#regis loves him dearly

[starboyjun]

batboys as brothers in a isekai manhwa

my first post, please be nice lol.

i have given a lot of thought into bruce and the robins and what type of brother they would be in a isekai family manhwa.

you are the youngest daughter in the family and recently have trasmigrated into the body of the youngest princess of wayne. you had a reputation of being a "wicked" and "brat" in the family. you decided to make sure your family loves you to avoid being killed and having a cushion if something goes wrong in the future.

so... you change and here is how i think the bruce and the robins would treat you.

included in this post: bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, timothy drake, and damian wayne.

ft. a short snippet of alfred pennyworth, cassandra cain, & stephanie brown

bruce wayne - the overprotective father similar to: regis adri floyen (father i don't want to get married)

i think bruce would be suspicious of you at first. like all horrible manhwa dads, he neglected you a lot but he has his reasons. personally, i dont think he's one to hate you if you "killed" your mother during childbirth. i think he would just distance himself. he would give you money and all the support but never be there for you. which is why you think he hates you. there is a lot of misunderstandings, but after seeing that you're making an effort to change he'll be a tsundere and be very clingy and overprotective of you. especially when it comes to potential suitors.

richard "dick" grayson - the one who always supported you similar to: raymond millainare (the tyrant wants to be good)

dick has always been a kind brother, in both lives. though when he actually found proof of you being a horrible person he sort of distanced himself from you. he wants to think you're a good person but you find ways to prove him wrong. he tries to talk to you but you hated him. so when you changed, he had a optimistic view and tried to see if you really changed. you showed how you changed and now he's back to being the brother you once had. he's overall very supportive over you and loves to spend time with you. he's not as protective as some brothers but, he has that brotherly protection. he's the person that knows you best, even knows you more than you do.

jason todd - the one who hates you the most similar to: reynold eckhart (villains are destined to die)

jason hated you, he hates everyone in the family but thats besides the point. jason is known to hate you but he actually doesn't. he secretly just hates his father for how he treated you. he knows how it feels for bruce to treat his children like mere guests at the estate. up to a point, jason never truly hated you. he just wanted to make you into a better person but you proved him wrong. he was the last to believe that you are a brat until a incident happened. then jason just ignored you. he couldn't believe it, his little sister was a brat. when you changed, jason was suspicious, he didn't know what to believe. you showed him time after time that you weren't the person you were, this took jason a long time to believe. he would probably be the last one. jason now loves you dearly and is probably the most protective over you, nobody touches his sister. jason likes to teach you self defense (against bruce's will) to make sure you know how to "kick those evil suitors ass" and protect yourself from his enemies.

timothy "tim" drake - the one who didn't know you existed similar to: cassis pedelian (a way to protect the female lead's older brother)

tim is undoubtedly the most loyal to bruce (imo) so much so that he forgot you existed (he can't forget damian bc he actively causes trouble). you don't make a big scene other than inside the castle, i feel like he helps bruce so much that he forgets about what happens outside of the office. if he's not in the office, alfred is forcing him to eat, sleep, and bath so he has no time to think of you. once you changed, he caught a wind of it from the chattering of the servants and so he decided (be honored he went outside his office for you) to investigate. he watched you in secret and even joined mealtimes to see you and observe you. tim found that he enjoys your presence and often asks for you to hangout in the office (to bruces excitement) just for your company. tim is very loyal to you too now, and would do anything to keep you safe. that includes secretly burning marriage proposals.

damian wayne - the problem child who also thinks youre a problem similar to: ixion (lord baby runs a romance fantasy with cash)

damian views everyone (with the slight exeption of bruce) as a peasant. he has a hard exterior with a inside of just wanting to prove his worth in the family. when you were born damian pretended he didnt care for you but secretly escaped his room (he was under room arrest for his last incident) to go see you while you were sleeping. as you grew up, he noticed how similar you were to him (though he grew up with his mom for most of his life) he wanted to protect you and shield you but he was afraid his "dirty" hands would taint your innocence. so he watched you from afar, watched you grow into a person too much like him, too arrogant, too reckless, too much like a brat. damian was the only person to not hate you. he just pretended to hate you. so when you changed overnight, he was suspicious, who was this person? how did my sister change overnight? so he tested you, test after test. you passed all of them with flying colors. he wanted to know more about you, instead of just staying in your shadows (plus he was jealous of his other brothers spoiling you) so "insists that you go play with him" or "insists that you hug him." he's also a very overprotective one, he's the one that dick has to tie down when you get a marriage proposal. he steals the flowers and gifts you receive and burns them (or sells them to selina for a hefty price) bonus: alfred, cass, and steph

when cass and steph visited for the weekend, they were surprised about the change in the atmosphere, no maid was sobbing or bruised up. they knew of your reputation in the castle. so they decided to not avoid you but hangout since they heard of your change by alfred. alfred sung of your praises and that you stopped damian from cutting down the bushes in the garden. once they hung out with you (besides the annoying visits of the brothers) they decided to stay for the weekend to get to know you more. after all, you're a unique child, one who will be known for generations. part two: batfam as types of isekai romance tropes

[winters-mistress]

in this life and the next

They're both watching her, Ciri knows it. Both of them have been staring since the moment they all staggered out of that gods forsaken castle, bloodied and broken and exhausted. They haven't stopped since she pushed them both onto a broken bit off what used to be a turret, before taking a couple of minutes to pace and breathe deeply, before marching silently back into that fucked up building that nobody ever should have been in.

She smashed all the windows on her way to retrieve the four bodies, carrying them all one by one, shoulders across one arm, the other hooked underneath bent knees. The sound is satisfying as she goes into each room, grounding her in the reality that she had survived another day.

The broken glass makes more blood gush out of her palms, but the injuries Bonhart had given her combined with the butchered bastards blood, they all melt together in two long, muscular arms that are covered in crumbling blood, more blood seeping onto her ripped tunic as she carries her would be father's companions out, before dragging Vilgefortz and Skellen by their heels.

They don't deserve the honour of dignity, and the girl simply piles up the bodies of the soldiers on the other side of the courtyard. Their families deserve the honour of burying them at home, because she knows now that people like this, boys too young to even fully grow facial hair, are no evil entities. Just toy soldiers born in the wrong time to the wrong king.

By the time she's finished, her would be witcher father comes over to her and hands her an old shovel, keeping one in his own hands. Together, they dig four large rectangular holes, grunting with the effort and sweating with the exertion of the repetitive digging, until the graves are deep and hollow, and the witcher's face is crumbling with grief once more.

"Sit with her." Ciri whispers to him, placing her shovel on the floor. "I can handle this part if it pains you." It's not over, nothing is. Cirilla may have overcome Vilgefortz and Skellen and Rience, but chasing Ehmyr off isn't enough, he is still a problem to be dealt with. Avallac'h and Eredin and the hunt and the elves still loom over her, and she aches with that knowledge. But, here and now, she can save her witcher father this pain by burying friends so dear they gave their lives for a girl who only one of them had ever met.

Geralt staggers off to the fractured sorceress. Gone is the beauty, her fingers are snapped and pointing in the wrong directions, her face is covered in cuts, her lip is bleeding and her nose is broken. Yennefer is no beauty in this moment, but the witcher walks to her and sits with her and places an arm over her to keep her warm as they watch Cirilla's muscles flex as she picks up Milva first, burying the brave dryad with her bow and arrows clutched in her arms. Angoulème gets her dagger, and she spares a moment for her and Cahir, when she slowly places him into his grave. A man she was so terrified of as a child, who had followed the frightening witcher and gave his life all for a girl he had spent maybe two hours with in his lifetime? The frightening feather helmet is gone, he is no looming Knight. No, he is now just a boy who was so brave, and the girl was just as strong as him. The girl was younger than Ciri, she thinks, but gave her life for her nonetheless, and her heart hurts with the grief and the unfairness of it all.

Regis is the last to be buried, and Ciri spares him a few moments to cut her palm and cover his face in the blood that the universe will rip itself apart for. Geralt says nothing at this, only getting up when all four of his friends are in the graves and his girl begins to grab her shovel once more.

"Do you want to save anything?"

"No. They already know." Geralt whispers, and Ciri nods after a moment, helping him fill the graves, not mentioning the tears that begin to roll down the witchers cheeks as he buried people he loved so dearly.

She gives him a moment with Yennefer, taking the time to split the two bodies into unnamable pieces, stamping on them and spitting and kicking as she went. They're already headless, she had thrown Bonheart, Skellen, popped back in time for Rience's and took great pleasure in Vilgefortz's heads as she threw them one at a time at the coward prick emperor who tried to turn up after the battle had ended.

These pricks don't deserve to be burned or buried, they're going to be left out for the birds, for sure enough, their stink will attract beasts alike soon enough. It suits them, she thinks, spitting one last wad of saliva at one of the chunks of enemy flesh, before turning around and walking to the soldiers.

There's no pomp or pagentry or ceremony, they're stacked underneath a tree and that is that.

Her exhaustion wanes and she struggles to make it back to Geralt and Yennefer. Her heart hurts, the truth of Ehmyr and their blood connection, fighting his army off before ripping through his mind and sending him running. It's not over, she has to go back and take his head, just as she took his cronies' and begin picking off the lodge members and the villains at the northern courts, not to mention the hunt that still walks three steps behind her wherever she goes. It's exhausting work, and she's already so tired of it, but there is no choice but to go on.

Her heart will never heal, she will never be clean of blood, there will never ve a soul that looks to her as a savour, and she will go down as just as much a villain as any who she took the life of, but this cannot be helped or changed. All she can do is clean herself up of the blood from a nearby trough of basically clean water, and stagger over to her would be parents. There's been so much time since Thanedd, it's been so long since she could be vulnerable.

"Cirilla." Yennefer's voice is soft as she looks up at her almost daughter when the girl emerges from behind the castle. Geralt looks up also, but they so not get a response, because the girl holds her hands out towards the building, and two thick streams of flame explode from her palms until the entire place is up in flames. Thick, black smoke emerges, and Ciri feels tears in her eyes as the watches it burn.

"It's the best thing for it." She whispers.

Geralt walks over to her and tucks her into his arms, pressing her head to his chest and letting her listen to his slow heartbeat, as she had as a child all those years ago.

Yennefer joins their embrace, and Ciri closes her eyes. It's been what feels like years since she did not have to be the strong one, that she could be vulnerable and not have to watch her back and enjoy the moment.

So she wraps her arms around her would be parents and just let's herself cry.

[blossom-adventures]

Tagging @hauntedadagium @seradyn and @savage-rhi thank you for the support you’ve all shown me while I’ve been working on this, I hope you all like what I have so far ❤️🖤

A Tall Glass of Red Wine

An Ardyn x Reader Fic

Ok… the prologue and chapter 1 are here, I apologise in advance if I get some of the tenses are mixed up, it’s my first proper attempt at a xReader fic so I’m still getting used to the phrasing (it’s especially difficult because I’m working on an OC story for Skyrim too and I find myself writing “her” and “she” instead of “you” sometimes) bear with me, I’m still getting used to it 😅

This fic isn’t going to be posted as consistent as my Skyrim fic, I’m not planning a schedule for posting this fic, once I have a chapter, I’ll share it

Reference of alcohol & poisoning

Prologue

King Regis Lucis Callum, of the Crown City of Insomnia rules over all of the vast kingdom of Lucis, or maybe not so vast now, Niflheim has taken control of nearly half of the kingdom. Regis, although he has a kingdom to rule, also has his duties as a father and as an Uncle, as the only 2 left of his household, he loves them dearly - in his own way. His household consists of his son Noctis - the chosen King of Light - and his niece, a young Captain in the Kingsglaive… You.

You came into your Uncle’s care after your father tried to put on the Ring of the Lucii, he wasn’t the chosen king after all, he wasn’t worthy of the Ring. With Noctis being heir to the throne of Lucis, you were expected to marry well and be a perfect wife to a high rank noble or a prince, however, you had shown such skill with a blade that your Uncle allowed you to train with the Kingsglaive. You flourished amount their ranks, climbing the ranks quickly until you became the youngest captain ever.

As you were of the Royal line your Uncle sent you off with the Marshal to collect your own set of Royal Arms. The pair of you traveled from each of the Royal Tombs to collect the power they held inside.

Once you and the Marshal returned you were sent out again within the week to lead your Glaives on a infiltration mission into Empire controlled lands.

“Stay safe,” King Regis said to you as you prepared to leave “and don’t use your Royal Arms in Niflheim controlled lands, if they found out who you were…”

“I know Uncle, I’ll be back soon, I’m sure” you gave him a warm smile, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze

“Y/N, come on, we need to go!” You look over your shoulder at one of the other Glaives, you look back at your Uncle and he forced a smile before letting you go, you walk down the steps of the Citadel and join your fellow Glaives. A simple infiltration mission, what could go wrong?

Chapter 1 - The Poisoned Glass

Working as a servant in the Niflheim Royal Palace wasn’t what you had ever wanted to do, Niflheim was the enemy, you belonged in the Crown City of Insomnia, but you, and so many others were prisoners of war, made to serve the Empire, and you thanked the Gods everyday that your identity had been kept quiet so far, no one seemed to know who you were.

Magitech guards kept watch on the servants in the Emperor’s palace, programmed to ensure that no Lucian in the employ of the Empire did anything to harm the people they now served, there had been attempts, you knew of at least 2 men who had disappeared over the last month, that knowledge alone was enough to keep you loyal, as much as you hated the idea.

Most days you worked as a maid; cleaning the palace, taking the belongings of visiting dignitaries to their guest rooms or - as it was tonight - serving drinks in one of the many ballrooms. The men and women who were guests of the Emperor were dressed to impress, the women wore incredibly tight looking dresses that you thought looked very uncomfortable, and the men wore their finest suits… all but one at least.

The Chancellor, despite his high rank, never wore fine suits… that wasn’t to say that his outfit was dull, far from it; his black leather, ankle length coat was always worn, as was his hat and red scarf, even in the height of summer, as it was tonight. You had heard people comment on it too, although you knew that none of them would say anything to him directly, the man was an intimidating figure.

He was leaning against the wall, looking out at the party from under the rim of his hat as you passed him

“Do you have red wine with you?” He caught your attention with a snap of his fingers as he spoke

“I’m afraid not, Chancellor Izunia” you say as you approach him “only champagne, I’m sorry”

“Pity… I suppose it will have to do” he took a glass from one of your silver serving trays and waved you away to continue your rounds of the ballroom, offering drinks to the other guests. Passing out glasses to another group of guests emptied your serving tray, so you tuck it under your arm and return to the kitchens to replenish your supply

“The Chancellor’s asking for red wine, do we have any?” Another servant asked as he asked as they followed you in

“That man drinks nothing but wine, can’t he last one night without it?” The older man who ran the kitchens scoffed as he walked off, he was a fellow Lucian, that much you knew, you didn’t tend to ask questions like that, it usually got people angry and upset when they spoke of their homes. He set the fresh bottle of red wine on the counter, the young man who had asked for it pulled out the cork and poured a glass. You were collecting your fresh champagne flutes when you saw him pour something else into the glass, a fine white powder.

“What are you doing?” You hissed as he stirred the powder until it had completely dissolved

“With the Chancellor gone, then it just leaves the Emperor”

“And the whole of Niflheim’s army, are you insane!”

“Don’t you want to go home?” The young man looked at you, he looked desperate

“Of course I do… but poisoning the Chancellor is not the way to do it” you try to reach for the glass but he pulled it away from your reach and left the kitchen, you went to follow him but the older man caught your arm

“Don’t bother dear, let this be on him, alone”

“But what about the Chancellor?” You ask, the older man let out a sigh

“You have too much heart, dear, you won’t do well here if you care as much as you do” he nodded to your tray of champagne “you best get going with that, don’t want the high and mighty of Niflheim going too long without their alcohol now do we.”

Back in the ballroom, you can’t help but look over at the Chancellor, he was still leaning against the wall, looking down at his wine glass, swirling the liquid, but not drinking it, as you make your way around the hall, he catches your attention again, and waves you over.

“Is… there something wrong Sir?”

“The servant who brought me this, did he open the bottle and pour it?” You swallow your nerves that had risen to the surface

“Yes, Sir” he looked up from you and you followed his gaze, the young man was standing at the far corner of the room

“Well then, I know what he’s done… and I want him to know that what he’s done will result in someone dying”

“Sir?” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, he took your empty trays off you and handed the glass of wine, he kept his hand clasped tightly around yours, and looked at you, you could see a look in his eye that made your stomach turn

“Drink it” your eyes widen and you tried to take a step back from him, but he catches your wrist and held it tightly “you will do as I say, drink it”

“Sir, I…”

“Drink it” he repeated again, you quickly look over your shoulder, the servant responsible to this was still watching “I don’t want to have to force you” you look back at the Chancellor, then down to his hands, one holding your wrist tightly, to the point it started to hurt, and the other holding your hand and the glass he had given you, you couldn’t drop it, or even throw it at him, he was giving you no choice.

Why did I come over here, why did I feel the need to ask him anything? I’m going to die because I care too much, I’m so stupid

“I’m waiting…” the Chancellor hummed

“Fine” you manage to choke out, his lips twitched into a brief smile before you lifted the glass to your lips

“That’s it, drink up” even though he spoke in a whisper, you could hear a hit of amusement or joy in his voice, he still held the glass and your hand as you tipped the rich red wine into your mouth. It had been months since you had drunk anything so expensive and rich in flavour, it was a pleasant flavour, you thought at first that there might have been nothing wrong with it at all, but then whatever your fellow servant had put it the wine hit your system, you let out a gasp as the Chancellor let go of you, freeing your hands to clasp your throat.

You heard someone shout, a mans voice from what you could tell, but your focus was on yourself, the poison surged around your body, causing your throat to constrict and your legs to give way from under you. You felt strong arms catch you though, they lowered you to the floor.

“It’s alright” the Chancellor’s voice spoke calmly in your ear, you could feel his breath against your neck, as he spoke, your vision was blurring, all you could see were shapes moving around you “try to take deep breaths… it’s alright” you feel a hand close your eyes and brush some hair from your face as you slip unconscious.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Hi! I love your witcher content. If you don't mind and have some time, I'd like to ask you a few questions.1) What is your favorite underrated tertiary character? 2) Do you see Ciri ever being in a long-term romantic relationship with someone? If so, do you have someone specific in mind? 3) Your thoughts on Sh'eenaz and her story. Btw she was bi, right? (I don't know if I remember it correctly) 4) Ace Milva, pan Regis - thoughts?

Hi Nonny! Ooo, what a fun ask.

Favorite underrated tertiary character.

Ok, this will depend on what you mean by tertiary.

Milva. I'm a big Milva fan, as people know. (that's my Milva character write up) But she might be seen as secondary, not tertiary.

Nenneke. She isn't just Geralt's mother figure. While that is very important, she also plays an important role in the narrative with the themes of religion, of the feminine, and of the divine. I still haven't gotten to my post about her, but I will.

Angoulême. I also dearly dearly love Angoulême. I get emotional when I think about her. The witcher books love to put the main characters through hell but then give you a parallel character where they show you...but guess what babes...it could be alot worse. Because...what if they didn't have each other? Brehen contrasts with Geralt because he doesn't have Kaer Morhen, and Angoulême contrasts with Ciri because she is just like her (looks, nationality, fell into a gang, etc) but she doesn't have noble blood and she doesn't have anyone running across the continent trying to help her.

If you want more tertiary than that, I'd say I really love Black (I'll see you in hell) Rayla. I love Dainty (All Cops are Bastards) Bibervelt. I love Percival (beloved nerd) Shuttenbach. There are so many more. But there is a handful.

2. Ciri and romance. I mean, she might! I haven't personally thought about it though. I've only read the books and watched the show. So, in my only canon experience with Ciri, she is no more than 16 and deeply traumatized. When I sit down to write fic, I just want her to get to be a kid, and spend time with her parents. I ship her with time to heal. I just feel very very protective of her, almost irrationally so. (she doesn't exist, Des!)

If I played the games and saw her as an adult, OR if I really sat down to write and tried to imagine something, I'm sure I could. But I haven't sat down and imagined yet, as she heals and grows, what she would want and who that would be.

Just my personal thing, I don't begrudge anyone else their ships, and I hope everyone else is having fun shipping Ciri.

3. Sh'eenaz. The thing with the witcher characters is, they never 'identify' themselves as any sexuality. And then fans scratch each other's eyes out inferring different things from it and fighting, which is very frustrating.

But Sh'eenaz DEFINITELY says that she has sex with women (well, mermaids). When Algloval won't trade in his legs for a tail so she can have a real committed relationship with him and reproduce with him, she gets very angry. She's like...he's not taking this seriously. He just wants sex and no sacrifice or commitment. She says she already has girlfriends who will have sex with her, and that, by the way, they are much better at it than him.

"Tell him I have girlfriends who are much better at those frolics that he was suggesting on the rocks!"

She's like, if all you're giving me is sex, I can get better, elsewhere. She wants a real relationship and to spawn.

I think for me, the main question I have for her arc is, what changes her mind at the end? Is it mostly to achieve peace and keep Algloval from invading the ocean? Is it love? Is it both? I wonder how much of it is each? I still have to think about that one. It's a great story though, and I listen to the audiobooks, so Peter Kenny's voice as Geralt singing mer language will never ever leave me lolol.

4. Ace Milva. I talked about it a bit on my Milva post I linked up there. In canon she is annoyed when the others talk about sex, and she has had a very empty sexual experience. She is never shown to really lust over anyone or pursue sex.

but like I said before, she never 'identifies' as anything.

So, you could take those facts and spin them into any number of headcanons. I don't ever want to be the headcanon police, or to contribute to an environment in fandom where people feel they can't experiment with fics.

However, I personally like her very much as ace or demi. It is a nice fit with canon, and I've written one fic concept where to me, she is demi, and I would definitely write her or read her as ace as well. To me, that's a great headcanon.

Pan Regis. I don't remember if there is any evidence of this? But I vibe with it. I don't want to delve too deeply into why I that is, because it's late and I've written so much as it is. I should do a Regis character sheet, but I have so many I want to do in front of him in the queue. But I'm very down with this headcanon.

Thanks for the ask!! And for talking about the books with me and reading my posts. <3 <3 <3

[huntingteeth]

ask and you shall receive :D

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be?

46. when do you feel the most confident?

47. what do you do on your free time?

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

50. did/do you play sports in school?

51. when are you happiest?

52. coffee or tea?

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without?

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person?

i searched ask game and just grabbed a bunch from the first one - feel free to answer as many or as few as you'd like!!

you’re truly a blessing 🥹

45. ignoring the flight part (lmao) if there was anyone i could talk to for 10 straight hours, my nerdy brain would probably want to talk to any education neuroscientist because that’s always my favorite part of going to conferences is the neuroscience/reading panel and it would be wild to be able to talk through all my nerdy interests with them lol but if we’re talking about a famous person maybe uh lmao idk. idk that i’m actually interested in talking to anyone who’s famous lmao. i gotta like know a person to be comfortable talking to them for 10 hours and then also i get super tired of talking to people for 10 hours. maybe lord byron so i could bully him for 10 hours.

46. in my professional life definitely. but also when i’m in a small group of people i like lmao. i get wildly anxious when i’m left on my own for too long (lol at having summers off of work) but when i’m around people who have the same type of humor that i have or who lmao like me as a person, i feel very confident

47. in my freeeee time, shit. i like cooking. i like hiking. i like read thicc nonfiction science or history books (my books for vacation are “the particle at the end of the universe” by sean carroll, “monsters” by edward regis, “decoding the heavens” by jo marchant, and then one of my fave books “seven brief lessons on physics” by carlo rovelli). am i gonna be able to read all of these on my trip? no but i’m gonna give it a go. and uh i guess writing too lmao. oh and any kind of like cross stitching, knitting, crocheting situation.

48. yeah lmao. i think it’s generally pretty hard to lose my respect because i’m usually pretty easygoing but i have a really strong sense of justice and once a person makes it to the point where we’re on opposing sides of whatever issue it is, it’s pretty easy for me to justify bopping them out of my life.

49. i don’t know! i don’t know if i want to know either. maybe when i broke up with my high school boyfriend bc i was going to a different college lmao but honestly i dodged such a bullet. i haven’t had a relationship with anyone since probably like i was 18 and in college and it’s been so great lmao.

50. i did color guard in the marching band and winter guard for three and a half months years in high school lmao. i’m not really a sports person lol.

51. i’m happiest at the beach. not in the ocean necessarily but laying in the sun with a book and a fun drink and maybe i can take a nap. that sounds great. i also dearly enjoy being the first person in a hiking group so i can pretend like i’m a will-o-wisp who’s luring other people deeper into the forest tbh. thrilling.

52. my favorite drink in this world is an unsweetened iced tea. i do drink coffee and enjoy it but if i had to choose between the two things, i’d choose the iced tea.

53. honestly probably my extensive shoe collection. that’s a really frivolous answer but what’s the point of life if we can’t be a little frivolous? i have jordans that i love love and probably about ten pairs of sam edelman pointy d’orsay flats and sometimes when i think about how much money i’ve sunk into shoes it is a little wild but we’ve only got the one life and we should be filling it with things that make us happy

54. if they have a good sense of humor, quickly followed up by if they’re kind.

[albinoxherbalist]

The kiss on her pulse point made her tremble slightly, as well as his words. "Regis.." she whispered, caressing the side of his face, her touch gentle. When he said that he loved her, her breath hitched once more, her heart feeling like it did a somersault. It had been so, so long since anyone told her that and it held so much meaning. She carefully wrapped her other arm around him and pulled him closer as she kept her other hand on his cheek. He couldn't get close enough.

Rose kissed the tip on his nose, his cheek, peppering his face with small, sweet kisses. She couldn't get enough of kissing him. It was like she wanted to pour years of pent-up affection onto him. Having someone to love like this was something she had missed so dearly. Her breath was a little heavier, her chest rising and falling quick as she kept showering him with affection. She wanted to give him all the love and affection she could muster.

Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest as she laid there and listened to his words. The kiss, his words, his touch..it was almost overwhelming. He felt the same way. He really did. It was pretty obvious that he did, but hearing him say it filled her with a joy she couldn't describe. She smiled, her face practically glowing as she reached out, caressing his cheek again.

"Oh Regis." she spoke quietly, her breath still a bit hitched. "You have no idea how happy this makes me." Rose even got a little teary eyed. These were no tears of sadness and pain. No. It was pure joy. All of this was almost too good to be true, like a dream.

Rose leaned forward and placed a quick, sweet kiss on his lips. "You don't have to hold back anymore. I'm all yours." she whispered. "I love you, Regis."

Saying those words left her breathless once more. It was all so overwhelming, so beautiful. She never wanted this night to end. Just them. That was all that mattered to her now.

[martischars]

@thousandsuns-writes

who: Logan & Jo

where: Governor’s birthday, St. Regis Hotel, New York

She’d grown up in this world, she knew exactly how long it took to get ready, where to buy her outfit, which shade suit her better. She’d grown up in this world, but trying to focus on her career and live somewhat of a normal life while attending this kind of events every other week could be a little complicated. She couldn’t not go, it was the Governor’s birthday. She couldn’t not go, it was her grandfather’s birthday. Not only were the Cartwrights some sort of politics royalty, they also were quite the wealthy family and her grandpa had the brilliant idea to celebrate his birthday in a big way at the St. Regis Hotel. Josephine loved her grandfather very dearly and she made an effort to engage in politics just for him, but she knew it was going to be a long night and she was already running late.

The blonde girl hurried out of the elevators, careful not to trip even though she could wear heels in her sleep. She gave a quick thanks to the waiter offering a glass of champagne, taking a sip as she made her way down the stairs. The room was full of people, some very well-known faces, some strangers, yet all greeting her as she made her way through towards the bar. Most of her family was there, but she was looking for someone in particular-- well, he was pretty much her family too. That’s when she spotted the back of his head, the blonde hair impossible to miss and his somewhat stoic posture... Logan McAden. When she had met him, never once did she think she’d even stand him, let alone like him, and yet here she was feeling her smile growing wider and wider as she approached him, her body warming up and relaxing at last as she finally met with him. Josephine Cartwright had fallen in love with him and thank god, he loved her right back. Standing on her tips from behind him, she placed both her hands on top of his eyes to cover them up. “Guess who, babe?” Jo asked before allowing a giggle and letting go of his eyes only to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “How lucky I am to have such an incredibly good-looking boyfriend, don’t you think?” She offered the compliment, but soon teased him like only she knew how. “But let’s be real, you’re the lucky one to have such a gorgeous girlfriend.” Jo winked at him before swirling in her rose gold gown for him to see.

[caparrucia]

Hello! If you’re willing, could we get a ship of your choice and #48 for the kiss and a ship ask?

…out of habit.

Titus is like clockwork: predictable and measurable and perfectly, spectacularly rational, thank you so much for noticing.

When... this - whatever the fuck this is, he's far too smart to even try to describe it, much less define it - happens, he assumes it will throw his lovingly calibrated routine into chaos. Instead, they consume it and make it their own.

Because of fucking course they do.

So now Titus wakes up at five on the dot, just like always, but rather than a redundant alarm clock he kept purely for paranoia's sake, he wakes up to the concert of low groans and miserable moans that crawl out of Regis the moment he so much as twitches. Aulea snickers, mean-spirited and shameless, and leans in to press her lips to the corner of Titus' mouth. Regis whines when she shoves him out of the way, and Titus is free then, to squirm out of the monstrously comfortable bed while she shuffles in to take his place as Regis' source of warmth. He doesn't think about the fact Aulea doesn't sleep - she's got lightning and justice trapped under her skin and her scars give out the barest glow in the dark and her eyes are blue right up until they're purple and then someone is dearly wishing she'd just kill them instead of making them repent - but he does notice the progress on the book by the nightstand, when he reaches out to grab his cane. If she's close to done he'll have to figure out a new one, and that'll take a few hours out of his day.

She reads slowly, ponderously. It took Titus entirely too long to realize it is because she's spent so long speaking to and for her god that Lucian became a second language. She does love her poetry though. The more obscure, morbid and wholly intractable, the better. Titus is retired, a decorated war hero. He's got a pension and everything. All the titles Regis has given him - he does not think about them, any of them, or what they might mean - come with little to no expectations or obligations for him to fulfill. His time is his own, and he is listed as optional in every meeting Regis invites him to listen in on, though he always allows Titus to say his piece if he wants, regardless of context or rank or audience. He doesn't have anything pressing to do, except keep existing, keep living this life he's somehow ended up living, out of inertia or habit or just pure dumb fucking luck.

Titus comes out of the bathroom an hour later: Before, when he didn't need the cane and he could shower standing up and his knee didn't cramp horribly if he took too long shaving, he'd been utilitarian, about his mornings. He'd shower and dress and be out and about in under twenty minutes, and the thought of lingering under hot water - of even using hot water - seemed like a waste of time. But that was Before, and this is now. This is the life he has and he will live it as best he can, because all of the hateful fucking bastards who tried to kill him failed.

Sometimes, when he's sitting on the edge of the bathtub, digging his fingers into the corded knots of muscle above his knee, gritting his teeth and demanding the fucking thing stop spasming long enough for him to get his day started, Titus remembers the sight of Regis, kneeling at his feet. He remembers the way his throat went dry and his lips pulled back into a snarl, and he remembers the words. Upon this knee rests the entirety of this kingdom, he'd said. Because Regis just... said things. Specially when he meant them. The kingdom is fucked, then, Titus hadn't said then. He still hadn't now, even though he entertained the thought sometimes, when the pain broke through the usual thresholds and he needed to sit down and pay attention to it, and only to it. Like the entirety of Titus' world was sequestered behind his misaligned patella.

(And some mornings, very rarely, the pain will throb, twisting like a red hot iron curling through his thigh and into his hip, and he'll make a sound. A tiny, cursed, miserable sound, and then they'll be there. They'll be there. Aulea with a wrist for him to bite into, to muffle the scream into, and Regis with his hands glowing green, magic forcing its way in, useless and desperate anyway. It's the strength of Regis' fingers digging in that coaxes muscles back in place, not his magic. He cannot magic a new knee for Titus, even if in the peak of delirium, Titus would let him even try. Those mornings meetings and audiences are rescheduled, and Titus thinks it's so stupid, an entire country held hostage by his fucking knee. But Regis did warn him, he supposes. That's the thing about Regis, the impossible, infuriating thing: Regis doesn't lie. He's so good he doesn't have to.)

Most mornings, he manages without trouble, and by the time he's mostly assembled into a semblance of passable humanity, Regis is awake enough to look smug. He always looks smug, here in his personal quarters. He's personable and affable and kind and generally well-loved, outside his own rooms. He's a good King, after all. In Lucis, far and wide, people do not starve. People do not die to the elements or monsters or even war. Regis is the King who brought peace to his people and when the time came, fought to defend it. None of that, Titus thinks, is a mask, either. He is sincerely what he is, and that is in part why he's so good at forcing people to meet him halfway. Even his enemies respect him, and his followers revere him.

Even the revelation of his magic, the depths of his power, did not destroy him. He didn't have to do anything about it, they all wrote it off for him. Just like that.

But here, in private, when there's only him and his wife and Titus - Titus has a title that he dares not think about, because titles carry meanings and he's too smart for that, at his age - he is smug. In ancient times, the worship of Bahamut was widespread and the Kings of the Crystal were often called the Dragon Kings. Regis is smug in a way that makes Titus shiver. He stands in the doorway, taking in the scene: the King, lying on his side, disheveled and shameless with it, hair unkempt, beard a mess, with bruises and bites and scars on display, looking at him with half-lidded green eyes like the world's smuggest dragon sitting atop the world's most precious hoard.

Titus wants to stab him. Again. Possibly kiss him. It's insane. Inane! He is nearly fifty fucking years old. Regis is nearly fifty fucking years old. Aulea is barely a year younger than Regis, for all she's been frozen in lightning and judgment, for all her eyes give away her true age. Together there's almost a century and a half worth of history in that bed, they cannot keep pretending to be children, fumbling about feelings and nonsense.

And yet, when Regis offers a hand, Titus walks back into the room and takes it.

And yet, when Aulea slithers to his side, pressing her lips to his and steals the kiss Regis had been aiming to, the same way she does every morning, Titus does not do the smart, sensible thing. He does not run when Regis laughs and pulls him down and kisses him, like he's staking a claim.

Upon this knee rests the entirety of my kingdom.

"What shall we do today, love?" Regis asks them, both of them, and Titus should run, should scream, should flee before they cost him something far dearer than a knee.

"I don't know," he says, instead, the same thing he says every morning - every morning he's not buried under Regis' bulk, held in place and smothered in them, like they can somehow excise the agony away, occupy too much space and leave it with nowhere to go but away - leaning on his cane and looking carefully unamused. "Some treason before noon, I suppose."

It's a stale joke, by then. It should have run its course, like a shattered wheel, all jagged edges and bleeding shards. Instead, Regis laughs, every morning, that same little, breathless laugh. Aulea rolls her eyes and smiles, and Titus swears, just for a moment, the perpetual clouds above the Citadel part, ever so slightly, when she does. It's almost like Regis can read the words Titus does not say, cannot bring himself to say, every time he says that. Every morning. On the dot. The same stale joke.

I love you.

"Well," Regis laughs, shuffling out of bed at long last, pressing a kiss to the corner of Titus' mouth, opposite to Aulea's earlier one, which Titus can't tell if he means to or not, and he refuses to dwell on it much. "Can't betray the King if he's not there to be betrayed, I suppose."

Titus is nearly fifty fucking years old. He survived Mors Lucis Caelum and what Insomnia became after he did the world a favor and died. He survived the war. He survived Cor Leonis and his infinite fountain of bullshit. He's too old and too jaded and too himself for it, but every morning, on the dot, Regis kisses him in passing and promises to put up a good show. And despite it all, despite himself and Aulea's snickering and the fact he'll never live it down: Titus smiles even as his face heats up, because somehow, he'll survive them another day.

Fuck it, he's going to make them survive him.

[ahkaraii]

[ff15] I won’t let that happen. Not to you. (2105 words)

Cor’s with Clarus when they learn his wife has gone into labour. Cor drives him and Regis to the hospital to see her, speeding past red lights and breaking speed limits, both hands steady on the wheel. He’s there to see Clarus’ face light up, tear up, and glow with something really special, when he finally gets to hold his firstborn.

“Gladiolus,” Clarus whispers. “My baby boy.”

Cor has never seen a man look upon another male with such adoration, with such pure and honest love. It humbles him, a little, to see it, and recognize it for what it is. He doesn’t think he would have been able to, when he was younger.

“I’m afraid you’ve been supplanted, my dear,” Regis whispers-says to Cor.

“‘Bout time,” Cor says gruffly. “I was getting real tired of that nickname.”

“Do you hear that, son?” Clarus says, a little wetly. “That’s the voice of your King, and his Sword.”

Cor has never heard himself referred to as the King’s Sword, but it feels good to hear it. Weighty. Official. Like he’s no longer a third wheel tacked on but one of a triad. Like he belongs here, with them, for real. He likes that nickname a lot more than ‘baby boy’, anyway, that’s for sure.

“Oh, Clarus,” Regis murmurs, leaving Cor’s side to join his Shield, to wrap a strong arm around him. “My friend. My most dearly beloved man.”

Huh? What? Wait-- Clarus is crying, Cor realizes. Clarus is literally sobbing.

“Clarus...?” Cor’s voice sounds oddly-pitched to his own ears. He has never seen Clarus cry like this, not once in the nearly nine years he’s known him.

“He’s going to die!” Clarus wails, his body curling around his baby like he can protect him, like he can shield him-- from his own duty, Cor realizes. From his own divinely ordained fate.

“Not while we live,” Regis promises him fiercely. “Not so long as I have the power to prevent it. I swear it, Clarus. I swear it.”

Cor feels like he shouldn’t be here. Like he’s intruding on something sacred, something profound. Like he’s just a street rat with no fancy name, no family history, nothing tying him so ruthlessly to the past like Kings and their Shields have, for centuries upon centuries.

Cor remembers asking Regis about the Ring, pained, Their will is for their kids to die for it?

He’s witnessing it now: a father finding the will to condemn his own son to death, for the sake of his family’s legacy.

Fuck! Gods-damn this! He can’t bear Regis’ ring for him, the one that is killing him. And he can’t save Clarus’ from his duty, either, the one that demands he die upon Regis’ inevitable death. But maybe there’s something he can do. Something only Cor can do, because he’s not a part of this long-winded legacy, not really. He’s here by choice, and that-- that can make all the difference.

“I’ll make sure, too,” Cor vows, finding his words. “Clarus, listen to me: I’ll make sure your kid lives, even if you die. And Regs’, when he gets around to it. And all the other ones, the ones that come after. As long as I can.”

Clarus is looking at him, red-eyed, red-faced, lip trembling. “Cor,” he croaks.

“I can do that much,” Cor says, fiercely. “So you can rest easy. So you can love your kid, without wanting to cry over him all the time.”

“Gods, Cor,” Clarus says wetly, but he’s smiling, just a little. “I’ll fucking hold you to that.”

“Language, my dear Clarus,” Regis says, a little sniffly himself, “or else little Gladiolus is going to grow up speaking just like his Uncle Cor.”

“Astrals forbid,” Clarus laughs.

Uncle Cor, huh? It feels a little funny to hear it, but not in a bad way. He lopes on over, to peer at that little bundle. Gladiolus. Kind of a dinky name, in his opinion, but it’s growing on him.

--

Cor starts noticing kids, after that. Like, really paying attention to their faces. The fact that they’ll all grow up and live their lives and one day die, and that someone might cry over them when they’re gone. It’s a dumb thing to fixate on, considering his kill count, but it jars him all the same.

“You’ll blunt yourself,” Gilgamesh mutters.

Maybe so. Cor focuses on his soldiers, instead: learning their names and faces and wants and fears for the future. It visibly shocks them to be asked so directly by ‘The Immortal’, hardass that he is, and a lot of them stutter as badly as Cor did, when Mors first taught him how to read. He doesn’t mock them, though. He knows how lousy it feels to be called out on it, and isn’t that a shocker: to feel empathy for another human being, no matter how pathetic, how unworthy.

He’s running through sword forms when his comrade-now-friend Dustin Ackers finds him, politely interrupting his meditation to hand him a thick binder.

“Huh? What’s this?” He opens it, and the first page is a brief but thorough summary of an ‘Albani, Adeodatus, Lance Corporal, age 28’, etcetera, etcetera. There’s a small photograph of him, and there’s a map showing where he lives, and there’s even a section detailing his ‘family history’ and his ‘apparent hobbies’. “What the hell, Dustin?”

“Background checks, sir,” Dustin says primly. “Of all the men you interviewed.”

Cor is dumbfounded, for a moment, and then his naturally cautious mind turns toward suspicion. “Why? Are they a threat to the Crown?”

“There are a couple that appear to harbour petty resentments,” Dustin says thoughtfully, “but none that I would accuse of treason. Shall I further redact a list for your perusal?”

“Uh, sure,” Cor says. “That’d be good.” He blinks, still a little mind-boggled at how many files there are, and how thorough they must be, considering the first one even includes the man’s favourite fucking color. “When’d you find the time to make this?”

“Monica helped,” Dustin admits. “She told me you’d been looking into your men so I allowed myself the indiscretion of redacting all that they confessed, and then adding our own private investigations. Don’t worry, sir, we were very discreet.”

Gods-damn. This shows an impressive amount of unprompted initiative, which could be worrying in a military context, but Cor trusts Dustin and Monica and he recognizes this gesture for what it is: his subordinates-- his friends-- supporting him, in whatever way they know best. It’s what he’d done for Mors, and now Regis, and Clarus, and even Dustin and Monica, too.

“This is downright impressive, soldier,” Cor says. “Good fucking work.”

“You flatter me, sir,” Dustin says, but he still visibly preens a little at the sound of it.

--

Clarus likes the files, too. “Who did you say compiled these?”

“Two of my subordinates,” Cor says. “Lieutenant Dustin Ackers, and Second Lieutenant Monica Elshett.”

“They sound familiar,” Clarus mutters distractedly while fussing over Gladiolus, who is babbling excitedly in his arms. “Oh, you’re so strong already, my little man. Look at you. Yes you are.”

“We worked together, blowing up bases in Duscae,” Cor says, a little uncomfortable at Clarus’ display but also a little amused. “They specialize in demolition and infiltration, respectively.”

“And information gathering, evidently,” Clarus says. “Come here, Cor, and hold my son for me.”

“Huh? What, no--” And then Cor’s got his arms full of squirming baby. “Clarus, wait! I could drop him!”

“You won’t,” Clarus says, grinning. “I trust you with the life of my King, how can I not trust you with the life of my son?”

Cor feels really funny hearing that, but he’s too busy trying to find a safe way to hold this precious payload to dwell on it. Clarus is right, the kid's strong: barely weighs a stone but is about as dense as one already. Gladiolus’ eyes are wide open, honey-gold and bright, meeting Cor’s own fearlessly.

“Talk to him while I leaf through this,” Clarus casually orders. “Babies learn language faster if you talk to ‘em.”

“Uh,” Cor says eloquently. “Yes, sir.”

He looks down at the baby, wondering what to say. He doesn’t know how to talk to children. He barely knows how to talk to civilians. But Gladiolus isn’t any person, Cor thinks. He’s Clarus’ son, an Amicitia. Noble-born, blue-blooded, and hopefully one day Shield to his future King, if Cor has anything to say about it. So he says just that.

“My name is Cor Leonis,” Cor introduces himself. “I’m a Captain of the Crownsguard, which your father commands, which you will one day command, too. You and I are gonna work together, one day, to protect the King.”

Cor awkwardly glances over at Clarus but he doesn’t appear to be listening, engrossed with a phone call he’s making to someone. Something about the Wall amplifier in northeastern Cavaugh, though his tone’s calm and not at all alarmed like it would be in an emergency, so Cor lets himself be drawn back to Gladiolus, back to his curious eyes, to his tufts of brown hair, impossibly soft against his palm.

“The King is the most important person, okay?” Cor murmurs. “But don’t forget that you’re important, too. I won’t let you forget that.”

Gilgamesh laughs quietly in his mind, mockingly, and Cor feels cold to hear it, like the Blademaster has already dismissed this child, already eliminated him, simply because he can’t hold a sword yet.

“I’ll teach you how to fight,” Cor promises, “I’ll do it, so your dad doesn’t have to, ‘cause that’s a fine way to get your kid to hate you, and I won’t let that happen. Not to you. You’ll have servants and silver spoons and so many things you won’t know what to do with them.”

Gladiolus coos, reaching out to grab at the buttons of Cor’s uniform, at his medals. Tugging at them, distracted by their gleam and texture. Cor knows that impulse-- he’s been drawn to shiny metal things since he was born, too.

“Yeah, you’re already greedy, aren’t you? Those are mine, kid, though you can earn yourself some, too, if you work at it.” Gladiolus manages to unpin one of the medals and promptly puts it in his mouth, chewing on it, teething himself on the stuff. “Like that one, huh? I got that one for killing a buncha Niffs some years back. Man, that was a pretty crazy day, even for me. I think I set a record or something.”

“You already dazzling my kid with tales of your exploits, huh?” Clarus is smiling, wide and smug, and Cor feels kinda embarrassed to know Clarus must’ve been listening in, at the end.

“It’s not all that impressive,” Cor deflects. “Just doing my job, like any soldier would. It’s you guys who keep inflating my ego, throwing all these fancy ribbons my way.”

“Cor Leonis, the finest show horse in all of Lucis,” Clarus jokes, then holds out his arms. “Gimme my son back, you fiend; at this rate, Gladio’s bound to believe you’re more badass than I ever will be.”

“That could never happen,” Cor says, grinning. “Yours is the biggest ass in all of Lucis.”

Clarus swats at his head mock-roughly. “Language around my kid, Leonis,” he grouses.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Cor says, and hands Gladiolus over with care.

“And just for that cheek I’m sending you to the boonies, soldier,” Clarus says, tucking his son into the crook of his shoulder with practiced ease. “I’ve information Niffs are planning on sabotaging the Wall amplifier over in northeastern Cavaugh, and I trust your sword to stop them, if they try.”

“Yes, sir,” Cor says, more formally. “I’ll form a squad immediately.”

“Take whoever you need, except your two Lieutenants,” Clarus orders, tapping the binder Cor’s brought him. “I want to send Elshett and Ackers on an information-gathering mission to Niflheim. The work they’ve done here is frighteningly thorough, and I’ve half a mind to berate them both for all the privacy laws they’ve violated without prior authorization. But at this stage of the war this kind of talent is game-changing. I want their eyes and ears on our enemies.”

“Understood,” Cor says. “I’ll send them your way before I go.”

“Thank you, Cor,” Clarus says. “And thank you for saying all those nice things to my kid, too. You always know how to make me tear up, baby boy.”

Yup, Clarus is still an asshole. “Glad to be of service, sir,” Cor says with a janky salute, and off he goes.

[sylleblosscm]

❝I feel the same way. Sometimes I find myself wondering what might have become of me if you'd not brought me here. Noctis has been my dearest confidant these long years - and you have been as a second father to me. I'd be a different person altogether without you both.❞

Every second that passes wherein Luna keeps her secret weighs heavier and heavier. There is no fear that she will be blamed: Regis is more forgiving of her circumstance than anyone. Yet she cannot bring herself to tell him she shall one day betray the trust he has in her. Luna had been well-prepared for her role, even before her mother's death; she had been taught to think highly of the Lucian royal family, to understand her place as their champion and their protector. Nobody told her how she'd come to love them. That the demise of those she holds dearest should draw so very near is more than she can take.

She sighs heavily, longingly. ❝Insomnia truly was a beautiful place to grow up. Though I miss Tenebrae dearly, I will never forget what this city has given me.❞ Her lower lip trembles, and her eyes begin to water, but Luna stays herself before she can falter.

❝I want you to know that I'd do anything to preserve this place, and the family it gave me when I'd lost my own. I shall train as long and as hard as is needed, to make up for what I missed. And if--if I should ever fail, it will not be for a lack of trying.❞

Regis doubts her words, but he doesn't push for an answer. If Luna doesn't wish to speak of it yet, then he would respect that. As long as she opened up to someone eventually if it was something truly troubling he would be satisfied.

He's silent as Lunafreya speaks, allowing her to gather her thoughts. This is the perfect place for self-reflection, it is partly why he keeps coming back. When he first heard the news of the prophecy, when the duty of the Crown became too heavy to bear – he always found his way to this garden. The fates were cruel, seemingly asking for more when he felt he had nothing left to give. He would give his life, would give his son's life for the sake of all life on Eos, but oh, how he had wished differently many times. He knew Lunafreya had a heavy burden ahead of her as well. She would guide his son to the end of his journey, but it would put a strain on her as well. It was truly cruel, to ask so much of someone so young.

"You did not need to. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, my dear." Both Clarus and him knew that she was grateful, it had been clear to them for a while. They were mostly just relieved that she had slowly seemed more and more at ease here, even though it had to have been difficult to adapt after everything that had happened.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. "Though I wish the circumstances had been different, then I am truly glad to have you be part of my life – I know Noctis feels the same. He is very at ease with you," he knew that the nobles had pushed for a marriage contract between the two of them, but he wasn't about to make that decision for them. If they fell in love, so be it, but if they looked elsewhere, then that was perfectly fine too. He simply wished for them to be happy.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.

Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.

Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.

Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.

The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.

There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.

These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.

They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.

And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.

The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.

This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.

Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.

It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.

I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.

I know that very well.

But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.

The wolf slips in the door behind him.

Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"

The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.

"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"

And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.

He has always been a good shot.

It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.

He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.

He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.

I love you doppler. I could love you too.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."

There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.

"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."

"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.

"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."

"No the other part."

"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."

"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"

He shrugged. "His dog went after him."

His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.

The wolf went after Jaskier.

Jaskier is alone.

With the wolf.

In a snow storm.

Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.

The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.

He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.

How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?

He pulled his doublet tighter around him.

Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.

Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.

Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.

The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.

There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.

"You found him?"

Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.

"... Thank you."

There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.

"I think... That druid overpaid."

He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.

Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.

Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.

The dam breaks.

"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.

"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.

"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"

"Jask-"

"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"

"Jaskier!"

His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.

"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."

He scowled harder at Geralt.

"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"

"... Vaguely."

A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.

You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?

What food do you have on you?

Uh.

Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.

No that's not- perhaps the law of su-

No. No. Lie. That will be enough.

It's not!

"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."

He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."

He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"

Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."

"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"

"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."

"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."

"Mhmm."

"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."

"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."

"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"

Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.

Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.

"She was repaying the favor."

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."

Neither Geralt met his eye.

"Geralt...?"

"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."

Right.

"But then why-"

A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.

I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.

They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.

The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.

I love you Jaskier.

Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.

"Oh."

He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.

"Tell me again."

Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."

"Tell you...?"

"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.

It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.

"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.

And this time. This time he believed him.

"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."

Geralt leaned down and did.

He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.

I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.

Mine did.

[noirbriar]

ABO things for family CorNyx

I was only going to be in this fandom awhile I said. I won’t write more brain farts i said. Me. An absolute clown. Lets go.

-Cor is pure alpha. However his hormones and pheromones are so overwhelmingly strong, his body actually feels uneasy rather than feral if he smells omegas. To the point his inner alpha would injure them if they get pushy. He tolerates out of discipline and sheer stubbornness though. Its not a big issue for him as a workaholic, his seasonal ruts are fine on his own. Just needs to make sure his cub is taken care of by trustworthy people till its over.

Regis and Clarus have long given up trying to pair him seeing how a mate might affect his health. Although that doesn’t mean they stopped suggesting betas. Cor flips them off each time they try. The Marshal does not think its a lonely life, he has a son and his work. Though he does wonder occasionally when he sees his fellow brothers getting mated and having their own cubs. Weskham aside. That man has more open relationships than he possibly knows. However he loves Prompto dearly and that he will not change for anything else.

-Nyx, like his forebears, are omegas. In Galahd, its the omegas who are the top of society. Often fiercer than their mainland counterparts and alphas. However after the death of his family and in grief and depression, had clawed his scent glands so badly he can never scent properly from then on. It gave him a false image of a beta and in Lucis where Alphas are the top. Suppressants are a help but makes Nyx more on the edge.

Although he still has his seasonal heats, in the Kingsglaive, its troublesome. Especially in the middle of War. When word got out he was a ‘damaged omega’, Nyx throwsdown the assholes like the hunter he always was, infraction,insubordination be damn. However, deep down he misses scenting dearly, giving comfort and security. Yet he knows he will never be able to have one again. Either death on the battlefield or alone till the end. A sort of bitter punishment for himself.

-How Cor and Nyx got together is something nobody had seen coming. Crowe though, had her suspicions and won the Crownsguard/Kingsglaive betting pool entirely.

-With Nyx unable to scent others, he gets moody and upset. Like a reminder he cannot care for his family like a proper healthy omega. Until Cor and little Prompto keeps scenting him each day. So the Galahdian is able to take comfort from theirs.

Cor is able to have a mate and one that his overly extreme instincts will not try and kill either is a plus. His inner alpha seems to be pleased in having a strong mate. Nyx’s instincts are all over the place and his inner omega takes time to accept this patient but firm alpha. Before he finally lets the man into his nest that he has made after occupying the alpha’s bower.

-Prompto is still too young to know of his secondary gender. But the boy gives good cuddles and joins Nyx in his nest often. Relishing in the care of an omega. Cor is a good alpha that tries his best in both roles but instincts is something else. Even though he is not their blood, they have taken him as their own and its enough.

-After the War, if the couple finds out they are expecting their own litter, thats another story in itself. With an excited son but panicking fathers who are stumped by the revelation.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Since production seems to be ramping up on season 3 do you think there’s any chance Jaskier will catch a break from the whole “everyone hates/doesn’t respect him” thing you wrote about in a post a while back? Because I’m with you in the sense that it’s not as funny as the writers seem to think and it’s actually really depressing when you think about it for any length of time. I want to believe he might finally get a friend or something this season but I don’t trust the writers at all not to just have him be the rest of the character’s punching bag in kaer morhen all this season :(

You know, that's a good question. I'll speculate, but fair warning, almost all of my predictions for S2 were wrong. (lolsob)

(also, for the people just joining us, they are referring to this post)

The showrunner said on twitter that Jaskier is in S3 from the beginning. Now, her predictions also turn out to be inaccurate sometimes as well. XD But if that is the case, I think they will have to develop his relationships with other people,? I think? Just by sheer presence in scenes?

Joey seems to want that, and they seem to let the actors make suggestions?

The actors obviously don't decide the plot or the episode beats, but they do have influence. Joey and Anya both said that they begged for Yennefer and Jaskier to spend a bit more time together. They have both said that relationships fascinates them and they wanted it to have more time, and look what we got! So within reason and within limits, they seem to have influence.

I was absolutely gobsmacked by the bounteous gift of Yenskier that we got. After his relationship with Geralt was sidelined so much, the last thing I expected was to get Jaskier's friendship with Yen onscreen.

So, I learned that there is no way I can predict. But if Jaskier is in it for all or most episodes, and he and Anya are still pushing for further development of their relationship (and the way they talk about it, they very much are) we will at least get that.

In the books, Dandelion is A Lot , but he has a solid spread of people who despise him (Djikstra, lol), complain about him and want to dislike him but who admit they actually like him against their better judgment (Nenneke), hates him (with good reason) then come to love him (Yen), and just plain loves him from first meeting (Geralt and Ciri). Then he has a ton of developed, existing friendships (Zoltan, Yarpen, Dudu, Essi, Milva, Regis, Shani, and on and on), and many many fans.

Hopefully we see more of that. And I was so delighted by his relationship with Yennefer S2 that I'm chomping at the bit for more of that. And dear god, please, I beg them for a crumb of Geralt and Dandelion antics. They are so goddamn entertaining and allow us to see such a great side of Geralt that I love dearly. And I'd kill for some sweet Jaskier and Ciri interactions. (If anyone is interested, I wrote about Jaskier and Ciri's book relationship here)

I am here for the found family and friendships. That's why I show up to anything, be it book, tv, or movie. So I hope we get some more of that.

[a-world-in-grey]

@raven-6-10 @secret-engima

Sola dearly wants Nox to come back to the Citadel. He’s her brother and wherever he is now he clearly isn’t taking care of himself properly and Sola worries.

But Nox is more than a little reluctant, magic skittering with wariness-fear-grief, tangled like thorns around love-longing-want. So she doesn’t push after she makes her initial offer for Nox to come to Insomnia, resolves to put her foot down and ensure Papa and Uncle Clarus and Uncle Cor don’t force Nox to the Citadel either.

Instead she leaves Dissidia with a handful of new numbers in her phone, so she can call and make sure Nox is alright even if her brother forgets to charge his phone.

Regis, Clarus, and Cor immediately want to bring Nox into the safety of the Citadel of course, Nox is Sola’s age, only fourteen, that’s far too young to be running around without support. Sola stands up to her family and tells them to leave Nox be. He’s more than capable of defending himself, and he has support, support he actually knows and trusts. She points out that Cor was part of the Crownsguard at thirteen - Nox as a Hunter at fourteen is not that different. Arguably, Nox is safer than Cor was, because Nox isn’t part of the military during an active war and is a far better fighter than Cor was at that age.

She already let Nox know that he’s welcome at the Citadel. So let Nox be. If he wants to come, that’s his decision to make.

Besides, if they start trying to chase him down, they’ll risk alerting Niflheim to Nox’s existence. Is that a risk they want to take?

Sola tells Noctis about Nox. Noctis is excited to have an older brother, even if he doesn’t really understand why Nox won’t visit. Sola tries to explain that Nox is afraid of what people will think of him, because Papa wasn’t married to Nox’s mom and some people think that makes someone less than others whose parents are married. Noctis is promptly outraged on Nox’s behalf.

Nox does not expect, when Axis next tracks him down to force him to eat and sleep, for his Shield to shove his phone into Nox’s hand - Nox’s phone lays dead in his armiger - with an exasperated reminder to call his sister. Nox sheepishly does, because apparently it’s been almost three weeks since Sola called him to warn him that she did her best to keep Papa and Uncle Cor and Uncle Clarus off his back but she’s not sure how long her efforts will last, and she’ll try to warn him if Cor ever leaves Insomnia.

Only, instead of hanging up after updating him on the latest goings on at the Citadel, Sola says there’s someone who wants to talk to Nox. Before Nox can fully process that, a young voice comes through his phone, excitedly saying hello and telling Nox that he doesn’t care that Nox’s parents weren’t married and he still wants to meet Nox and he hopes Nox will visit soon.

Which is how Nox is first introduced to his younger counterpart.

Nox isn’t quite sure what he says to Noctis, but he must not screw it up because Noctis is happy enough when he hands the phone back to Sola. Nox, trying to breathe past the tight anxiety in his chest, asks if Noctis knows Nox is related to… Nox trails off meaningfully. Sola says Noctis doesn’t, but then bluntly asks if it matters.

That catches Nox off guard. Sure, Sola hadn’t reacted beyond a single surprised blink at hearing his surname, but her lack of questions meant that Nox hadn’t known if Sola knew how closely related he was to one of Niflheim’s highest ranking political figures.

When Nox fails to answer, Sola huffs on the other end of the line. She tells him that she’s not Uncle Cor, and Nox isn’t his relative either. Nox is Nox. And Nox is their brother. That’s all they care about.

Nox swallows past the lump in his throat and thanks Sola.

Sola tells Nox to thank Axis again for her, and to tell him that she’ll pay the long distance charge, before she ends the call.

Alas, the Marilith attack is not derailed, because the two people who know about the attack beforehand both have no sense of time and therefore forget until it’s nearly too late.

And since both Ardyn and Nox are terrible at remembering to charge their phones, neither of them get the notification from Axis, passing on Sola’s warning that if Nox wants to keep avoiding Regis to avoid Galdin Quay for Noctis’ birthday (the text Sola sends Axis is vague enough that anyone who doesn’t know who ‘Sunny’ is and that she’s Nox’s sister wouldn’t realize that the royal family will be out beyond the Wall on a day trip).

Due to security reasons, Sola and Noctis are in separate cars in the convoy. Which is why Sola isn’t able to protect Noctis from the Marilith when it attacks. But she recognizes the magic that whisks Noctis away from the wreck, and she trusts that Nox will be able to help their younger brother.

Sola joins Regis, Clarus, and Cor when they get the call from Cid. Oh, they want to leave her in the safety of the Citadel, but Sola adamantly refuses to be left behind and none of them are willing to spend the time to force her to stay.

When Nox instinctively reacts to Regis, Clarus, and Cor’s intrusion, Sola is there to wrap her magic around his in safety-reassurance-family. She’s also there when they meet Ardyn, and she goes still when she sees the scars and brand inflicted by Papa’s predecessor. She proceeds to shock everyone still awake when she not only calls Ardyn ‘Uncle’, but asks if she can hug him.

Regis is somewhat pained when he tries to tell Sola that Ardyn isn’t really her Uncle, but Sola cuts him off with a glare and a fierce remark that her brother’s uncle is her uncle. Then she turns back to Ardyn, waiting for an answer, ignoring Cid’s muffled snickers in the corner.

Ardyn… is honestly baffled by the request. He’d heard of Sola’s quick acceptance of Nox, but he’d never imagined such acceptance would extend to him.

Perhaps he takes too long to respond, or perhaps Sola can sense his bafflement, because she quietly says that he deserves kind touch too. Ardyn can’t speak through the tightness in his chest (it’s been millennia since he received such immediate compassion from family) but he manages a nod. Sola’s hug is gentle, he could step out of it easily, and yet warm in a way he can’t describe. It’s not her magic - his niece has kept it tucked beneath her skin while in his vicinity. After a moment, Ardyn hugs her back. From his sternum he hears a muffled ‘thank you’, so quiet he has to strain his ears to catch it. Ardyn says nothing in return, only briefly tightening his hold on his new niece before ending the hug, all too aware of Regis and his Sword and Shield watching with sharp eyes and tense shoulders.

Regis is unable to pry Sola away from Nox those four days he’s unconscious. Nox wakes in the Citadel with Sola curled up next to him, clinging to him like a limpet with fingers and magic both, Axis sitting in a chair on the opposite side.

Axis quietly explains, smirking as Nox tries and fails to extract himself from his sister’s grip, plopping a tray of food in Nox’s lap after Sola clings harder and Nox gives up. Apparently, Sola had sent Axis a message about Nox rescuing Noctis in Leide, and Axis immediately booked it to his location, changing destination after Sola updated him later that night about taking Nox to the Citadel to recover. Axis only just arrived a few hours ago - Sola’s been keeping everyone other than Ardyn out of his room in the meantime, since Sola knows Nox doesn’t really trust anyone else. She passed out once Axis arrived. (Axis doesn’t mention how Sola had taken one look at him and had known he was an Amicitia, merely thanking him for looking after Nox and telling him to call her Sola instead of Princess.)

Axis also informs Nox of Sola’s insistence on referring to Ardyn as her Uncle, on the basis of him being her brother’s uncle. Noctis, more than a little irritated at Regis not allowing him to see Nox despite Sola being allowed (rather, Sola wouldn’t take no for an answer) enlisted Ignis and Sola’s aid - Sola’s aid coming in the form of her giant cat Abyssus - and met Ardyn under everyone’s noses, promptly following Sola’s example and dubbing him Uncle as well.

Aka, Sola and Noctis have been cheerfully giving Regis, Clarus, and Cor grey hairs by completely disregarding any concerns of Ardyn being Niflheim’s High Chancellor.

Sola’s also promised to help Nox get out of Insomnia if he doesn’t want to stay, though she did ask that Nox stay long enough to meet Noctis properly.

Nox concedes to that, and Noctis ends up convincing Nox to stay.

Gonna make a separate post for the Little Nox Dissidia verse, once I get that fleshed out.

Well, since you said it's okay :)

Nox verse crossover! Specifically, Sola and Nox being summoned to Dissidia sometime before the entire Marilith incident.

Sola was not happy to be dragged into some weird fighting tournament, so she is more than happy to derail the entire thing to talk to her New Brother. Now if only he would stay still! Please stop running away, Brother, she has Questions!

Sola also has Questions for her Papa, once she gets back to Insomnia. Starting with how many ooops babies did you have, Papa? She wants to know if there are More Siblings out there.

(Yes, Regis, how many kids do you have running around? says Clarus while Glaring at his King. They saw the entire thing through Crystal-vision.)

Absolutely okay to keep sending in asks! Can't promise I'll get to them right away given it's finals season atm, but the asks are fun!

Putting this under a cut because I got clocked in the head with a bat by the damn plot bunnies while writing this and it got stupidly long.

Not gonna lie, this is great - Sola would lose her entire mind because brother? New brother?

New brother who has definitely not been taking care of himself properly, sit down so Sola can feed you, Pyre damn it all.

Meanwhile Nox is more than a little surprised to come face to face with a girl who looks so much like mom but with Ardyn's hair and magic and Cor's scowl. His new sister - who claims him as a brother despite giving his surname as Izunia, only blinking once at the name of Niflheim's Chancellor before she promptly calls him her little brother - fights a lot like Cor as well, which is how Nox learns that Sola's been apprenticed to Cor since she was ten, after she foiled an assassination attempt on their younger brother, Noctis.

(Nox has to swallow around a lump in his throat at how easily Sola accepts him as family, calling Noctis their little brother instead of just hers.)

Actually though, Sola has a blast while she's in Dissidia. How could she not? She got a new brother - who is definitely a Little Brother, she doesn't care that he can kick her ass with both hands behind his back, his personal care habits are atrocious and she will do her duty as Older Sister and remind him to eat Pyre damn it - got to cut loose and fight a bunch of people and creatures, and didn't have to deal with the snobs on Papa's Council.

Best vacation ever.

Sola comes back from Dissidia grinning ear to ear - she convinced Nox to exchange numbers, and even if he's bad at remembering to text or call her, Sola will remember if it means badgering her newest brother into taking care of himself better - and cheerfully asks Papa if she's got any other siblings hanging about. Regis chokes on his spit, Clarus looks like he'd also like to know the answer to that question, while Cor looks like he can't decide if his birthday's come early or he wants to preemptively break out the alcohol.

So yeah, this is great. Maybe even better than original Sola and Nox and Noctis get pulled into Dissidia while Sola is pregnant, because teenaged Sola is having so much fun.

But.

Consider.

Little!Nox 'verse.

Specifically the version where @secret-engima dropped Nox and Noctis on Materia's side and Ardyn on Spiritus' side, with Sola joining Ardyn in this case. Post-Marilith because otherwise Nox would be like, three and Noctis eight and even I'm not that mean.

So instead Noctis is ten (Materia did try to call for champions that weren't literal children and had at least some combat experience. Normally Noctis wouldn't count, but he's since got the same soul as Nox, things got kinda mixed up. Not that that excuse will save Materia from Sola and Ardyn's wrath). Nox is five, and Sola is seventeen and newly outed as a Kingsglaive to the media, and newly realized by the Galahdians as being a half-feral Sky-born instead of just a short-tempered magical teenager.

Sola arrives at the tower before Ardyn and learns from one of the less-asshole villains who may have done this whole dog-and-chocobo show before that she’s to fight her counterpart. Which makes her immediately suspicious because she doesn’t have a mortal enemy like these people. Well, most of these people. Apparently one of them is fighting his sister-in-law and former comrade while another is fighting his own son, and if Sola goes off that pattern that means her counterpart is-

Oh Pyre no.

At which point Ardyn arrives in all of his furious-terrified-where-the-fuck-is-my-nephew Scourge-magic-faced glory. Which neatly derails Sola’s impending Rage as she stares at the man that looks (and feels, and Sola never realized how lonely she was until she met another with her magic) more like her than her own father and brother and it feels like she’s been sucker punched. Because that’s the missing Chancellor of Niflheim putting the fear of him into the other champions through the sheer strength of his magic that Sola’s doesn’t have a snowball’s chance on Ifrit’s Pyre of matching.

And yet-

“Uncle?” Ardyn’s not sure how he hears it past the sheer terror and rage pounding in his ears, past the red and gold shards of magic swirling about him in a physical manifestation of come-near-me-and-die, but somehow the soft word gets his attention from where he’s seething at Spiritus. Or maybe it’s just the barest brush of hesitant-surprise-hope that has him turning to the young woman looking at him with wide blue eyes framed by achingly familiar red hair.

He remembers hearing about the Regis of this alternate world (and hadn’t that been a shock on top of everything else) having a daughter older than Noctis. He’d simply been too busy caring for Nox to look more into it. Now he wishes he had.

Noctis may look almost exactly like Somnus, but clearly his older sister takes after Ardyn.

“Niece.” He greets. He cannot muster up the effort for even his most insincere smile right now, not when he doesn’t know where Nox is.

Sola steps fearlessly into the magic swirling around him like a storm, shards of red and gold shattering harmlessly against her skin-

Is she, is she hugging him?

She is. Even though she’s old enough to know who he is, her arms are circling his torso in an encompassing hold that is nonetheless so gentle that he could break out of it with a single step.

Ardyn… doesn’t. It… feels nice. His niece is warm, her magic (so like his, he never thought anyone would ever inherit his magic) contained such that only hints of it brush up against his, and yet Ardyn can feel clearly how his niece has no fear or disdain of him.

Ardyn isn’t sure what to make of that. He awkwardly pats her shoulder.

“Who did they take?” His niece asks. “Your counterpart.”

Ardyn’s hand involuntarily tightens on Sola’s shoulder. She doesn’t flinch. Ardyn wavers on whether to tell her, because he’s been trying to keep Nox secret and he can’t do that if anyone from the royal family knows.

But this is Sola, whose reputation for being so fiercely protective of her younger brother managed to reach even the furthest reaches of the Lucian outlands. And Sola’s magic is radiating her honest desire to help him, simply because he’s family.

Ardyn prays he’s making the right choice. “My nephew.”

From where she’s clutching him like Nox does with his stuffed chocobo, Sola stills, before looking up at him with shocked blue eyes. Underneath the worry and fear for the others taken with them, hope and affection blooms. “I have another brother?”

“Nox.” Ardyn hesitates, then adds. “He’s five.”

It’s like flipping a switch. Sola’s delight is buried under a wave of protective fury that doesn’t touch him, and she bares her teeth in a snarl. “They summoned. My five year old brother?”

Ardyn hasn’t seen this kind of fury since the mother coeurl chased off a voretooth pack that had gotten too close to Nox and her other cubs. He’s darkly eager to see how much violence his niece will dish out. If he deigns to leave her anything to kill, that is. “Most likely.”

Sola whirls on Spiritus, seething. “Where are my brothers?”

.

Meanwhile, Noctis is Absolutely Not Panicking.

He’s ten now, and if Sola was able to protect him from assassins without panicking at ten then Noctis can protect his baby brother without panicking, especially because he’s got so many people looking out for him. He’s a big kid now after all.

(Noctis doesn't know that Sola very much did panic when she saved him from that assassin seven years back. That the whole incident was one blur of Kill The Threat By Any Means Possible of panicked Sky-born instincts.)

Noctis is trying so very hard to be brave for Nox, but then they’re attacked and Noctis sees the attack coming for them and he knows he can’t get his sword up in time and he wants his sister-

And then there’s magic ripping through the air, familiar-but-not even as Sola appears out of nowhere to scoop the both of them up in her arms and raise the strongest barrier she can around them, her magic quivering in relief and protective fury, reassuring them that she’s got them, they’re safe and Uncle is just outside taking care of everything, they’re safe.

Noctis bursts into tears. Nox follows in short order. Sola holds them both, rumbling low in her throat like how she used to soothe Noctis after a nightmare, and keeping her shield as opaque as she can because like Pyre she’s letting either of the kids see the absolute carnage happening on the other side. Bad enough they can hear it. Sola would rather be tearing someone apart, but someone needs to protect her brothers and Uncle is so much stronger than her. So she sits on her cranky Sword instincts and goes about comforting her brothers.

When Ardyn finally knocks on her shield, the screaming has finally stopped, and both her brothers have cried themselves to sleep. Sola’s still making that rumbling sound in her chest, a self-soothing technique she hasn't used in longer than she can remember.

In a mirror of last time, Ardyn fearlessly steps past Sola’s bristling magic and hugs her, long arms wrapping around her and the boys with ease. He doesn’t say anything - he’s never gotten the hang of comforting words, even after two years of caring for Nox - but cautiously wrapping his magic around Sola and the boys has all three of them relaxing in his arms. At which point Sola dissolves into tears, silently sobbing into Ardyn’s shoulder in an effort not to wake Nox or Noctis, but Astrals, she was so scared and they nearly didn’t make it in time and Sola doesn’t want to have to contemplate living without her brothers. And Ardyn doesn’t know how to comfort, but he can just sit there and hold his niblings while his niece cries.

.

Sola and Ardyn only met hours before, but looking at how they act with each other no one is able to tell. Because those two get along like a house on fire.

(What is this overkill you speak of? We only know keeping nephews/little brothers safe. With extreme prejudice.)

Sola is monstrously protective of her newest brother and uncle. Nox’s Sick Day has Sola and the rest of the mages capable of healing and Ice Elemancy tending to Nox around the clock, struggling to keep his temperature down, Sola once more making her rumbling approximation of a purr to try and comfort both her family and herself. Which prompts Y’shtola to actually purr whenever it’s her turn to watch over Nox because the rumbling/purring helps Nox sleep through it all.

The reveal of Ardyn’s scars sends Sola into a towering fury that she makes sure to keep away from Uncle and her brothers, and Mors is lucky he’s already dead because Sola would gut him and leave him to bleed out on the floor.

(Ardyn is surprised by Sola’s fury and grief on his behalf. He’s not surprised by the love she has for Nox, but for him? It’s been millennia since he’s received that kind of immediate and unconditional care from anyone, much less family.)

So when Sola later sits by him that night after Nox and Noctis are fast asleep, burrowing under his arm for a half-hug Ardyn can easily escape from, Ardyn doesn’t expect the soft, “You’re safe? Wherever you are?”

Ardyn looks down at his niece’s red hair in surprise, wondering what’s prompted this inquiry. But it’s easy enough to answer. “Yes.” As safe as one can be living in the outlands, which is safe enough with Axis and his family helping and Ardyn being the most powerful being on the planet short of an Astral.

Fingers tighten their grip on his coat. “…will you call?”

“Call?”

“After we go home.” Sola clarifies. “I want to know you’re both okay.”

Ardyn stills. Because she can’t mean what he thinks she means. “You won’t try to take Nox?” Not that Ardyn would let anyone take his nephew.

“You don’t trust Papa.” Sola says. Which, yes, but Ardyn didn’t expect Sola to pick up on that when he’s been keeping a lid on the vitriol he feels for most of his family, for Nox and Noctis’ sakes. “Nox is my baby brother, but he’s your nephew too, and he loves you.” A quiet sniffle. “I’ll miss you.”

“I will call.” Ardyn promises, resting a hand on Sola’s hair. “Both of us will.” He’s gotten a lot better at managing time, he can absolutely make a reminder on his phone to call his favorite niece once a week. If not, Titus can remind him.

[lifeofkaze]

Lizzie Jameson

Lizzie Jameson is nothing if not a lively, loveable, Quidditch-loving sunshine of a Hufflepuff. She is the main act of the Balance Series, consisting of An Art of Balance (finished), A Search for Balance (WIP) and A Source of Balance (tbw), all of which can be found here. After being a Chaser on the Hufflepuff team for most of her school life, she proceeded to make a name of her own in the circus of professional Quidditch. Over the course of her life, she learned how to achieve her goals, make mistakes and grow from them, and retain balance even when life threw her upside down.

As Lizzie’s story is still a work in progress, her profile is not fully complete and will be updated regularly.

Name: Elizabeth Diane Jameson

Nicknames: Lizzie (always and by everyone), Liz (by closer friends sometimes), Chaser (by Orion) 

Birthday: 24th November 1972

Nationality: English

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Residence: 

Lyme Regis, England (growing up)

Wigtown, Scotland

Montrose, Scotland

Face Claim: Lyndsy Fonseca

PERSONAL:

Appearance: 

Measures: 165 cm, 58 kg as an adult

Build: lean, athletic

Hair: light, warm brown, wavy, lightens to a honey-brown colour in the sun

Eyes: greenish-blue

Skin: pale, tans very easily and retains the tan 

Style: comfortable, athletic, can do pretty and feminine but only if she doesn’t feel restricted, minimal but meaningful jewellery

Misc: is almost never seen without a ponytail, tattoo saying Ad Astra on her ribcage and a merged sun and moon on her right wrist

Character: 

Positive Traits: lively, extroverted, fun, sunny personality, easily excitable, passionate, can take a joke

Negative Traits: tenacious, loud, petty, somewhat entitled, curious to the point of being nosy, tendency to make very bad decisions if upset and/or drunk

Favourite Food: Cherries

Favourite Drink: Cherry wine

Interests: Quidditch, football (Liverpool FC in particular), gossiping with her friends, being commandeered around by her cat

Boggart: Squidlike sea-monster from the depths (pre-war), burning, crumbling wood crashing down around her (post-war)

Patronus: Racoon

Amortentia: 

What she smells like: rain on hot stone, jasmine and mint, cherries

What she smells: broom wax, a combination of ginger, patchouli and coriander, incense and green tea

HOGWARTS:

House: Hufflepuff

Extracurriculars: Quidditch team (Chaser), Duelling Club until Y4

Best Class: Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Flying (not mandatory for members of the House teams)

Worst Class: Divination

Third Year Electives: Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy

CAREER:

1984 - 1991: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

1991 - 1994: Chaser for the Wigtown Wanderers

1994 - 1998: Chaser for the Montrose Magpies

RELATIONSHIPS:

Family: 

Michael & Helen Jameson: Lizzie has a good and close relationship with both her parents. She got her passion for Quidditch and tendency to sometimes not make the best decisions from her father, while her enthusiasm for football and lovely nature are all her mother.  

Jacob Jameson: Like with most siblings, her brother Jake was both Lizzie’s best friend and mortal enemy growing up. She missed him dearly when he moved to the US to work for MACUSA after graduating, but they have always remained in close contact. 

Selene Fraser, Caitlin & Lexie Jameson: Her trips to Fraser Hall were always a highlight for Lizzie. She loves her Granny Selene and all her wild stories just as much as her Aunt Lexie with her independent, mischievous nature. Her grandmother Caitlin is oftentimes a little too stuck up for Lizzie’s taste, but out of the three, her advice is probably the most sensible.

Romantic History: Orion Amari

What started as a friendship among teammates on the Hufflepuff house team turned into Lizzie’s first big crush and eventually relationship. She and Orion were a couple until right after her graduation two years later, when he left her and the country on short notice without anyone knowing why.

Friends: 

Skye Parkin: If asked, Lizzie’s answer of whether Skye is her best friend or the bane of her very existence depends on her daily form. The fights between the two Quidditch prodigies are legendary, but when push comes to shove, they will always stick up for each other. Or, in Skye’s case, even throw hands.  

Charlie Weasley: Charlie and Lizzie bonded over their shared love for magical creatures and hit it off straight away - in a strictly platonic sense. Even though many have doubted their friendship being only that, Charlie is more like a brother who won’t stop calling her ridiculous nicknames to her.

Rowan Khanna: Lizzie and Rowan used to be the best of friends until a shared crush on the same person in their fifth year almost broke them apart. After they talked things out they were able to rekindle their friendship, but they were never quite as close as they had been before. 

Penny Haywood: If Skye and Penny are two ends of a spectrum, Lizzie is sitting right between. Spending as much time with Skye as she does, she’s incredibly thankful she can entertain her more girly side with Penny. Between the two, there’s not many secrets their peers can hide. They remain close friends throughout their lives, so much so that Penny makes Lizzie the godmother of her younger daughter Dana. 

Katriona ‘KC’ Cassiopeia & Murphy McNully: @kc-and-co KC and Murphy aren’t only a wickedly intelligent, good-looking and Quidditch-obsessed entity, they’re also among the best friends Lizzie could ever wish for.

David Willows: @that-scouse-wizard David and Lizzie don’t only share their love for Quidditch but also the football club Liverpool FC, the hymn of which they taught to unsuspecting applicants for the Hufflepuff team until they got found out. A good and fun friend off the pitch, Lizzie knows to keep a sharp eye out for his Bludgers when her team faces off against the Wimbourne Wasps. 

Rivals: Lizzie doesn’t like the thought of someone not liking her, and most people take to her well. There are those who find her rather overly loud and annoying, but she’s not interested in retaining any sort of rivalry outside of the Quidditch pitch. 

Pets: 

Mouse: a big grey, diva of a cat that is the boss of Lizzie

Lyra: a border collie mix who actually belongs to Orion

Vega: a curious, mischievous, and very hungry calico cat with only one eye

Aurora: a snowy white owl

[systematic-shark]

6, 11, 22, 23, & 24!

owo?

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

Hmmmmm good question! I don't think many of my OCs look too similar (save maybe Killian + Odhran, but that's a given since they're twins...) Honestly, Viola and Magdalena are similar enough in mannerisms and complexion (dark/black hair, pale-ish complexion, eye-bags) you might think they'd be siblings from like, far away

(sketch by @red-shepherds)

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as sunshine?

Oh, Vali for sure! They might be slightly uncanny and cryptic in how they present themself, but at their core, they're a sweetheart that just wants to learn more about the world around them (and pet all the cutest, fluffiest animals/monsters)

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Ok, so, less of a serious "mischaracterization" and more just, joking, but Killian. He isn't like Hannibal!! He isn't blatantly obvious about the whole eating people! He will joke, he will eat a btich, but he won't seriously be out here goofing about having people over for dinner!!! he's subtler than that!! (but seriously, keep making fun of him and his brother's fuckin wile e. coyote antics)

23. Introduce an OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Hey speaking of Hannibal—probably my longest played DnD boy Hector. What started out as the embodiment of my Hannibal phase (literally, I got His name by smashing Hannibal and Lecter together,) with an emphasis on that one line, “Killing must feel good to God, too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in his image?”, to becoming an, ironic, self-righteous anti-theist who’s v much doubling down on the “no gods, only men” who’s allowed mass, natural famine for the entire world (as opposed to localized + isolated unnatural apocalyptic famine that turned his village into a literal hell on earth). He’s talked to his ex-goddess and is unimpressed, and is pretending to be the descendent of a great king, who’s soul is vibing in his ring of mind shielding (and is also a shard of a super mega deity shhhhhhhh it’s not hypocrisy, They Who Rule is just built different). I’ve had this boy for…5? 6 years? I love him dearly, I can’t wait for him to go full super villain post campaign

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

Honestly, I’ve given 90% of my ocs/PCs real shitty/tragic backstories, I’d feel real bad if I met them :') but hm. It’s a toss-up between my necromancer Rekindle and my spirit Bard Regis. Ive got enough musical know-how to talk about favorite songs, and I do like a good unhinged discussion on magic and philosophy