stages a scuffle and gets the fork out of Fucks. Her journals are the only clue.

Sirius Black and baby nessie follow once edward has stopped sobbing into his cream colored sweater and moved on to Extended Power Pouting.

Bella recruits her own army of fledglings.

Bella stages a coup against the Volturi and succeeds.

Bella sits on the iron throne with a hot lady vampire on each knee and they all kiss and stuff.

Nessie I guess forms a post punk band?

Edward dies from aspiration of a brussel sprout that he ate because he just wanted to feel something.

Charlie and Billy get married.

Charlie’s mustache develops a cult instagram following, providing them with a modest retirement income.

Jacob shapeshifts into Bill Murray and is always crashing weddings.

Bella’s stepdad is off in the B plot this whole time winning the world series with the help of a kooky angel.

There. Fixed. My soul is at rest.

[awlwren-writes]

6 on the kiss meme for Cornyx in the Smoke and Mirrors au XD

Sorry to take so long; the words were in open rebellion. I blame Cor. Kiss #6: "...on a falling tear"

Cor had been a soldier a long time. He had lost a lot of friends, a lot of comrades. He had gotten used to having nightmares. He had a routine. He got up, he either did stretches in his kitchen or took a stroll around the block – just something to center himself in his body, nothing that would really feel like fighting or a mission – and then he would make himself a cup of tea and drink it slowly while reviewing the layers of security protecting each of the people he loved. Sometimes he would write letters to Cid or Wesk to review in the morning and either burn or send along. Sometimes he would write letters to Noctis or Nyx to set aside for a time when he might not be here and they might want to hear the words he could never directly tell them. Sometimes he would write letters to Clarus or Regis, raging about fate and his frustration at not being able to help them in the ways they needed. Those he always burned.

And then he would wash his mug, rinse off in the shower to wash all the feelings away, and go back to bed and try and get as much sleep as he could so he didn’t get anyone killed the next day.

The routine had had two major changes over the long years he’d been the Marshal of the Crownsguard. The more recent was the introduction of Nyx into his life and his bed. Now when he went about his routine, he did so as quietly as possible to let Nyx rest more. Before then, he’d sometimes played music and danced all by himself for his exercise, but now that just made him lonely, and when he was lonely he was tempted to wake Nyx up dance with him and missed him more when he wasn’t there. It was worth the loss, though, for the way his pillows smelled like Nyx when he went back to bed.

The first major change had been the tea he used. He’d started out with just a basic herbal tea he had vaguely recalled someone telling him was good for helping sleep when he was a kid. But one of his comrades had come over to drop off some paperwork for…something. He didn’t even remember anymore. Anyway, they had come by and made fun of his tea collection, calling him a superstitious septuagenarian, and Cor had rescinded his offer and kicked the laughing soldier out of his house. The next day he’d found a collection of fine teas from Cavaugh proper in his inbox, and he’d gotten a different variety every year on the dot.

It had proved to be a useful addition, as not only were the teas excellent, it helped to serve as a benchmark of what year he was in, a tether he could trace back to other memories of things that had happened, good and ill, since he’d started this blend and grounded him in the reminder of what was real and important. Nyx, once he’d started to come to Cor’s apartment for more than just waiting around while Cor changed into casual clothes, had offered detailed critiques of each blend and helped him use up some of the back-logs of the ones he hadn’t quite finished when the year was up, but Cor tried not to think that hard about them. He just liked them, as he’d liked each one.

Tonight, as he stared down in horror at the cup he’d prepared as he so often had before, the tea was just an awful reminder that his nightmare was all too real. Titus Drautos was the man behind Glauca’s mask, and had betrayed each of them and all the glaives under his command too many times to count, and nearly caused both Nyx and him to die less than a month ago. That wasn’t just his brain playing out worst-case scenarios, it was a literal flashback.

Titus Drautos, who had given him this tea.

It was like with his routine interrupted, he couldn’t move on, literally or figurative. Cor sat staring at his cooling tea, feeling the tears leaking out one by one against his will but was helpless to do anything about either. Titus had been his friend, and Titus had tried to have him killed. Tried to kill him himself, multiple times. Titus had given him this tea, and Titus had let Nyx be poisoned. Poisoned and starved and beaten and all but broken. Titus had continued this little joke and support and vital part of Cor’s life for twenty years, and every single one of them he had been working against everything Cor loved. Cor’s tears turned to full-blown sobs, and he tried to muffle his gasped breaths into his palm, turning away from the damning cup and box of tea. Titus Drautos didn’t deserve his grief. And if Cor hadn’t been smart enough to figure out what was happening, he didn’t deserve to mourn the world he thought had been.

That’s where Nyx found him, shoulders heaving and throat aching from suppressing the noise, his free hand in a death grip on the table. “What’s wrong, Cor?” he asked, limping over on his crutches.

Cor shook his head, fighting harder to control his breath, to get himself under control. He was better than this, and Nyx didn’t deserve the extra stress. Cor hadn’t ever suspected Titus, hadn’t been able to prevent Nyx from getting hurt, and now he’d made him get up in the middle of the night and come get him when Nyx couldn’t even walk without pain. What was he even good for anyway? He turned further away as if he could hide what was happening and tried to force his breathing to calm down. This wasn’t helping anyone.

“Oh, Cor,” Nyx said softly, voice thick with his own pain. “I— Just let it out, I got you.” Cor shook his head but couldn’t stop the tears. Nyx hobbled by him and squeezed his shoulder hard, then rubbed it back and forth a few times, facing toward the kitchen so that Cor had some semblance of privacy. “I got you,” he repeated with one last stroke along Cor’s shoulder, before snatching his mug and hobbling off to the kitchen in what in any other circumstance Cor would have admired as an impressive show of dexterity.

There was the sound of running water and what was presumably his mug being rinsed out, and then something being wrung out before Nyx headed back. Cor had calmed enough by that time that he could hear it, at least, even if he couldn’t yet open his eyes or lift his head. He scrubbed at his eyes before he tried to muffle himself again, ashamed of the almost hiccupping breaths that came after most of the tears were gone.

Nyx eased himself into a chair and stoked a hand along the side of Cor’s face a few times, then back down across his shoulder. “C’mon, Cor, breath for me,” he coaxed, and Cor shook his head more out of stubbornness than any disagreement. Nyx forced out a chuckle and moved his hand to Cor’s chest, rubbing circles there until Cor’s breathing had calmed and he could pull his hands away.

“There you are,” Nyx said fondly. “Now are you going to let me have my turn helping you?” Cor nodded mutely, voice still not cooperating yet.

Nyx seemed to take it as his own cue for silence, because he lifted a warm, wet towel to Cor’s cheeks without another word, gently wiping away the tear tracks before drying his face with what felt like Nyx’s sleep shirt. Cor’s mouth quirked up without his input, but it was kinda funny; of course Nyx hadn’t thought to get a dry towel as well.

“Ha ha,” Nyx mocked, but he was clearly somewhat amused at his own expense as well. “I was worried about you, not thinking that far ahead.” There was a swoosh and then a wet thunk as Nyx tossed the used towel back into the sink, something Cor would normally object to but in this case saved him several exhausting steps with his bad leg.

Cor opened his mouth to say something about times like this being the reason Titus didn’t trust Nyx’s planning skills but cut himself off before he could say a word. He could feel the tears coming back and tried to turn away, angry at himself. Nyx stopped him with a firm hand on his jaw, and then there were warm lips on his cheeks, kissing away the traitorous – ha! – tears. “Its okay to cry, you know. At least that’s what you told me. Were you lying to me?” he teased, his own voice thick. Cor shook his head and was rewarded with another kiss to each cheek and Nyx’s other hand coming up to stroke his hair.

“Then everything’s fine, Cor. I’m here as long as you need me to be.”

So Cor just let himself breathe through the pain, not trying to talk or do anything but lean on Nyx’s strong hand and listen to the air moving in and out of both their lungs.

A small eternity later, Cor leaned back and blinked open his eyes to see Nyx smiling wryly at him in the dim light from the kitchen. “There’re my blue eyes,” he said, voice still low and soothing. “Though I have to admit, red is not your color,” he added, voice and smirk sharpening. Cor figured he had used up his childish points for the month and so resisted sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend, or, more accurately to Cor’s actual childhood, biting him. Instead, he lifted his lip to show his disapproval and levered himself to his feet as Nyx snickered at him, then followed suit more slowly.

Cor reached out a hand to cup under his elbow in support as Nyx sorted out his crutches, earning himself a fond smile before Nyx started his slow way back to the bedroom. “Now c’mon. Shower time for you. I don’t want to disrupt your routine,” he threw back over his shoulder.

“No, we couldn’t have that,” Cor agreed as he turned to follow, ignoring the tin of tea still out on the table. “That would be the worst.”

“The absolute worst.” Nyx agreed, still stubbornly leading him on.

[hyperionswrath-a]

@somnus-lucis-caelum​ | continued from here ( x )

Arms crossed over his chest in what could only be called a defiant gesture, chin rising, the tall blond gave a small huff in retort to the response received. He knew he was being flippant, but fuck, that was pretty much the point. Having been snatched from the battle field bruised and broken like he was, he had been certain that this time he was done for, execution through the King of Lucis finally being ordered any day now. But it never happened. Instead, Regis had offered him a place among the Kingsglaive - The Kingsglaive, of all fractions! He’d laugh if it wasn’t so surreal. His orders had been the cause for most of the Glaives to lose their precious “Hearth and Home”, and their families to boot. And now he should join their ranks? The King might have said he would prefer to keep his background under covers lest the other Glaives would revolt, but how all of this was a good idea Seifer still couldn’t fathom. And now he was sitting here, bandages still in place around his midsection and chest (the largest injury had only missed his heart by a fraction), looking worse for wear and still managing to appear like he was ready to take on the world if anyone decided to get in his way. Battered but not broken. Or at least he wanted the world to think so. Giving a one-sided shrug that made him flinch slightly from the pain it sent through his body, Seifer rolled his eyes. “How’s that interesting? It’s facts. Takin’ out that damn Chancellor would be y’all’s best chance to weaken the empire at this rate.” His mind was still not working right when it came to the manipulation and twisting it had been through, but he knew Izunia had had his hands in it somehow. Pressing his lips thin when he could feel another tremor in his hands creep on due to the memories simply speaking of the Chancellor brought with it, the tall blond exhaled, then shook his head. “He’s bad news. Like. Real bad. Jus’ can’t prove it.”

And seeing how people around here still seemed intent on solving this whole shitshow politically somehow, there was likely zero chance they’d listen to his assassination plans. One hand came up to rub at his features, a tired gesture, before he glanced back at the other man in front of him clad in the Glaive uniform he was supposed to wear soon as well. “Wanna get philosophical with me now?” he retorted with a scoff, eyes narrowing to see if the guy was playing him or trying to lay a trap for some sort of judgement after all. Another shrug, another flinch and a soft hiss, then he leaned back and carefully moved to pull out a pack of cigarettes, slipping one of the sticks between his lips and, a little clumsily, lighting it with a lighter. Inhaling deeply, he let the smoke out in a puff before he finally settled to reply. “Fine, I’ll bite. Murder’s planned, often personal or at least tied to an ultimate goal. A kill is either accidental or, if ya think huntin’, out of mercy. Both can be necessary.” Taking another drag, he let the silence linger a moment, then quirked an inquisitive brow. “How’d I do?”

[harryspet]

wrapped in red | p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark? peter parker x reader, dark bucky barnes x reader, peter is still pretty sweet and bucky is evil, aged up peter, mafia/gang au, gang boss!bucky, waitress!reader, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage, kidnapping, bucky likes to watch 

A/N: idk its 7 am and I still haven’t slept and now I’m posting this. THIS IS ADULT & TRIGGERING CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Peter likes you and Bucky makes you both regret that. 

main masterlist

word count: 2.9k

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” You asked the blue-eyed man sitting at table eighteen. Your coworker had an emergency call so you found yourself tasked with tending to the table of two men. You didn’t recognize the man at first but as your eyes connected with his left arm … your breathing hitched in your throat. You smiled through your worry though, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that you knew exactly who he was. 

Bucky Barnes ran this neighborhood, but since you had never run into him, it was easy to believe he was just a myth. 

“No, doll. Just the check please,” He spoke simply and you might not have been intimidated if you hadn’t noted the many expensive rings on his right hand. The man sitting across from him was younger, his eyes were nervous too as he looked you over. His face was familiar and you thought you might have seen him in one of your classes. 

There were several empty beers on the table as well 

You nodded your head before turning away, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away from the table. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be counting. His pen roamed over the sheet and over all the numbers. 

“See, you’re only making a hundred grand from this guy's shipments. He’s using all your resources to make sure the product is clean but you could easily just do that for yourself. You cut out in the middle man and I think you could triple your profit,” Peter turned the paper so Bucky could look over all the numbers he was running. Peter folded his hands, trying to read the man’s expressions. 

As you returned to the table with the check, Peter was once again caught in the trance you put in. He recognized you from his anatomy class. He arrived at class five minutes early every day just to make sure that he could watch you come in. Part of him was unsure of what you’d think of him now, knowing who he was sitting with. 

Money didn’t grow on trees and Peter was the man of the house. College was expensive and the rent was even more expensive so he had to do what he could to get by. You were working minimum wage at a rundown restaurant, Peter didn’t doubt that you could understand that. Still, what you did was honest work and Peter couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky thanked you, resting his arms against the table as he smirked up at you, “You doing something tonight? What time do you get off?”

Your lips parted as you stared in shock. Could you just answer a simple no? “I actually have to close up today … so I … uhm-”

“I-It’s okay,” Peter rushed out nervously, seeing the way that Bucky was eyeing you, “That’s it, thank you.”

Your smile was thin and awkward before you walked away. 

Peter’s eyes widened with frustration as he stared across the table at the older man, “What are you doing?” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the check, clicking his pin in order to sign it. Peter didn’t know it but the man was leaving you a hefty tip, “Were you trying to scare her?”

“I was trying to get you a date!” Bucky retorted, “Your good with numbers, kid, and I appreciate you helping me out. I really do but your game with women is a little laughable.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Why does it matter?” Peter lowered his voice as the realization set in that Bucky was right, “Why does it matter what kind of game I have? I’m just here to count your money, right?”

The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost sympathetic, “You count money for now but you’re strong, I can tell. You could become a very valuable person to me if you work at it. And part of being in my little family is having some fucking confidence. You were drooling over that girl instead of manning up and asking her out.”

Peter crossed his arms, “What if she said no?”

Bucky smirked at the younger boy, “She wouldn’t if you had some fucking balls,” Peter rolled his eyes, “But if she did said no … then you chase her. That’s the best part.”

There was something evil in the man's glare but Peter brushed it out. The man was a professional, drug dealing murderer. “You want to ask her to prom or something?”

Peter shook his head, annoyed, “I’m not in high school, Mr. Barnes. I just like her, okay? And it doesn’t matter that I like her because it’s not like we can date. I’m sure we both have bigger things to focus on. Now ... can we go back to talking about the deal that’s going on tomorrow?”

Bucky seemed amused by the kid’s awkwardness, “I like your idea. I hate that Brock guy anyways. He’s overcharging me because I used to mess with his sister. You know … maybe if he’s out of the picture then his sister is free territory.”

“Out of the picture how?” Bucky sensed Peter’s worry and grinned. 

“That’s right, you’ve never been on one of my infamous boat rides. You should come,” Peter knew exactly what he meant. If Bucky didn’t like you, you did not want to go on a “boat ride” with him. That was a quick and easy way for your body to end up chained to a brick at the bottom of the Hudson. 

“I have a biology project to work on,” Peter said.

“It wasn’t a question, Queens.”

+

Your heart skipped a beat as a black Escalade pulled up beside you while you were walking home. You didn’t look over as you heard the window roll down. You winced as you continued to walk. You only turned to look as you heard a whistle. 

You thought he’d give up after the weird encounter at the restaurant but here he was in all his handsome and dangerous glory, “You need a ride, doll?”

“Uhm, no. But thank you!”

What was it with kids your age? Perhaps Bucky was losing some of his edginess with the younger crowd, “Get in,” Bucky said, much more forward this time, “I just want to talk.”

You took a deep breath as you clutched your purse tightly. You found your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Your body thought you’d be safer going with him rather than arguing with the famous criminal. You heard the rumors about people that went missing because they pissed him off. Every time they seemed to arrest him, he was back on the streets weeks later. The cops, ones who he didn’t pay off, could never pin him to any of the murders. 

If you went missing because of Bucky Barnes, you and your legacy were effectively wiped away. 

He opened the back door for you and you climbed into the leather seat as he slid over. Shaking, you grabbed your seat belt and buckled yourself in. Bucky was used to the lack of eye contact and shaky fingers. It usually annoyed him but, for you, he found it endearing. 

As the door closed, the man in the front seat drove off, “What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” You asked, still confused about the entire situation. 

“My friend that sat at the table with me. Peter Parker,” Bucky spoke vaguely. 

“We don’t really know each other,” You explained, hoping that guy wasn’t somehow in trouble with Bucky, “We just go to the same college.”

“No, I know,” Bucky continued, “I just know that he’s interested in getting to know you better. And Peter’s a good friend of mine, you know?”

You nodded slowly. That meant Peter was dangerous, “Right. He’s … he’s never talked to me.”

Bucky chuckled, “He’s the shy type. You’re a pretty girl, he probably doesn’t think he’s good enough. That’s why I’m here talking to you.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked hesitantly.

“That’s a good response,” Bucky gave you a smug look, “You’ll find out soon, doll. Sit tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked out the tinted window, watching your apartment building pass by. Bucky’s driver gazed at you through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road. 

+

Peter thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach. Watching a grown man cry and beg for his life before being tossed over the edge. You watched him sink and the bubbles slowly start to disappear as he went deeper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bucky had said to him.

Peter hated to say that it wasn’t as bad as he believed it would be. Perhaps the years of struggling had blackened his heart. After the murder, Bucky proceeded to drag you back to his million-dollar apartment, wanting to share a drink or to. 

Peter almost opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t twenty-one yet but knew the exact reaction he would get from Bucky. Bucky had his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he showed him to the kitchen, “One day, you’re going to have a place just like this,” He said, hinting at your luxurious surroundings, “You stick with me and you won’t need that piece of shit degree.”

Peter only nodded, accepting a beer from the man. Bucky watched as the boy chugged the content of his glass. Peter hoped it would get him through the rest of the night and help give him some liquid courage, “You’re a weird kid, Queens,” Bucky laughed, “I like it. C’mere, I want to show you something.”

You followed Bucky down the hallway, hoping it wasn’t another disturbing thing that the man found amusing, “What is it?”

“A present,” Bucky grinned, guiding Peter to the door at the end of the hallway. Peter would’ve preferred to be wowed by a million other things. Instead, his mouth was agape because he saw you. 

Whatever drugs he had given you to keep you relaxed had completely worn off. It kept you from fighting them when your clothes were cut off from your body. Your vision was blurry and your muscles were weak as they restrained your body. Now, clear as day you could see your captor … and his friend Peter. 

You were laid out on the bed, your hands handcuffed behind your back and your ankles tied together by a red ribbon. A red thong barely covered your lower region and a red ribbon wrapped around your front barely covered your nipples. Right in the middle of your chest was a red bow to compliment the red ball gag in your mouth. 

Peter flashed Bucky a mortified look. Bucky only sipped at his glass of beer, “Happy fucking birthday, kid,” Bucky beamed, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

It wasn’t Peter’s birthday and he was definitely not feeling thankful. Peter watched as you struggled in your bondage, frightened tears staining your cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked, his teeth gritted in anger, “I-I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“What?” Bucky sounded offended, “It’s creative! Think of it as a welcoming gift. I know you want to fuck her so here’s your chance. Fuck her and get rid of her-”

Get rid of you?

Bucky was interrupted by a muffled scream which only caused him to roll his eyes, “Or fuck her and keep her, I don’t care.”

“No, no, I’m letting her go-” Before Peter could take a step forward, Bucky’s metal arm gripped his shoulder. 

You felt relieved only for a moment.  Bucky stepped in front of him, “I’ll fuck her then, no point in letting the opportunity go to waste.”

Peter’s heart stopped, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

“You do it or I will,” Bucky said firmly, “You’re smart and I want to keep you around but if you can’t … take a few fun risks then maybe you’re not the type of person that should work for me.” Bucky’s words settled over him. Peter thought about losing this opportunity and all the money that would come along with it. Looking into your teary eyes, Peter thought about how rough Bucky would be with you. Maybe he could explain that … Peter mentally cursed. 

Peter didn’t answer verbally, only pushed past Bucky, walking towards the bed. Peter felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he stalked towards the bed, “That’s my boy,” Bucky spoke excitedly. He moved towards a lounge chair in the corner of the room, still taking swigs of his drink, “There’s no point in asking. If you want it, take it. Now put on a good show for your dear boss.”

Peter knew there was no going back now. He reached out to touch your arm, only to have you flinch away from his touch. Peter had imagined touching you for the first time and it was nothing like this. Peter turned that sadness to anger in order to fuel his adrenaline. 

Peter undid the ribbon around your ankles first. As soon as they were free, you were struggling against him. Peter was much stronger than you assumed and held you in place easily. Next, he moved to your gag, “Pl-Please don’t hurt me,” You begged, your voice hoarse. 

You saw something in his eyes similar to regret. Regret for the inevitable. As you shook your head, he said, “I won’t. Just … just don’t struggle,” He tried to assure you but as he moved your body over the edge of the bed, parting your legs and settling between them, you panicked again.

“Peter, please don’t.” He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips and you thought for a moment that you had gotten to him. He paused for a moment, only for a moment, before lifting his shirt above his head. He leaned his body over yours, his mouth brushing over your ear.

“Trust me, you don’t want him touching you. Just relax,” A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head. Your scared eyes connected with Bucky’s and he smirked. It seemed the two of you were his sick entertainment for tonight. Your breathing was heavy but you tried to keep your muscles calm. 

You tried to convince yourself that Peter was the better option. He was your age and he didn’t have that evil look in his eyes. You hated that you preferred him. You hated that you were preferring this. 

Peter placed soft kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. It baffled you that you got the feeling that he wanted to be gentle with you. You were ready to jump out of your skin when you felt your panties being moved to the side but you were interrupted by Peter’s lips crashing onto yours. 

Soon, you felt him at your entrance, teasing your opening. You gasped against his lips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You wanted him away but you still found that your legs wrapped around him for support. 

Peter moved his lips against yours and you felt his own body shudder as your warmness wrapped around his length. He started to move in and out of you and it took you time to get used to the invading feeling. As Peter kissed your tear-stained cheeks, you bit down on your bottom lip. His pace quickened and wished desperately that your hands weren’t handcuffed behind you. 

“Y/N,” He grunted into your ear as he made long, deep strokes inside of you, “Fuck, I’m sorry… y-you feel so good.”

As he pushed deep inside of you, your head tilted back and a frustrated moan escaped from your throat. You hated that he was making you feel good too. You felt his hand running up your thigh  and then it was between your leg, slowly rubbing that sensitive bulb between your legs. That was enough to have you moving your hips against him. 

Bucky watched intently, the blood rushing to that area between his legs. He’d keep you in mind when he was deep inside Brock’s sister. 

“Ah, ah,” Peter kissed you, swallowing your moans as you both climaxed together. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to finally gather the courage to ask for your number towards the end of the semester. You were supposed to text back and forth for a few weeks and then go on a few dates. You were supposed to fall for each other the natural way. 

Bucky had stolen all that. 

As Peter pulled up his pants, zipping them up, Bucky stood from his chair, “That was moving. Very romantic,” By his tone, Peter could tell the man was hoping for something for brutal. Peter scowled at his boss, “I knew deep down you were a ladies man-”

Peter interrupted, venom in his tone, “What do you want me to do now?”

Bucky only chuckled, “Nothing like some emotional trauma to toughen someone up,” He patted Peter’s shoulder as he made his way to the door, “Why don’t you buy her dinner and then take her home? You can take my car.”

“That’s fucking it? After all that?”

Bucky turned his head as his hand grabbed a hold of the doorknob, “She knows what’ll happen if she runs to the cops. Welcome to the team, Parker.”

+

hope you enjoyed!!

[fangirleaconmigo]

You’re welcome! Ahhhh so glad so glad.

I also LOVE when Regis calls him “our minstrel”. I feel protective of people twenty years younger than me, I can’t imagine walking around 400 some years older than my friends 😂. The perspective Regis must have. And that’s a sweet thought to think he might remind Regis of someone in his past.

And as for Dandelion’s personality, I have also seen a lot of people headcanon him as ADHD. His additional traits, especially the fact that he was thought of poorly by his professors (lazy, rake, etc) but then walked in the day of the exams, aced them, graduated summa cum laude and was offered a teaching position, it feels quite familiar. He’s chronically underestimated which is a very common experience for ADHD people as well. So, autistic and ADHD readers often see themselves in him!

The ironic thing of course is that on the surface, and in ‘normal’ society Dandelion has more privilege and is afforded more “normality” by society than all of them put together. Girls swoon, fans praise, and his status gets them out of scrapes. (Of course his behavior is usually what gets them into the scrapes) But he is a gorgeous blonde famous minor noble.

And yet he left and changed his name and gave it all up. And for a time, Geralt tells Angoulême at the end of Tower of Swallows, Dandelion did not run in high society like he does by that time.

It’s like he left, gave everything up, lived socially in the gutter, and it was his success in poetry and singing that puts him back in high society.

So he clearly left home and changed his name and moved in the lowest social rungs for a reason. (Fans can fill that in, it’s prime real estate) He Chooses instead to be on a terrifying, horrifying, brutally violent quest with Geralt. It doesn’t seem like a rational choice at first blush. Like when Milva meets him, the first thing she does is look around at the corpses and the vomiting poet and is like…*gestures at the soft blonde man* what is this man *doing* here?

(ETA the quote from) Baptism of Fire

Milva yanked an arrow from another of the dead bodies and examined the bloody arrowhead. Dandelion mumbled incoherently , bent over in a courtly-but-somewhat quavering-bow, then dropped to his knees and vomited.

"Who's that?" the archer asked, wiping the arrowhead on some wet leaves and replacing it in her quiver. "A comrade of yours witcher?"

"Yes. His name's Dandelion. He's a poet."

"A poet," Milva watched the troubadour wracked by attacks of dry retching and then looked up. "That I can undersand. But I don't quite understand why he's puking here, instead of writing rhymes in a quiet spot some where...."

Indeed! There’s are layers under there we can guess at. And when he is with the hansa, you can see there are all these traits he has that are totally oblivious to social cues. For someone so socially successful in the larger sense, he is not actually able to read a room or conform.

A lot of that is probably for humor sake, but it is also quite a well developed part of his personality, being socially successful but somehow socially inept as well.

I’m always a sucker for those characters too, the ones who don’t fit where they’re born and pay a steep price to get out and are rewarded with a found family that loves them. (Gee why do I like that, no reason I’m sure) The ones who fit outwardly but not inwardly (goddamnit I’m calling my therapist)

And Regis is absolutely the member of the hansa who is the most patient with him and accepting of him when he can’t read a room or when his curiosity and feelings outweigh social conventions for him.

The good thing about fantasy epics is that you have so many tidbits about characters you can headcanon in a lot of different directions.

And the witcher books characters always have a lot of layered traits that are even often in tension witch one another, so they feel real, and are fun to examine and play with both in meta and fic.

I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]

Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.

Dandelion and Friendships

For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.

I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:

Dandelion and Ciri

Dandelion and Zoltan

And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.

Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)

What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 

On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:

insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),

hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)

his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)

the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth

Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.

Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.

Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 

Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.

Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.

Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)

Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.

Here’s a few examples.

When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.

But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.

But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.

Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)

Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....

“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”

And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)

But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.

(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)

“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”

Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 

“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”

“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”

Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.

I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.

“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”

The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.

But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)

“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”

Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.

However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 

“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”

Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.

“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”

Baptism of Fire 291-295

That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.

Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.

Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.

And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.

Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)

"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”

He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.

“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”

“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”

Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.

“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”

P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow

I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)

Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.

Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.

But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.

Dandelion freezes.

It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.

Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.

lmaooo

And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.

“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.

They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,

“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.

The Tower of the Swallow p 182

It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.

Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.

It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.

It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)

So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.

Hope your week goes really well. x

[jaskierswolf]

My dearest darling Wolfie, I saw your idea for game gerlion friends to lovers in @thewitcherbog horny chat and I am here to ask you to write the fic. Pls 💜😘

Tada!! I can't remember if this was exactly what I had planned... but it's what we're getting. Lovingly beta'd by @comfyswitcherblanketfort.

CW: probably rated M? Briefly mentioned masturbation more horny than smutty.

____

A retirement at Corvo Bianco had never been what Geralt expected of his life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told a young Dandelion that witcher’s never retire, but in recent years between looting caves and haggling for contracts, he’d managed to save quite a bit of coin. He was, objectively, rich. He had the best armour on the Continent, the most deadly swords and crossbow bolts, and thanks to B.B., his house was beautifully decorated, with the exception of the rather garish portrait of his most loyal friend. Yet, he was still gaining more money than he knew what to do with. He’d started investing in merchants and refusing payment but the vineyard brought in a steady income and Geralt had to admit that his life was pretty luxurious these days.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when Dandelion had turned up, in fine, brightly coloured silks and the elegantly decorated elven lute from so many years ago. Geralt sometimes wondered whether Toruviel had enchanted her lute. There was barely a scratch and Geralt couldn’t even recall Dandelion ever having to change the lute strings in all the years he’d known the bard. Geralt was no expert but he was pretty sure that you were supposed to change the lute strings.

The sun was shining over the fields of Corvo Bianco, and Geralt felt at peace. Perhaps that was why he was feeling so nostalgic, pondering over the events that had led him to this moment. His life had always been so busy, but with Ciri off touring the multiverse, and Yennefer doing whatever Yennefer did these days now the Djinn wish had been broken, he was… well… bored? He had every Gwent card currently made, and no one would play him. It was just him and the bard, living the bachelor’s life in Touissant.

So was it any wonder that Geralt had started to develop feelings for his friend? Perhaps they’d always been there, clouded by the wish that tied him to Yennefer, or perhaps their newfound domesticity had awoken something in Geralt that he had never expected. Dandelion spent a lot of time in the makeshift study, working on his latest book, but they always ate together and sometimes the bard would even accompany Geralt on his contracts in the fields, for old times sake. After long nights of drinking too much wine or vodka, it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to fall asleep together, curled up in one bed just like they used to in their youth. Those were Geralt’s favourite nights, because despite his protests of being better alone, he enjoyed the familiar warmth of another body pressed against his, and Dandelion had always been a cuddler.

And as if on cue, the bard burst through the doors onto the patio where Geralt was watching the world go by.

“Ah, Geralt, old friend, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dandelion announced with a flick of his wrist. “I was just in town.”

“Dandelion,” Geralt groaned. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Dear Henrietta will forgive me in time, my friend,” Dandelion winked, his tongue flicking out between his lips, “and until then I have plenty of friends who will offer me shelter if the guards are around.”

“You look like a man sized peacock,” Geralt scoffed. “How the hell does no one see you?”

“Ah, dear witcher, you forget that I used to be a spy,” Dandelion laughed, putting one hand on his hips. “Now, stop interrupting, Geralt, or do you not care about the gift I picked out for you in town today?”

Geralt hummed, knowing that it didn’t really matter whether he cared or not. Nothing would stop Dandelion once he was in the middle of a story. Some things just never changed. “Go on.”

Dandelion beamed, and from behind his back he produced a wooden box. The poet cocked his head as he opened the lid, revealing a set of tiny vials neatly lined up. Geralt almost choked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oil?” he spluttered. A man such as Dandelion had to know of the more promiscuous uses of oil. Whilst Dandelion had never explicitly said as such, the way he talked of his lovers had always led Geralt to believe that he was rather flexible in his tastes, much like Geralt himself.

The poet blushed as he pulled a single vial from the box, his long lutist fingers wrapping around the glass. “Bath oils, Geralt.”

“Oh, of course,” Geralt cursed internally. Dandelion had bought all sorts of expensive oils and lotions when they had been on the path together, neither of them were shy with their bathing habits and the poet was a highly skilled masseur.

Which was not helping Geralt’s sudden rush of arousal as he remembered the feel of the poet’s hands on his skin. They’d laughed off awkward erections in the past, it was just a thing that happened… but Geralt was starting to wonder what would happen if, for once, they let it happen.

“This one will probably be a bit much for your witcher senses, my friend, but I rather like it,” Dandelion continued, oblivious to Geralt's inner turmoil. “This one,” another vial was plucked from the box, “however, I think you will like, and I managed to buy this,” Dandelion pulled a scroll from his pocket, “from a local mage. It’s supposed to move the water around the tub, like a massage!”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes. As much as he adored his old friend, the man could take his sweet time getting to the point. It was even worse when the poet and Regis got together, Geralt honestly thought he might never know peace again.

“Because, Geralt, I am treating my dearest friend to an extravagant bath time experience!” Dandelion exclaimed with wide arms, almost knocking off his own hat in his enthusiasm. “Friendship and love, art and wine, Geralt. What more could you want in life?”

Love.

No, friendship. Geralt needed to focus on that. How many times had Dandelion called him his friend? Too many to count.

“Assuming you have wine, what’s the art?” Geralt smirked, enjoying the offended noises Dandelion made.

“Geralt, I’ll have you know that-”

“Relax, Dandelion. I’m teasing. So how about this bath then?”

The two men made their way upstairs, peeling off their outer clothes as they strolled past Geralt’s bedroom, and picking up a robe each. Dandelion had filled the room with candles, and there was a soft floral scent hanging in the air, roses, the oil vial that Dandelion had initially held up.

“I thought this one was too much for my ‘witcher senses’?” Geralt scoffed, peering at the magically bubbling water.

“Well, yes, but I did also say I liked this one, and I’ll admit that I got a little carried away. You don’t mind, do you Geralt?”

Geralt shook his head as he stripped off his final layer of clothing and settled into the tub. Dandelion sat in a chair, still wrapped in his robe, and picked up his lute. He plucked idly at the strings until he was seemingly happy that they were in tune, and then he began to sing. Geralt sighed as he sank deeper into the hot water, the enchantment really did feel like a sort of massage as jets of water pulsed against his skin, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The oils, the candles, the romantic ballad…

Was his friend trying to tell him something?

It was time for Geralt to test the waters as it was. He trod the water with his hand, gently splashing to the beat of Dandelion’s song. Normally, he would close his eyes and let the poet’s music fill the room, but instead he was mesmerised by the way Dandelion’s finger caressed the lute strings. Geralt could feel his cock harden as he pondered what other uses his friend’s delicate hands could have, the way they found their mark with such precision. The poet could make any instrument sing to the gods in his hands, Geralt was sure that he was no exception.

“Practicing your fingering?” he asked Dandelion with a tilt of his head.

The strings twanged unpleasantly, making Geralt grimace as the sound reverberated in his head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Geralt smirked. “On your lute.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Dandelion muttered. “I’m just trying to figure out the next verse. I could use a hand, or an ear if you’d be willing to help.”

“I have a hand you could use, or two,” Geralt muttered not really intending for Dandelion to hear him but the poet had sharp ears and he spluttered incoherently as he set down his lute.

Geralt hummed and let his hand drop beneath the water, stroking his cock lazily. He wasn’t really chasing any real pleasure, but it was a good feeling, sending warmth across his skin. The bath, the candles, the song, they had to mean something even in Dandelion’s subconsciousness. The man was an insatiable flirt, and yet never seemed to notice when others’ affections were cast upon him, not unless it was blunt in its honesty.

So Geralt would be blunt.

He closed his eyes as he continued to stroke the length of his cock, the motion causing the water to ripple slightly, but not yet enough to draw Dandelion’s attention. The poet was too busy wittering on about his rhymes, only noticing when Geralt’s breath hitched as he cupped his balls.

“Geralt?”

“Dandelion,” Geralt grunted softly, his pleasure beginning to build from a warm ember to a roaring blaze that burned through him. The poet’s cornflower blue eyes were on him, dark and hungry. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and it seemed his dear friend was finally catching onto what was happening.

“I- I can leave, my friend, if you would prefer…”

“Stay,” Geralt insisted. “This not what you had in mind?”

“Well,” Dandelion laughed. “I had hoped, but I never thought it would actually happen, and well, really I thought it might take a little more convincing. Who knew all I needed all along were a few cheap candles?”

“Just get in the bath, Dandelion,” Geralt growled.

“Okay, okay,” Dandelion said with a roll of his eyes but shrugged out of his robe, allowing Geralt to admire his slender form. The poet’s cock remained soft as he stepped into the water. “So… how long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have I been more than just a friend to you, Geralt?” Dandelion asked, settling into the water with a soft moan. His hands resting on Geralt’s thighs, fingers drawing patterns on Geralt’s skin under the water.

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. Could he even pin it down? Geralt wasn’t sure.

“Hard to tell, our friendship has never exactly been normal, Dandelion,” Geralt admitted.

Dandelion laughed, leaning forward in the tub, his hands stroking up Geralt’s thigh, the movement forcing the air from Geralt’s lungs. “You know, you’re right, and I think we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Mhmm, and how about we start with a kiss?” Dandelion winked, before falling into Geralt embrace with a splash.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) Captain Rex x Reader: To Follow Where the Heart Leads PART 2

Taglist: @rollyjogerjones , @neekid 

Part 1

   “Rex, can you watch him for a second?” you called from the kitchen.  “I seriously need to pee.”

   “Sure, __________.  I’ll be right there,” he called back.

   You lifted the lid of the stew pot, watching the steam waft into the air, and set it back down with a satisfied nod.  You had fed the animals in the barn, dinner would be ready soon, and Rex had said that the window frames would be done shortly. It would be a nice, quiet evening with the baby after a long day.  That was one thing you and Rex really loved about running your own small farm; both of you would be working together and never too far from each other or home.

    Rex walked in, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead which was glistening with sweat.  Immediately, the toddler who had been sitting in his high chair playing with a toy saw Rex and dropped said toy onto the floor.  A smile spread across Rex’s face as the little one reached for him with a winning smile of his own.

   “Come here, Regis.”  He moved to unbuckle him from the high chair when you chuckled.  Rex looked at you with eyes wide questioningly.  “What?”

   You observed his palms that were darkened with dirt and chipping paint, eyes flickering back up to meet his playfully.  “You might want to wash those first before touching the baby.”

   “Oh, right.”  Rex hurried over to the sink, and Regis started fussing in his chair at the realization he wasn’t being picked up yet.  

   You knelt down to grab the toy that had already been forgotten on the floor.  “Daddy will be right there.  He’s just got to wash his hands,” you cooed as you handed it to him.  Just then, Rex had finished toweling his hands dry and was already unbuckling Regis from the high chair.

   “Hey there, little man.”

Regis held up his pudgy hand and smiled again, showing off the two teeth on the top and on the bottom that had grown in.  He uttered a tiny, “hi” in that baby voice of his, making you and your husband melt.

   “That’s right,” you laughed.  “‘Hi!’”

   Rex chuckled as he brought Regis into his arms.

   “Thank you, sweetheart,” you told him quickly.  Your need for a bathroom break ahad become seriously urgent.  “Also, make sure that soup doesn’t boil over.”

   As you headed for the refresher, you could hear Rex’s voice talking and Regis responding in that nonsensical babble he had started up recently.  You had imagined what it would be like to raise a baby and see him or her grow into a toddler, but you hadn’t expected to feel such mixed emotions.  On one hand, it gave you joy each time Regis reached a new milestone, and you couldn’t wait to be able to read books with him and have conversations.  On the other hand, you found yourself tearing up each time he outgrew an outfit.  It would make you think of the days he was small enough to be cradled against your chest with one arm, and it felt like the days were going too fast.  Eventually he’d be old enough for Rex to give him driving lessons on a speeder.  That was down the road, but some days it felt like it’d come way too quickly.

   You emerged from the refresher, stretching your arms and yawning.  Rex was in the other room still talking to Regis, so you decided to take a peak in the living room to see his progress.  Rays of golden light poured in through the glass windows.  Most of the frames had been done already: only one remained unfinished.  The weather was warm enough to leave the ones that had been complete open.  A gentle breeze blew in, ruffling the curtains and cooling your skin.  You shut your eyes and listened.  You listened to the leaves rustling like flimsi pages outside.  You listened to the creak of wood as footsteps approached.

   An arm slipped around your waist, and you opened your eyes to see Rex standing there with Regis on his other arm.  You brought your hand up to rest on the one which rested on your hip.

   “This is great, Rex.  It looks great.”

“It’s going to look even better when it’s done,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your temple.  You smiled under his affectionate gaze and reached over to tickle your son’s foot.  Regis grinned and extended an arm in your direction.  “You want Mommy?”  Rex turned to transfer him to your arms.  “Of course you do.  I don’t blame you.”

   You rolled your eyes playfully when he winked at you.  “Alright Captain, move along.  Dinner should be ready.”  You gave his side a nudge with your hip.

   The Clone Wars were over, and the Empire had an iron grip on the galaxy.  Even so, the farm seemed to be a little slice of life outside of all that.  The Republic’s fall had been tragic, but you and Rex had found a way to live on the brightside.  He was no longer a soldier obligated to fight.  Perhaps someday that would change if enough people rallied to stand against the Empire; but that would be Rex’s choice and not something he’d be forced to do.

   With another soft breeze carrying into the kitchen, you got a plate of fruits and vegetables for Regis to enjoy while you and Rex had stew for dinner.  Rex ladled some into a bowl for himself and then for you before bringing them over to the dining table.

   “Okay, kiddo,” you said.  “Back in the high chair.”

   Regis saw the food waiting for him on his tray table and didn’t protest as you buckled him in again.  “Dadadadadadada,” he babbled in contentment.

   Rex leaned over to capture your lips in a short but sweet kiss before taking a seat at the table.  “Love you.”

   You took your seat across from him, smiling.  “Love you too.”

Author’s Note: So, Rex is latin for “king” and I just wanted to brighten your day by noting that Regis is indeed latin for “of the king.”  You’re welcome!

[secret-engima]

So in the Future's blurry verse, how does Regis react when he meets Glaucus and co?

When he actually figures out he's related to Glaucus? Badly. He’s confused, and kinda hurt, and also a panic because HE HAS AN OLDER BROTHER?

Glaucus is dying inside. He was approached by the local Hunters to see if he and his little group would mind acting as guides for some city folk hoping to get a look at some of the old Solheim ruins. He naively assumed they were photographers or something. But no, it’s REGIS. Regis and his Retinue, and just looking at them feels like being stabbed, and that’s without so much as glancing at the young Cor, who watches them with burning eyes Glaucus knows too well.

Ardyn is dimly amused, and curious to meet another LC, even if it’s in secret. Miss Scientia has already set up shop as Insomnia’s underworld CEO by this point I think, so atm the group is just Glaucus, Ardyn, Besithia, and Titus.

Titus and Cor pick a fight with each other in about two minutes of meeting. But we’re not here for those shenanigans.

Glaucus is ... noticeably cold and brisk with Regis and co, but he did give his word to guide them, he’s not abandoning that just because he thought they were someone else at the time. Regis attempts to make friends, drawn to Glaucus and Ardyn without really knowing WHY. Clarus hates it, because he doesn’t trust these strange people who watch them with either burning curiosity or glacial cold.

Regis is hoping for a guide to the Solheim ruins so that he can retrieve a missing Lucii weapon. Glaucus remembers this. He remembers how they hadn’t had a guide and had only stumbled on the ruins by accident. He remembers how they almost died deep in the dungeon with its twisting maze of moving blocks and never did get that blasted sword.

But now he’s here. And even though he is Glaucus now, he time traveled to SAVE Regis and Noctis. To protect them. He cannot turn his back on them.

Regis and his Retinue enter Costlemark Tower, and Glaucus, Ardyn, Besithia (who vocally demands samples of any new daemons they find, much to Weskham’s and Clarus’s confusion) and Titus come with him. Glaucus already has a sword on his person, he has no intention of revealing his magic, and Ardyn is very good at keeping his a secret. There’s more of them now. Maybe he can either talk Regis out of this early, or get the sword without almost dying.

They do get the sword.

Regis almost dies.

He might have actually died if Glaucus hadn’t been there. If Glaucus, falling back into being Cor a little too easily and a little too hard, hadn’t stepped in the way of the blow. But his angle was poor and rushed, his stance with only one sword wasn’t enough to hold back the massive jaws of the beast that lived in the heart of Costlemark Tower.

Regis turns around to Clarus’s angry shout from where he’d been knocked away by the beast’s tail, he turns around expecting to see teeth closing around him and instead he sees silver. Ghostly blades and snarling, roaring silver magic and the back of their guide who has been so gruff yet also so steady a fighter at Regis’s side. Regis barely has time to stagger beneath the realization, to stare. Then he has to fight again, because no monster has the patience for Regis having a crisis over a long lost family member.

They kill the beast and claim the sword and when they are finally back out in the sunlight Regis grabs Glaucus’s sleeve before he can flee and breathes, “You have magic. You- you saved me with magic.” Glaucus refuses to look at him, his back is tight as a wire. Regis inhales raggedly, exhausted from days inside the dungeon and shaken from the memory of silver magic saving his life, “Who is your father?”

Glaucus’s shoulders tense, Ardyn and Titus watch their leader warily, ready to step in if they need to escape, but reluctant to do so.

“You know who he is,” Glaucus finally growls out, and the tired venom in his voice (over lying to his king and his once-best friend, but Regis doesn’t know that) burns something in Regis’s soul.

Glaucus yanks his arm out of Regis’s grip, Regis still follows him even as he tries to leave, “Why didn’t you- if you presented your magic at the Citadel you would have-.”

Glaucus thinks of doing that, of what would have happened if Mors had known that a seeming wayward blood child existed and his body goes cold. He all but snarls at Regis, angry enough that Clarus grabs Regis and yanks his prince behind him. Glaucus looks away and struggles with his temper as Besithia blinks nervously and Ardyn rests a gentle hand on Glaucus’s shoulder. Glaucus, bitter and drained and too old in his soul to deal with Prince Regis’s naivety, bites out, “Ask your Sword what Mors does with spare weapons. And then think about why I wouldn’t want to say anything.”

He bolts after that. Him and his group, and they are far more used to the wilds here than the Chocobros 1.0 currently are. It won’t be the last time they travel together, fate is annoying like that, but for now Glaucus needed an escape, and Regis needed to have a long talk with Cor.

Neither side is happy by the end of the night. But Regis is determined to find this previously unknown half-brother again and befriend him. (Clarus is a garbled sigh. Regis. Regis he’s DANGEROUS and he clearly dislikes the royal family. REGIS).

[rallamajoop]

How (not) to say ‘fuck’ in Etruscan (and other things I cannot believe I spent so much time tracking down for a throwaway joke in a Witcher slash-fic)

Buried in chapter 4 of my fic Something Nice is a joke which, as much as it amused me, no-one else is going to get unless I explain it. So here we go.

For the last few people in this fandom who haven't heard yet: The Witcher 3's vampire-language is Etruscan. To my knowledge, there's never been an official statement from CDPR to confirm this, but the evidence (ie. that basically all the vampire vocab can be found in online Etruscan sources) seems pretty solid. To explain why this made me go oooooh that's so NEAT, we need a little context.

Context!

The Etruscans (in my admittedly far-from-expert understanding) were a people who lived in Italy back before the Romans got around to conquering-slash-assimilating the rest of the peninsula, and the language they spoke is one of the most frustratingly mysterious of the ancient world. Most dead languages are at least related to something modern linguists have a decent handle on, but Etruscan seems to have been related to almost nothing else spoken – it may even have pre-Indo-European roots (a whoooole other tangent I am in no way qualified to cover).

Surprisingly, we do owe our modern Latin alphabet in part to the Etruscans, since the earliest Roman alphabets were adapted from the Etruscan (who got it from the Greeks, who got it from from the Phoneticians, and so on). The Etruscans may even be the reason we're stuck with so many weirdly redundant K-sounds (not only K and C, but X and Q, which are really just 'ks' and 'kw' with an overblown sense of superiority).

But being able to sound out every surplus K-word from an Etruscan inscription isn't much help nowadays when there are no surviving Etruscan dictionaries to tell us what it actually means – not even a decent Etruscan Rosetta stone to give us a push-start. So while modern linguists may rattle off Ancient Greek fluently or puzzle out Egyptian hieroglyphs from thousands of years before the Etruscans even had an alphabet, the Etruscan vocabulary available to us nowadays remains embarrassingly limited. Bits have been figured out from context or thanks to loanword exchanges with their neighbours (plenty of ancient Greeks and Romans certainly spoke Etruscan, even if they failed to write it down), but a lot is still as mysterious to the experts as it would be to you and me.

So why to I love the idea of using Etruscan as the Witcher’s vampire-language so much? Basically, if you want a language that will sound both old and reliably alien to anyone listening to it – be they the mainstream English-speaking market or the original Polish-language audience – Etruscan is a damn good call. You're not going to have much vocabulary to draw from, but it's not like there's a lot of vampire-chatter in the game anyway. It's a cool little easter egg for fans nerdy enough to try and figure out what they're saying.

Translations and Sources

You aren’t going to find a lot of great Etruscan language sources on the web – few of the easily-discovered online sources on Etruscan vocab appear to have been updated within the last ten years, and lord knows how consistent some of these are with current scholarship (let alone how sure linguists can be about anything with a task like this). All the same, have some links you may find useful:

Etruscology – Brief, but more readable than most

Lexicons.ru Etruscan Glossary – Probably one of the best collections of many terms in one place

Maravot.com Etruscan Language pages – Hard to navigate, but gosh there are a lot of vocab here I have not seen elsewhere

Old, Tripod-hosted Etruscan Glossary – I think these are mostly just the same terms from the Lexicons page, but in harder-to-use format

Etruscan word search – Decent, but not the most extensive vocab

Introduction to the Etruscan Language – Looks to be from Maravot.com, but in pdf format

Paleoglot.com’s Etruscan tag – Blog by an actual linguist who regularly discusses Etruscan material, and who even created their own translation applet! – which was, unfortunately, in flash, and is thus no longer usable. (There is a certain irony that even the tools available online to help you understand Etruscan are written in a language that is now no longer supported or understood by any modern browser.)

Not that translating what’s in the game is going to be easy, oh no. Take, for example, the oh-god-please-don't-kill-me ceremonial greeting Geralt has to offer to the Unseen Elder to survive that meeting – "Eclthi, lautni ama".

'Eclthi' is apparently a "demonstrative (locative)" (’here’, ‘there’, etc). "Lautni" is trickier – it means a freed slave, but may also imply a familial relationship or a client of sorts, while the root “lautn” apparently designates simply “possession.” House slaves in the ancient world were often considered part of the family, and freed slaves were an important class in many ancient cultures, who often maintained relationships with their former masters, so you can see the internal logic, but what sense was the Witcher using it in? It’s hard to know.

"Ama" is possibly worse – most translations seem to have taken it as "to be", but sometimes also “to love”, or even "now" or  "meanwhile." Then you hit the question of Etruscan grammar, and I have no idea where I’d even start. So, with a little creativity, you could probably translate that phrase as anything from "take this and consider me a friend" to "meanwhile, this is family" to "a demonstration of love from your slave." I mean, you've got the same general theme going there regardless, but there's a lot of ambiguity in the inflection.

For what it's worth, I feel garasham's translation efforts are easily the most convincing I've seen – they have the above line as “Here I am a slave / a friend / kindred” FWIW. (Mind you, given the wiki doesn't even try to do more than offer you one possible meaning for each word, there's not exactly much competition out there).

So, bringing this all back to that fic and how to say ‘fuck’ in Etruscan...

I've already gone to the web's Etruscan dictionaries once while I was writing Forget-Me-Not, seeking inspiration for a 'real' name for "the Queen of the Night" from the first Witcher game. Neither 'queen' or 'night' got me far, but the Etruscans did apparently have a goddess of the moon called 'Aritimi, Artume or Artames', which worked pretty well. If anything it's almost too close to the better-known Greek goddess Artimis, who was obviously a relative (ancient cultures bleed into each other even when they're not bleeding all over each other, nothing new there), but I'm not going to be picky.

However, being a) a giant nerd, who b) writes a lot of smut, and c) is no more mature deep down inside than the rest of us, I couldn't resist seeing if I could find some slightly more obscene vocabulary. Did the Etruscans have a word for, say, 'fuck'?

Alas, if they did (and I mean, they totally did, c'mon), the web wouldn't tell me about it. Nor could I find much else relating to sex or genitalia (male or female), or even a decent word for 'thrust'.

On the flipside, there were a couple of different terms meaning 'plough'. And anyone who's played – well, any of the games, but especially Witcher 2 – would probably realise exactly why that filled me with so much glee.

Speaking of which, here, have a picture which is in no way related:

The fact that the various Etruscan terms meaning ‘plough’ could also apparently be translated as things like “to worship“ or “to act through movement, including ritual acts,” or that an important mythological figure was “a prophetic child who sprang from a freshly plowed furrow” was in no way discouraging.

The word I ultimately picked was 'esari'. Admittedly, variations on the prefix ‘ar-’/‘ara-’/’aras’ were much more consistently attested to throughout the various online Etruscan dictionaries as ‘terms meaning plow’, but figuring out how to convert an Etruscan prefix into a satisfying word is officially where even my enthusiasm for all this nonsense gives out. Esari was, by comparison, already a much more solid-sounding term, so let’s go with that.

Why go to all this trouble anyway? Well, the honest answer is “entirely for my own amusement”, but the nominal excuse comes right back to “so I could give Regis and Geralt this little exchange during a sex scene.”

"Unless you have any particular objection," said Regis, moving to straddle Geralt's body, "I thought we might engage in some esari... hm, what was the equivalent term in your language again?" The vampire leaned in close to Geralt's ear as he made a show of remembering his answer, "Ah, yes—I thought I'd fuck you."

Never let anyone tell you you never learnt anything from porn!

[glon-morski]

On Noctis’ Injury And Its Effects On His Magic

A̷ ̷f̷i̷l̷l̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷k̷i̷n̷k̷m̷e̷m̷e̷,̷ ̷I̷ ̷g̷u̷e̷s̷s̷.̷.̷.̷?̷

Anyone who has played FFXV knows that as a child, Noctis suffered from an injury that rendered him unable to walk for a while – the reason for his visit to Tenebrae as a kid, and thus his first meeting with Luna shortly before Tenebrae fell. The Brotherhood anime and Kingsglaive movie expand on it a little bit, giving more information on the extent of the injury, as well as what caused it: a daemon called the Marilith. As a reminder, I mean this thing:

The injury was severe enough that Noctis remained in a coma for an unspecified amount of time (though most likely at least a couple weeks, if not a couple months) and even once he woke and recovered a bit, he was unable to walk, his legs being paralyzed (or he was literally paraplegic, meaning paralyzed from the waist down; that’s a valid possibility as well, and an even more likely one all things considered). Furthermore, it is a widely assumed headcanon (and rather heavily implied, though never actually stated in the game) that he was infected by the Starscourge through this injury. For these reasons, he was taken to Tenebrae so the Oracle may heal him, though this led to Niflheim attacking and conquering Tenebrae as a result.

Well, fine, he was healed. That’s that then. Except it’s not, according to Noctis’ character sheet in the game’s archives.

“An injury incurred as a young boy deprived him access to the full potential of his innate power”, huh?

Unless there was another ‘childhood injury’ that we don’t know about, which is unlikely, this references the Marilith. And that injury, though healed by the Oracle, apparently left marks deep enough that it affected Noctis’ ability to use his magic. But that begs the question: how exactly was he affected? No part of the game or the anime or ANYTHING gives us any real indication on that. So all we can do is speculate. That said, here are some thoughts I had on the matter.

1 – Warping

Noctis can warp. That’s obvious to anyone who played the first five seconds of the game’s gameplay or watched the first minute of the brotherhood anime. It’s one of the basic abilities he should have as a royal, of course he learned how to warp.

Here’s the thing, though: just because he can doesn’t mean it was (or still is) easy. In fact, Noctis had experienced uncommon difficulty in mastering this skill, as stated in the book/script ‘Prologue: Parting Ways’. Ignis outright says there that Noctis actually only mastered warping recently and goes as far as to speculate that his difficulty in learning might be connected to his childhood injury, which is as much of an indication that it’s the case as we can get since the characters visibly aren’t supposed to know for sure. Furthermore, if we consider Gameplay-Story-Integration – something FFXV does in spades, far more than I think I’ve ever seen any other game do – at the very beginning of the game, warping (and warp strikes in particular) is very costly in MP. In fact, unless you’re on a New Game+ (which doesn’t count), overusing warp strikes is the best way to end up in Stasis in only a few attacks, along with aerial combat which, surprise surprise, also makes Noctis warp and phase a lot to not fall down prematurely.

The effect lessens as Noct gains levels and thus more MP, but even late game you can sometimes end up in Stasis against stronger, aerial opponents if you’re not careful. That said, while the gameplay mechanic of gaining more MP as you level up is nothing new, here it could be explained in-story as well: as Noctis grows stronger because he’s fighting nearly every day and is thus forced to practice both his combat skills and his warping, he perfects the skill he had so he doesn’t need to use as much magic for it. He may have ‘mastered’ it before leaving Insomnia in the sense that he never fails to warp when he wants to, but for most of his journey he’s perfecting it so he can do it with more ease and using less of his reserves of Magic, and thus not fall into Stasis so easily.

Speaking of which…

2 – Stasis

Stasis is something akin to a ‘status ailment’, yet different. It’s what the state of having 0 MP is called. When in Stasis, Noctis can’t attack because he can’t summon his weapons and can’t avoid attacks well because he can’t phase, much less warp. He can’t use the magic flasks, either. The only thing he can do is run around but that, interestingly, only makes the Stasis last longer. In order to recover MP and thus get OUT of Stasis, he needs to stop moving entirely (and preferably hunker down behind a rock or something of that nature). Stasis only ends when he recovers all of his MP.

There’s a few things interesting about Stasis. The first, as I already mentioned above, is how to get out of it. You need to stop and cease moving entirely – which, if you’re in the middle of combat, is of course nothing short of idiotic. But then, since you can’t do anything anyway, Stasis is something you usually need to get out of ASAP if you’ve already failed to not fall into it in the first place. Finding a hiding spot and hunkering down helps as Noctis’ magic recovers faster that way. While there’s no indication how Stasis may feel to Noctis, however, there’s a widely-accepted headcanon that it is not pleasant. The fact that you have to stop and that crouching makes Noct recover faster lead to believing he might feel dizzy and maybe even nauseous or otherwise sick, that he as a character feels the need to sit or lie down when he ends up in Stasis. Which would make sense considering that, as far as we know, his Magic is and always has been a part of him, so having it deplete to zero is likely to not feel nice. It might be similar to when you’re anemic for the exact same reason: you need a certain amount blood and hemoglobin for your body to function properly. It’s not too much of a stretch to assume that it’s the same for Noctis and his magic power.

Noctis, however, is not the only character who may have to deal with Stasis if he’s not careful about his magic use. The others are the members of the Kingsglaive, as shown in the Comrades DLC. However, even at the very beginning of DLC, you have to try really hard to get the Kingsglaive character into Stasis. Like, fighting an aerial enemy and constantly warp striking it even though you have shuriken you can throw from a distance kind of try. In fact, in all the time I played Comrades, I only managed to get into Stasis ONCE and my reaction to it was ‘wait what? Stasis? HOW?!’ that’s how surprised I was that it actually happened, even though I theoretically knew it could. Furthermore, at no point in the Kingsglaive movie was Stasis ever so much as mentioned as far as I recall. So in this case, it is safe to assume that it’s either a case of Gameplay-Story-Segregation, or in case it’s not, that most Glaives only know vaguely that Stasis can happen, but rarely-to-never actually experience it. By comparison, early-game Noctis falls into Stasis nearly all the time (or he did the first time I played the game and before I learned to watch my MP and periodically point-warp, a tactic I largely dropped late-game and barely use in Comrades).

There’s one thing, though: magic is not a native ability of the Glaives. They get the ability to use magic by borrowing said magic from the king. Their bodies are not as adapted to it as Regis’ and Noctis’ would be by virtue of magic being an energy they don’t usually have access to. This is further reinforced by the fact that they have varying affinity for magic. So since the energy wasn’t theirs and their bodies were not meant to be able to use it, but do so anyway due to their connection to the king, it would make sense if there was a limit of how much magic they could borrow before something blocked them – either because the ‘sharing’ works by them having a certain stock which runs dry or because their bodies refuse to accept more magic from the king past a certain threshold, thus inducing Stasis. The same cannot be said for Noctis. He’s of royal blood. He was born with his ability to use magic. It’s part of him. It’s his magic, not someone else’s that he’s borrowing.

Furthermore, there is King Regis, who we know is weakening due to sustaining the Wall. He’s been weakened to the point that already at the time of Brotherhood, he lost access to his Arminger – not the entire arsenal, he can still summon regular weapons, but the Royal Arms no longer appear to him because he’s too weak. Yet even this weakened monarch withered by years of using the Ring of the Lucii is never so much as implied to experience Stasis, or to ever have experienced it. Even now, when he can hardly use magic in general, there’s nothing that may imply he’s close to or dealing with Stasis. His magic is there, he just cannot use it. But if Noctis’ father never experienced Stasis in all his life, then it would mean it’s weird that Noctis does, especially as easily as he does in early-game.

Unless, of course, his childhood injury and the Starscourge play a role in it. Hence why I believe they do.

3 – Elemental Magic

Another direct ability connected to his magic that Noctis has is his Elemancy and general spell-casting. And here’s where things get really interesting in my opinion. I’ll be breaking this into two separate parts, one about the obvious Elemancy from the game (i.e. making the magic flasks) and one less obvious aspect. Let’s start with the less obvious one.

3.1 – Elemental Deposits

In order to use elemental magic in the form of flasks, Noctis has to first store the energy from elemental deposits. These are strewn about all over Eos, most notably with one of each element (fire, ice, lightning) around every haven blessed by an Oracle. However, they’re also found in different locations to varying amounts. Mt. Ravatogh is littered with fire deposits and maybe a lighting here and there, but you won’t find any ice, which makes sense considering it’s a volcano. The cave behind the waterfall, aptly named Glacial Grotto, is littered with ice deposits and you’ll be hard pressed to find anything else (though there is exactly one fire and one lightning deposit). This implies that elemental magic is part of the very earth itself, which is important when you consider another thing:

Noctis is the only character who requires these depositis. Everyone else can cast spells ‘just like that’ as far as we know. The Kingsglaive? Both in the movie and in the Comrades expansion, they just do it. There’s not even so much as a mention of the deposits. Ignis, who’s implied to be the most magically adept of Noctis’ companions? His entire fighting style when you play him relies on elemental magic, and when you don’t play as him, he has elemental techniques to use via the tech bar like Sage Fire. He can do both whether or not Noct has stored any elemental energy himself, so it’s not connected to that.

Where, then, do these characters draw the magic from?

At first, one may think that they draw from the royal family. It’s how the Kingslaive’s abilities are explained in-game, after all. They can use magic because of their connection to the king, because the king gives them access to his own magic. The same goes for the Crownsguard, though to a lesser degree, as they don’t seem able to do much more than just conjure and dismiss weapons from the arsenal. Cor doesn’t warp once the few times he’s a guest member in your party and, unless I’m misremembering, none of the Crowsguard were able to warp in the Kingsglaive movie, either. Same for the Crownsguard enemies in Episode Ardyn. Outside the royal family, only the Glaives could do that.

So they draw their magic from their sovereign – King Regis in most cases, Noctis in the case of Ignis, Gladio and Prompto. Except we just talked about how Ignis’ fighting style, particularly when he’s the player character, relies heavily on elemental magic and he can use it whether or not Noctis has any elemental magic from deposits stored. This leads me to believe that using elemental spells is actually a two-fold job. Because the magic of the royal family is bound to the Crystal. But the elemental deposits can be found literally anywhere (even in cities in odd containers) and the kinds of deposits you find in certain terrain depends on that terrain, meaning the elemental energy is something that can be found in the earth… and by extension likely the sea and the air, too, it would only make sense.

So the royal family doesn’t actually have direct use of elemental magic, but their Crystal magic gives them a way to manipulate these elemental energies to form spells. This is further reinforced by the fact that when Noctis absorbs elemental energy, it is portrayed as colorful, smoke-like wisps or something. There’s no small flame or ice particles or sparks of electricity in the energy he absorbs (though they are there on the deposit before he starts siphoning it). That only comes when actual spells are cast. Which would mean it’s possible that whoever gets access to the Crystal’s magic via connection to the royal family gains an ability to manipulate those energies as well, and is thus capable of using elemental magic. Which would also explain why some people have more of an affinity for it than others because let’s be honest, that sounds like complicated, hard work.

As I said before, though: Noctis is the only character to actually use the energy deposits. So where do other characters grasp the elemental energy to manipulate it with the Crystal’s magic to create spells? The answer is simple: everything around them. The earth. The water. The very air. They can draw that energy from those places and manipulate it to form spells. And Noctis should be able to do the same. Yet he seems to require the deposits instead.

Could it be due to the fact that, for some reason, he lacks some aspect of his Crystal magic, be it fine-tuned control or something as simple as the instinct for it, that would allow him to weave these energies from the very air around him? Could it be that in order to grasp those energies and manipulate them, he requires a higher concentration of that energy? It seems to be the case. And by that logic, unless we assume he simply doesn’t have the affinity for magic, the only other possible explanation is his childhood injury.

But wait. One thing doesn’t add up. Noctis can use elemental spells in his parries, after all. Against certain enemies, when you block at the right moment and then press the attack button when prompted, an animation will start where Noctis counters, usually with magic. For instance, he can jump onto the flat side of a Red Giant’s sword, run up to it, up its chest, jump away and throw a fire spell at it. A similar counter is possible with one of the Niflheim machine enemies of the X generation (X-Angel or something along those lines, I think). And those counters, much like Ignis’ fighting style, can be executed whether or not Noctis happens to have elemental energies for Elemancy stored.

And that’s true. But there’s a few details to consider here. First, these counters are available against specific, late-game enemies. Besides which, no matter what the enemy’s weakness or resistances might be, Noctis will only ever use a fire spell in those parries, and not an overly powerful one, either. So going by Gameplay-Story-Integration again, this can be explained thus: by virtue of fighting and using magic far more often than he ever had to in Insomnia, Noctis eventually learned to draw the elemental energy from the air as well, but still not in what can be considered an effective manner. Especially since I’d consider fire to be the easiest spell to cast of the three (even if blizzard, by virtue of being connected to water, may be the one for which the energy is easiest to draw from the air in particular). Because lightning would be difficult to conjure from the air in general and blizzard, while probably having an amplitude of water energy that can be used, needs far more manipulation because you need to freeze it and stuff. By contrast, with fire, you just have to manipulate it enough that there’s a first spark and the rest is a chain reaction because the flames use the air (or rather the oxygen in the air) as fuel to burn. Furthermore, compared to blizzard and lightning spells, fire spells have far less of an area of effect. They’re more concentrated and thus safer to use for a counter without endangering one’s comrades, but that’s another matter entirely.

There’s another aspect of the deposits, too, namely that they’re the one thing in the game that Noctis’ companions never point out. If you pass a shop, they’ll talk about shopping or getting curatives. If you pass a haven, Gladio will often ask if you want to make camp. If you’re near a fishing spot, either Noctis or one of the others may comment on the opportunity to fish. But elemental deposits are never commented on by anyone. Almost as if they’re not seen. (Much like mineral deposits and places where you can pick up food, but admittedly, those really can be overseen. The same can’t really be said for elemental deposits, considering their glow and stuff.)

Which… actually would make sense if you think about it. Episode Gladio and Prompto were both in locations that should have been rich in deposits – Gladio’s by virtue of being a generally magical location and Prompto’s because it’s still relatively near to Shiva’s resting place, which should make him stumble upon ice deposits all over, especially considering that there were several of them in abandoned containers on the railway where the train Noctis, Gladio and Ignis were using was forced to stop (you know, that spot right to Shiva’s corpse’s head?). Yet in neither location is even one deposit to be found. Not even in a ‘yeah, there is one here, but obviously you can’t make use of it’ kind of way. Similarly, there were a couple deposits in containers in Altissia, but when you play Episode Ignis, there is not a single one. Finally, there were even deposit containers in the ruined Insomnia. I find it hard to believe those would have been brought there by Niflheim, so they had to have been there before Insomia’s fall and might even have been lying around for years. And yet you also don’t see a single one when you play Episode Ardyn. Ardyn who, being a Lucis Caelum, has access to the Crystal’s magic as well as far as we know. Admittedly, he never uses the elemental aspect, though. Actually, all he does use is warping and the Royal Arms during his final fight with Noct. Nothing else. Almost as if… as if he’s lost access to it. Maybe because of all the Starscourge he’s absorbed.

Much like Noctis, who had been infected with it to a lesser degree as a child and who thus has issues with using it as well.

But back to the deposits. One more interesting thing to note in the case of Insomnia is that these deposits lie literally in random spots among the rubble. With the addition of the Glaive Encampment and stuff in the Royal Edition, you would think there wouldn’t be deposits at least around the encampment, right? The Glaives might not need them, but still, why would they just leave them lying around in random spots like this? Especially if it was known Noctis makes use of them. Then it would have been even more logical to gather them in a safe place for him, if only to make sure they’re preserved for him to use whenever he comes back. So why wouldn’t they do that? Why just leave them? Why won’t Noctis’ comrades ever comment on them, even when you have nothing stored and they would usually remind you to maybe stock up like they do with everything else?

Simple: no one but Noctis can actually see/sense them.

As I said before, one of the possibilities of how elemental magic is weaved into spells from the Crystal’s magic and natural elemental energy is that it’s done instinctively. It’s not that the characters can SENSE the elemental energies and decide to use them. They just go ‘I need this spell’ and instinctively reach for the energies they need for it. As the energies they need are literally everywhere around them, there’s no NEED for them to be able to sense them.

But Noctis is different in that the energies flowing all around him are not enough for him to actually grasp and weave into spells. He needs spots where those energies are concentrated. Spots which he needs to FIND. And so he may have developed a sort of sixth sense, a way to sense elemental energies when they’re concentrated enough (and possibly the Crystal magic, too, because the two likely aren’t that different; the Crystal magic could even be a sort of fourth element). A way that no one else has, because no one else NEEDS to find these places. Hence why they’re only actually there in the main game, which is from Noctis’ PoV. No other character could make use of them and because they don’t even need them, no other character can even sense/see them.

3.2 – Magic Flasks

As extensively discussed above, Noctis cannot easily cast spells, not the way the Glaives or Ignis do (and his father as well before he’s been weakened by the Ring of the Lucii, at least according to ‘A King’s Tale’). He can’t draw the energy from just anywhere, it needs to be concentrated enough. Furthermore, considering you can’t draw from elemental deposits even when you happen to be right next to one in a fight (and you can do a lot of things in the middle of combat via even the main menu in FFXV) and that it’s an ability that you can ‘level up’ via Ascension, it would be safe to assume even that is not easy for him. It takes time and he needs to concentrate. Because of this, it’s very possible that the difficulty of just drawing the energy makes the simultaneous manipulation of it into a spell nearly impossible for him (the exception being the aforementioned, tiny fire spell in counters). As a result, instead of drawing energy, manipulating it and then releasing the crafted spell simultaneously like the Glaives (as well as his father) do, Noctis needs to separate the steps.

Step one has been discussed extensively above. He draws the energy from places particularly rich in elemental energy – the deposits.

Step two, an intermediate step necessary due to the apparent difficulty in drawing elemental energies, is storage. As Noctis cannot manipulate the energy at the same time as he draws it, he needs to do something with it so he can do so later. The only logical thing to do is to store it, which he does likely in his own body (as he can do it since the beginning of the game and there’s no item or anything that’s in any way required for it).

Step three: he forges the spells. Now this one is interesting, because it doesn’t seem like Noctis has much issue with this particular step. Once he has the elemental energy necessary, spell-crafting seems to be simple, at least if one looks at it once again through Gameplay-Story-Integration glasses. As stated earlier, you can’t draw elemental energy from deposits while in combat. You can, however, craft spells mid-combat via the use of the main menu. So, going by the same rules as we did for the drawing of energy, this means that crafting spells is quick, easy and doesn’t require much concentration on Noctis’ part.

Why then does he always store them in flasks? If crafting the spells is so easy, why not cast them directly from his own energy storage?

Well, another widely accepted headcanon (to my knowledge) is that Noctis can’t control the spells that well. Not in terms of crafting them, but in terms of their power and where they land. Thus, he uses the flasks to both have better control in terms of aim, as well as actual power. This idea is supported by two things.

The first is how crafting spells works. You can decide how much of each elemental energy you want to infuse into a flask and you see what the end result will be before you actually craft the spell. This is, of course, an obvious game mechanic to avoid frustration for the players so they don’t craft blindly. But it would also make sense if this was another bit of Gameplay-Story-Integration, because Noctis himself likely doesn’t craft the spells blindly hoping he’ll get the right one, either. He can either ‘sense’ what spell will come out, or he’s practices crafting spells long enough to just know from experience.

The second thing is the difference in spells between Noctis and the Glaives. Whether you look at the Comrades DLC or the Kingsglaive movie, the magic of the Glaives is far more controlled than Noctis’. It’s more focused while being just as destructive and there doesn’t seem to be nearly as much risk of getting your comrades caught up in the cross-fire, and considering I only ever played Comrades offline (meaning with AI), trust me that the difference wasn’t between actual people knowing to get out of the way. Especially since it’s not like Comrades actually has a chatting system or anything, so it’s not like you can warn anyone ‘magic incoming!’ or anything. And yet unlike the main game, your party members are never actually caught in the crossfire.

Of course, there’s one big difference between throwing a flask (which is basically a magic bomb) and casting a spell yourself, and that’s the amount of control you have over the spell at any given moment. You need to control it to cast it, control where it lands by aiming and likely control it at the very moment of casting, so when the magic is released and possibly what it considers a target, as well. Flasks remove one-and-a-half of those. Noctis still needs to control the spells when he crafts them so they don’t blow up in his face or something before he stuffs them into flasks. But he doesn’t need to keep controlling it when he aims and he literally can’t control it at the moment of casting, because that happens on its own when the flask breaks. So while the Glaives can be assumed to control even the release of the spell (exactly when it goes off, how far it reaches etc.) this is out of Noctis’ hands. Once a flask breaks, that’s it, the energy inside literally explodes outward in a big, destructive mess. And that’s exactly how Noctis’ flasks work: a big explosion of magic that decimates everything in its path.

But then we return to the question: why bother? Why not just cast from his ‘internal storage’ where he keeps the elemental energy before he puts them in flasks?

I believe that is due to the fact that casting normally would be too difficult and demand too much concentration, much like drawing the energy from elemental deposits in the first place. As I said before, putting the magic into flasks removes two steps of casting where tight control of the magic is needed: to aim and to release (and potentially to designate the targets versus the people who are not to be harmed). And that is the EASY step, as Noctis can even do it mid-combat. It’s the aiming and release that likely pose issues, which would make sense. When it’s merely in ‘wisp-form’, the energy may be more or less difficult to manipulate, but is likely easy to contain. Once it’s crafted into the spell and becomes magic, however, the actual power/strength of it likely amplifies, since you’re combining various energies together. It’s like a chemical reaction. As soon as you start mixing stuff, a kind of reaction happens and energy is released. This is likely the same. And containing that energy, that pure power that’s created when a spell is crafted, may be beyond Noctis’ grasp on his magic. Which would mean that he does not have that tight or fine-tuned a control over it. He can manipulate it to craft spells, but anything other than that is either difficult and demands a lot of concentration, or is outright beyond his capabilities.

(Again, there’s this one little spell he does in counter-attacks, but that might be about all he can safely manage.)

4 – Healing Magic

There’s one more aspect of Noctis’ magic in terms of spell-casting: healing, otherwise known as the Cure-line of spells (Cure, Cura and Curaga, as well as potentially Raise and Arise, though the latter two don’t seem to be a thing in FFXV in general). It’s the one type of magic that’s nearly entirely unavailable to Noctis.

He can’t cast healing spells. The Glaives can and do.

On the other hand, Glaives don’t use potions. I don’t think a potion, or any other kind of curative, has even been mentionned in the Kingsglaive movie (though it’s been a while since I’ve seen it so I may be wrong), and they definitely aren’t in Comrades. Curatives are something only Noctis and his companions have access to, and the description of each points out that they only work ‘by way of Noctis’ power’. So he’s the one that makes them.

The idea here is similar and yet different to magic flasks. For magic flasks, Noctis needs to gather elemental energy first. He doesn’t seem to have any need for it to create curatives. On the other hand, he can’t just stuff healing magic into a flask. He requires a medium of sorts, apparently preferably in liquid form considering he always uses various types of energy drinks. Interestingly, the potency of the curative doesn’t seem to be how much magic Noctis’ stuffs into it, otherwise they could probably buy Hi-Elixirs for the price of a mere potion, but rather what kind of medium (so energy drink) he uses. Almost like the magic he infuses it with directly interacts with the chemical contents of the medium to determine the curative’s potency. Which is, at the very least, plausible.

Here we have another wonderful bit of Gameplay-Story-Integration in that you can buy curatives of any sort nearly anywhere, up to and including Gralea. Which makes sense if Noctis himself is the one who creates them. Surely even the empire would have energy drinks for their human citizens, right? And furthermore, with the exception of one (1) cutscene in Episode Prompto where Aranea uses a curative (which, considering she’s met Noctis and the others in Tenebrae before, she might have gotten from them; even if they didn’t have enough stock themselves, Noctis could have turned all energy drinks she had into curatives to further enable her relief efforts; and let’s be honest, it’s totally something Noctis would do) no one else but Noctis and his crew ever uses curatives, or even seems to know they exist. I mean, all those hunters you rescue in random side-quests? You’d think they’d have their own potions and antidotes and stuff on them if it was something that could be bought anywhere. Except all they can buy is an energy drink. Only Noctis can actually make it into a curative.

As for actually casting a healing spell in any form, Noctis cannot do that at all. The only thing he can do is mix a curative or some food into his elemental spells to create healcast spells. (Which, by the way, is another example of magic actually interacting with matter on a chemical level or something of that nature – though it’s likely more abstract than that - to determine an additional effect. If you use other items, you get stopcast, venomcast, failcast etc.)

5 – Sharing Magic With Others

The final point in which Noctis’ injury may have affected how well he can use his magic is actually sharing it with others, the same way Regis does with the Crownsguard and the Kingsglaive. However, at first glance, in this one point, it doesn’t seem like Noctis has any difficulty compared to his father. He shares his magic with Ignis, Gladio and Prompto easily enough and they can do everything a Crownsguard is supposed to.

As stated before, the Crownsguard doesn’t seem to have that much access to elemental magic, at least going by what little we see of them in the movie and the fact that in-game, Cor isn’t very magically inclined in terms of elemancy, either. However, they can materialize weapons from the arsenal. But they can’t warp. Cor never does and neither do the Crownguard operatives in Episode Ardyn.

The Glaives (and the Royal Guard they’re derived from) can use elemental magic and they can warp (though some are better than it than others). They can also manifest their weapons, as prove in both Episode Ardyn and Comrades.

I don’t remember if it was said in the Kingsglaive movie itself or if I read about it elsewhere, but I’m pretty certain it was stated somewhere that these differences were due to how powerful the ‘sharing link’ between King and subject is. The Crownsguard, being a ‘defense and reaction only’ kind of force and derived of what used to be the Lucian army to boot, only have the most basics of links to allow them access to the arminger arsenal. The Kingsglaive, on the other hand, was meant to basically be the new Lucian army (and yet, ironically, they’re based on the former Royal Guard). They were meant not to be a defense force, but an attack force. And since most of the magic the king can make available is more attack-oriented anyway, he bestowed those powers to them.

There’s also the fact that this more powerful link is more draining, too, which was likely another reason the Crownsguard only got the bare minimum of magic access.

Thing is, Ignis, Gladio and Prompto are all part of the Crownsguard, so they should also only have this ‘basics only’ connection. And yet Ignis can use elemental magic like no other Crownsguard member. Which leads me to believe that Noctis, being young and not yet burdened by the Ring, gave the strongest connection he could to his friends, allowing them access to every aspect of his magic.

But wait. If that’s the case, why don’t the other three warp? Ever?

Well, in Prompto’s case, that’s simple. He’s only been trained for a couple of months and while he was accepted into the Crownsguard, it’s downright said at the beginning of the game that his training was more meant for self-defense than to actually protect Noctis. Ignis and Gladio, however, don’t have that excuse. Gladio in particular has been trained in combat all his life. You’d expect him of all people to know how to warp, right?

Here’s the thing though: if you look at the Brotherhood anime, then outside of the few scenes actually set after the beginning of the game, neither Ignis nor Gladio are shown to be able to use magic. Even in the scene in episode 3 (I think?) where Gladio and Noctis trained with wooden weapons, they didn’t call for them or dismiss them with magic. In Noctis’ case, he might not have wanted to or he might still have been struggling to, since he was still a teenager then. In Gladio’s case, it’s safe to assume he hasn’t had access to it at that point. Especially since neither Ignis nor Gladio wear a Crownsguard uniform in the anime.

So that would mean their link to Noctis, and thus his magic, is relatively recent. Two, three years at most. And warping isn’t something that’s easily learned. Noctis might have additional trouble with it because of his injury, but even among the Glaives there are those who warp better (Nyx) than others (Libertus, who complains it makes him nauseous and that he needs to practice more). And these are highly skilled combatants with lots of experience and decent-to-exceptional magical affinity who have likely been training for years before being sent into the field (a lot can be said about Regis, but definitely not that he would send poorly-trained soldiers into a war). So learning to warp, whether you have aptitude for magic or not, takes time. Thus it is very likely that Ignis and Gladio could learn to warp if given the time and opportunity to do so. It’s just that once they leave Insomnia, they never do.

There’s one more thing, too: Ignis has a tendency to throw his daggers in combat and Gladio often throws his sword at Noctis during training. Both ultimately end up summoning the blades back to them in the end, but there’s always a second or so of delay before they do, as if they were originally trying to do something else. Like warping after the weapon. It’s thus very possible that shortly before leaving Insomnia, they have both begun warp training, it’s just that they haven’t had the time to finish it and actually learn to warp. And then once they leave Insomnia and then Insomnia falls, they don’t get much opportunity to train. Even during the ten years Noctis is in the Crystal, or rather especially during that time. Because daemons are springing up all over, the nights are getting longer and it’s basically the apocalypse. You don’t really get the chance to learn a new skill when something like that happens, you focus on the skills you already have to better them in a way that can make it possible for you to survive. So in the end, they never really learned. And after the Dawn, they didn’t really have the opportunity to anymore.

However, looking at everything else, it’s safe to assume Noctis allows them free, full access to his magic. His ability to do so is not hindered by his childhood injury.

In conclusion:

Noctis’ injury, sustained by the Marilith and likely made worse by a Starscourge infection, affected his magic on nearly every level. It made warping (and possibly conjuring weapons and other items) more difficult for him to learn. It immensely impacted his ability to cast spells, both of the elemental and the healing variety. It made him susceptible to falling into Stasis. Almost every aspect of his magic that we know of has been affected in some way. The only part of it that still seems perfectly fine (or at least there’s no reason to believe it’s been affected in any way) is his ability to create a ‘sharing link’ to give someone else access to magical abilities.

[redboarambo]

Joy.

Elation.

Regis had surprised Aulea with a trip to Altissia, one of their favorite spots to get away. They would camp on the way, their tent several paces away from the guard, just to give themselves some more privacy. It was the time when they could mostly be themselves. In the castle, there were so many people that would interrupt and bring them back to their lives as rulers. People that wanted to vie for her husband's attention, even if they were both busy. But here?

Here Aulea could be who she wanted, and they could enjoy their time as they so wished. Especially when they weren't traveling for some royal matter, but for their own enjoyment. It was t he time that the Queen loved the most. Perhaps that's why she was humming that morning as she walked down to the stream - another reason they had stopped where they had, there was a close enough location for herking to go fishing. The though alone had her rolling her eyes, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she leaned down, gathering enough of the stream water in a bottle, and cleaning her hands, before she straightened back up.

Straightening up, she looked out towards the horizon, her lips pulling up into a smile. This was everything she had been needing. It was-

The feeling of something - someone- kicking at her ribs had the queen's hand falling down to rest on her stomach.

"I know, my darling. I'm telling him when I get back to camp. He'll be so excited to meet you."

The words were quiet, murmured to the air more than anything since the baby in her stomach wouldn't be able to hear her. She had just gotten past the first trimester and was finally at a point where she felt comfortable enough to tell Regis. It was something she had learned the hard way, waiting until she was far enough along, so she wouldn't get his hopes up. They had been trying to give Noctis, their sweet little prince, a sibling for a few years now. Finally? Finally it was happening.

All she had to do now was to tell the father.

With a soft breath, and the thumb on her finger swiping along her clothed stomach, Aulea turned and started back towards the camp.

Fear.

Anxiousness.

She only got about halfway back to the camp site when she noticed something was wrong. There was far more noise than there should have been for this early in the morning, too much yelling and a noise she couldn't register. It made her hesitate, just for a moment, before speeding up, a furrow between her brow.

When Aulea was just a turn away from being able to see their tents, through the bushes came Clarius. Normally the sight of the man would make her smile, usually she'd hold her hand out towards him for him to take. While most only knew the solider as Regis' personal guard, he was so much more to the queen than that. He was a friend. A confidant. A lover. She needed him almost as much as she needed her king.

Normally, when Clarius reached out to grab onto her shoulder, she'd lean into the touch with a chuckle. The look on his face, though, froze her to the spot. "Clarius, what's wrong? You don't look-"

"You have to go hide. We don't know if there's anymore that might show up."

"What are you talking about?" His words confused the queen, her head tilting to the side to try and see through to the camp. To where the sounds that she now registered as swords clashing had faded, replaced only by silence. "What happened?"

"Soliders from Niflheim. They came out of nowhere. We were able to finish them off, but there could be more. You have to g- Aulea!"

The queen had already took off, running down the path the rest of the way. The tents came into view and her blood ran cold when she saw the bodies on the ground. Most of them were those of the foreign tech, but she could see several of their guards as well. Her eyes ran across every face, but none of them were Regis.

Silence.

Empty.

Aulea could hear Clarius calling to her, but she ignored him as she made a straight line for her tent, throwing open the canvas flaps. The moment she saw him on the ground, she crumbled to the floor. Her king. Her husband. Father to her babies, best friend and the man that meant more to her than any title or any kingdom ever could. The blood pooling from his chest was dark against the white of his skin, eyes thankfully closed.

Pulling herself along the ground, she lost track of everything. She couldn't hear herself sobbing, couldn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her into the tent. There was no noise, nor could she feel the rocks under her palms as she reached him.

"Aulea...."

There was pain in the way the man said her name, but she didn't let it stop her from reaching out to pull Regis' head into her lap, her own moving to rest their foreheads together. "Come back. You have to come back." Aulea's voice was already hoarse from sobbing, her entire body shaking as she rocked with his body back and forth. "I'm pregnant, Regis. T-the baby needs you, Noct needs you. I...."

She broke down to the point of not being able to speak, his blood starting to seep into her clothes, staining them crimson. She was oblivious to the arms wrapping around her from behind, to the voice telling her she needed to let go.

Aulea wasn't sure how long she sat there before everything went black.

Anger.

Grief.

The next thing that she actually remembered was opening her eyes in their room. She had passed out from stress and exhaustion, sobbing and shaking on the ground of that tent. Clarius had carried her back himself, Regis being taken care of by several of the guards. There were no words spoken in the car on the way back, only the man's hand running along her back and through her hair to try and soothe her.

As if anything would make this better.

As if anything would make this go away.

Aulea shuddered as she looked a round, her cold body reminding her of the fact that everything had happened was real. Her husband was gone, the kingdom had lost their king, and Noct... the baby...

Her hand fell to her stomach, wanting to hold the little one close as she she pushed out of the room. She couldn't be in the room she shared with Regis. It was too much being able to smell him, see things everywhere that reminded her of him. Without thinking, her legs carried her through the halls to the main throne room, pausing in the middle of the room.

She didn't notice the guards hesitating by the door, obviously wanting to give her her space, but refusing to let her be alone given the current situation. Clarius was farther in the room, but even he knew not to touch the queen at the moment.

Aulea's eyes took in the banners, proudly showing off their family crest, and the flowers that were on stands through out the room. She had picked them all out herself, instructed the attendants to get them prepared while they were gone to surprise Regis when they got back. She had thought they'd have something to celebrate.

For a long moment, all she did was stare at them, feeling everything building inside of her chest. He was gone. The kingdom was going to be in chaos, and all she could feel was anger. Anger at the MT's for taking her husband and her kids father, anger that he had surprised her with this trip in the first place, anger that she had left him that morning instead of asking him to come with her.

Screaming, from as deep in her chest as she could muster, she reached for the banners and started to tear them down, knocking over the pillars of flowers to the ground. She kept screaming as she went up to the throne and hit the seat with her hands, falling down to her knees.

Aulea didn't think she stopped screaming for hours, before her voice was all but gone.

Everything was leaving. Gone. Vanishing from in front of her eyes.

And it all started with Regis.