#cor answers

[crowtongued]

@stormslullaby sent: “Looking for something?” @ alekt

"Was it really that obvious?" He supposed lost tourists must look the same in any country, even when that person was him. "I was trying to find the Hakkeijima Sea Paradise, but... I think perhaps I took the wrong train. Though you look about as foreign as I do, so I'm not sure if you'll be able to help me."

[arty-e]

How old are the royal kids in the current chapters?

The current year: 11,544

Hearts ♥️:

Adrian (birthday boy) 17 (11,527)

Mercury 12 (11,532)

Diamonds ♦️:

Rune 23 (11,521)

Amethyst 17 (18 in a month) (11,526)

Crystal 10 (11 in a few months) (11,533)

Clubs ♣️:

Clover 21 (22 later in the year) (11,522)

Sakura 9 (10 later in the year) (11,534)

Spades ♠️:

Cyan 14 (15 in a few months) (11,529)

Camilla deceased (11,521)

Jokers✖️:

Isaac 21 (22 later in the year) (11,522)

[frost-eyed-autumn]

stares at his brother a long moment before speaking. "i'll rip yours out if you'll do the same for mine." this is how we deal with things, right? with the way that they heal, it'll be fine.

FINALLY. Someone useful.

You've got yourself a fucking deal!

[corrupted-fae-king]

You…

"Me."

"...It would seem now; I am no less better than you."

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Pax Mutila au: what was Cor's reaction to a giant definitely-fae coeurl appearing in the middle of Insomnia to wreck Pax and his trap arcade.

I wrote something really nice for this, but then I deleted it on accident and then I was sad about it. So have the clifnotes version of what I remember.

***

Nyx knows something is off when a Galahkari teenager stumbles into the Glaive HQ one afternoon. She's bedraggled and looks like she ran most of the way.

The first words out of her mouth are "Nyx, help."

It's like a switch is flicked inside his head. Libertus curses. Nyx slinks towards the girl, all grace and coiled violence. His grin is giddy and all teeth.

"Oh?" he purrs.

The story that spills out of the girl's mouth makes Nyx's blood boil. He would have helped for free, but the girl wants help, so a deal must be made. He needs to still be present to forge a deal.

A child. A child got caught in the claws of one of the Others. They had a deal. Forged after an incident soon after the Galahkari arrived in Insomnia. And the thing in the arcade had broken it. That would not stand. Not at all.

Bloodlust leaks out of Nyx like a broken faucet. Some of the humans are leaving in a hurry. Human-and-snake-pack-brother hovers behind him, far anough away not to crowd, but still there.

"Get my brother back," the girl says - orders.

"And what are you willing to give me for my help?" The last word carries an echo that shakes the air.

The girl look pale as the moon, eyes wide and glassy with panic. But still she forces her mouth to work. She does not stumble over her words. Nyx likes her.

"One year," she says. "You get one year."

A deep rumble comes from Nyx's chest. It's pleased, but the more human part of him also hopes it's a comfort for this teenager, this girl. How old was she? Fourteen? Maybe?

He leans closer, scents her, and she holds stock still, doesn't even dare to breathe. Nyx licks over her left cheek. Her tears taste exquisite.

"You got yourself a deal, brave child." He gently nudges her towards human-and-snake-pack-brother. "Stay with him and wait."

With that he's gone.

---~~**~~---

Cor knows something is off the moment the hairs on his neck stand up. The air smells of lightning and chaos. Fae magick but different. It's a hunting cat ready to pounce. Calculating and cold and so full of anger for a moment Cor can do nothing but try to breathe through it.

Then he's on the move. All cat grace and determined caution. One step and he's outside the government district, another and he's in the lower levels. A third and he stands in front of Pax's arcade.

What is left of it, rather.

People are fleeing in a panic.

A coeurl stands in the middle of the rubble, larger than he has ever seen one. It's coat is pure white and it's whiskers and horns are tinged purple with power. There's blood on its muzzle.

Cor stalks forward, intent to kill this interloper. How dare it? The fae know not to cause chaos on this level in Insomnia. They know what will happen if they do.

He feels his features begin to shift, bones and muscles twisting in sickening cracks.

The coeurl opens its maw and speaks words in a roar that shake the air and the buildings still standing around them. Cor doesn't understand the words, but the Chaos communicates clearly enough what is happening. What has happened.

The Chaos, twisting and churning in the air thick anough to choke a lesser fae, speaks of broken pacts and broken promises. It speaks of a deal made in desperation, cashed in by the not-fae in front of him.

Cor steps back. His form returns to mostly-human.

A broken pact is something he is not willing to interfere with. The Chaos brushes against him, pleased. He hisses back.

Then the coeurl is gone and in its place stands a humanoid figure. A person wearing a tattered Glaive uniform under a pure white pelt draped around the shoulders. Blue coeurl eyes stare at him from a too thin face.

Cor knows it-them-him. It may take him a moment, but he recognises Nyx Ulric. Hero of the Glaives, a reckless man who never leaves a comrade behind, if he can help it. Even if he has to go against orders to do it.

Nyx Ulric turns towards him, a snarl twisting his face, the thin veneer of humanity he normally hides behind, ripped away. He stalks forward in a roiling gate. His naked feet show he can only walk on the balls of his feet. The soles of his feet are too long, too twisted to function the human way.

A small head of dark hair peaks out of the white fur. Short braids are worked into it. Nyx Ulric gently cards a clawed hand through it. It's a deliberate move and Cor understands. This child is the reason this all happened.

Cor blinks, slowly. When he looks again, Nyx Ulric and the child are gone. Cor looks at the crumbled arcade with a sneer and turns towards where he knows the pixies have their main nest. It's time they have a talk again.

[caparrucia]

What if in The Sun Is Out, Cor had discovered Drautos was traitor before Nyx?

It is a precise strike.

Ironically enough, very much not deadly. Nyx catches Cor's gaze with his own, a fraction of a fraction of a second, before the sword slides in, cleanly. He stops breathing. He stops existing. The hand on the nape of his neck threatens to twist but a single gunshot echoes and Nyx feels the splatter into the back of his head, wet and solid and... final.

Cor pulls out the sword, but only one of the bodies bleeds.

Nyx gasps for breath as he stumbles into his arms and thinks that, all things considered, he's allowed to think of the Immortal on a first name basis.

"Son of a bitch," Lyra says, and Nyx is suddenly lying on his back, "you didn't even collapse the lung."

"Lyra," Cor says, deadpan, his hand clutching the flap of skin closed, where his sword slid between Nyx's ribs and somehow didn't pop his heart like an overripe grape.

The elixir burns.

Magical healing is just forced healing: accelerating the process too fast for death to catch up. Nyx feels every millimeter of that slice in intimate detail.

Cor snorts.

Lyra cackles like an off-key crow.

Nyx realizes he's been babbling the whole time, up to and including calling the Immortal pretty to his face.

"Twice!" Lyra insists, green eyes glinting with mischief. "Imagine if you had killed him, Cor?"

Cor Leonis stares down his nose at him, solemn and stone-faced but something in his eyes glints in a way that makes Nyx divine the embarrassment.

"Buy me a beer, when we get home," Nyx says, "then we'll be square."

"Sure," Cor replies, somewhere between bewildered and amused. "Why not?"

Nyx promptly passes out on the spot.

It takes them seven months to make it back to Insomnia, and only four of those are on account of the literal baby Lyra stole from somewhere. Cor puts sugar into the stew. Nyx resolves to live, if only because someone must be the parent, and clearly neither of his companions are fit for the title.

The scar in his chest - and his back, cut cleanly, skewered like a dimwitted fish in a barrel - aches the closer they get to Insomnia.

He wonders what the future will bring.

[lapdogchase]

i am goinfg to have A panic attack ❤️❤️❤️ this will help my situation somehow

[bloody-deliverance]

⚡️Where will you run away to when the world ends? As in actually ends. The sun explodes and takes planet Earth with it.

I have two answers, depending on whether or not Thera's protection is going to save me from retaliation. With no idea if that can keep you on your leash, I'll say the truer answer: I never know where I'll run to. Running with a destination in mind is for people who plan to stop.

Ask Meme - SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

[blackkatmagic]

Can we get a sneak peak of Cor Cordium? It's Jon/Fox, right?

It is! And it's also like. vaguely an Addams Family in space vibe??

“Good. I’ll call you in the morning, then.” Fox stands back as Thorn and Stone drag their burden into the bunkroom, then follows, waving the door shut and deliberately locking it behind him. He pauses, but where Cody or Wolffe would have immediately pressed their ears to the door, Hound gets up and immediately scampers.

Not curious, but sporting a healthy sense of self-preservation. Fox will take it. He turns—

“On my bunk?” he demands, annoyed.

Stone and Thorn, who don’t have any measurable sense of self-preservation at all, exchange glances, and then Stone shrugs. “You're the one who told him to stop being dead,” he says, and tugs the tarp down.

The Jedi, still covered in blood, wearing tatters more than robes and with one foot bare where the explosion literally blew his boot off, carefully sits up, scraping his scraggly hair out of his face. The face in question is still healing, down to bare muscle and visible bone, and he touches it carefully, then glances up at Fox.

“This has never happened to me before,” he says after a second, carefully, like Fox is going to tell him it’s perfectly normal for clones and Jedi. For a moment, Fox even debates it, but—

He thinks of that light, that moment, the electric jolt as the man’s eyes opened and fixed on him. It felt a little like he was the center of the universe, just for a heartbeat, addictive in a way he doesn’t quite have words for.

I brought him back from the dead, he thinks, and breathes out. Approaches, deliberate boot-falls ringing on the duracrete floor, and reaches out.

The Jedi doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. When Fox’s fingers slide across his undamaged cheek, his eyes flutter closed, and he leans into the touch like a feral tooka finally realizing pets are delightful.

Not that Fox would know. Not that he feeds all the feral tookas behind the Senate Building with the scraps he steals from the dining halls. That would just be soft. And ridiculous. Fox is tough and scary and makes shinies cry regularly. He would never do anything like that.

[harrowharkwife]

you ever think about wake's notes? about how her revenant wrote that "THE ONLY THING OUR CIVILISATION CAN LEARN FROM YOURS IS THAT WHEN OUR BACKS ARE TO THE WALL AND OUR TOWERS ARE FALLING ALL AROUND US AND WE ARE WATCHING OURSELVES BURN– "

" –WE RARELY BECOME HEROES."

only to end up a hero herself? 'cause i do. i think about that a lot actually

[arty-e]

Was Adrian aware of how bad his younger brother’s relationship with their mother was?

Kind of, sort of just surface level sort of way. He knows their relationship is not great but because he has good relationships with both of them he can’t really understand why they don’t like each other. So he kinda just shrugs it off like “it just be like that I guess”

He chooses not to think about it

[frost-eyed-autumn]

@arahabakionastring is just going to stare at chuuya with its large googly eyes before wiggling aggressively at him.

"Who the fuck let YOU out of the flesh prison again? Do I have to have a word with Light-Bright?"

[juniperscauldron]

True/False game: You're a push over?

False. I am a recovering push-over. No. I will not elaborate on the difference.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

I was rereading Dreams of Our Past recently, and - well, aside from falling in love with the story all over again, I find myself desperately curious about what happened when Regis met his grandchildren. (Also Cor and Clarus' reaction to the Deep City, because they *never knew it existed* - and I'd imagine that's quite a shock.)

Oh my gosh. Thank you so much! For some reason it always surprises me when peolpe say they like Dreams of Our Past. But I appreciate every single one of you with all my little author heart.

.

Regis felt like his insides had frozen over. His son was in danger. Finally he saw his son again, and he was in danger. But it was not a danger Regis could fight.

He sat in a cluttered kitchen, at an ancient wooden table along with Clarus and Cor and felt... nothing. Nothing but a fathomless pit called dread. His daughter-in-law was with his son. Something about making sure he drank his potions. The untouched tea in front of him had long gone luke warm.

Remembering his son's deathly pale face, the black slashes across his skin broken open and leaking magic so bright it was hard to look at, made his teeth grind together so hard it hurt.

Hushed noises from the door made him look up. Both Clarus and Cor stopped their hushed discussion, faces set in serious frowns. Regis should have been listening to what they were discussing, but he just... couldn't. The door was slightly ajar. Just enough so for a small face to peek halfway through. All he could see was a mop of wild brownish red hair and honey golden eyes blinking cautiously into the room, but that was enough.

For the first time in only the Gods knew how long, Regis moved. His joints protested rather soundly and a flaring pain in his knee made him press his lips into a tight line. Slowly he moved towards the door, leaning heavily on his cane. The little face vanished. Childish whispering came through the door. No sound of little feet running.

Regis pushed the door open and there they were. Two children, a younger boy and an older girl. Both looked up at him with large eyes, their shape nearly identical. Both so very clearly of the Lucis Caelum line. If Regis had been able, he would have knelt down. As his knee made that impossible, he settled for a warm smile. The searing cold freezing his insides started to thaw.

The boy toddled forward a few steps. A huge grin lit up his face, making him look nigh on identtical to Noctis at that age. Regis's heart nearly burst out of his chest.

"'Lo," the boy chirped. "I'm Astra! This's Soli, she don't like people."

"Astra!" the girl hissed.

"Hello," Regis said nearly on auto-pilot. His eyes burnt. "My name is Regis. It's truly a pleasure to meet you. Both of you."

Astra's storm grey eyes grew huge and his mouth fell into an 'o' shape. "You talk like Iggy! Soli, he talks like Iggy!"

The girl huffed at her brother. The grip she had on his jumper loosened. She looked up at Regis again, more curious now than cautious.

"You're him, right? Our grandpa?" she asked.

Regis could not bring himself to say another word, so he nodded. With a high pitched squeal Astra lurched forward, dragging his sister with him. She held her brother back enough to lessen the impact, but Regis still nearly lost his footing when they both collided with his legs.

Astra clung to his healthier leg like a little monkey while Solaris's arms wound around his waist. Regis nearly dropped his cane in his hast to hug both of them at once. He took a large, shuddering breath and silently the tears started to fall.

[luvlyycy]

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙧𝙩 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨?

ㅤ — ୧ 𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚒 ˳ 𝙲𝚈 ֗ 彡 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙰 ⭑⭒ ꜥ

୧ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ˳ ᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛꜱ ≛ ᴄᴀʀʀᴅ ֗ ʙᴏʏꜰɪᴇꜱ ! 彡 ⭑⭒ (＞∀＜) .

taken — by rinzler <3 . .

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝘐'𝘥 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 !

bisexual cvnt , 7teen — © luvlyycy.tumblr

old pinned post feat. my bf !

[caparrucia]

For the prompt meme, Cor and Nyx reunite after time apart, if it strikes you? Congrats on finishing your fic!

Thank you! Have some Witch!Nyx, because I haven't played with that verse in an age!

They meet again in the Nebulawood, exactly two years after the fall of Insomnia.

Rumor has it there’s a witch hiding in the woods, that she trades potions and elixirs for basic supplies. With the King dead and the Prince AWOL, the remnants of the Crownsguard and the mutinous forces from the Kingsglaive do not have the steady access to such things they once did. All the stashes remaining are carefully inventoried and painstakingly dosed out. But still, the rumors remain.

A witch in the woods, who cannot be found on command but who, if actually encountered, will trade a crate of potions for a week’s worth of water.

Once, a fledging recruit from Lestallum’s stronghold comes back with a crateful of elixirs and insists the witch asked for nothing at all.

It the rumor is true, Cor reckons it’s the elusive Witch of the Thicket, who’s been missing ever since Caem went up in flames. But it’s just as likely the rumors are false and it’s just a trap waiting for idiots to fall for it. Well, no bigger idiot than him around.

After a somewhat harrowing hunt – really, a series of increasingly annoying hunts, including what appeared to be a corrupted behemoth – Cor determines the following: the witch is no witch at all, and he is no she at all.

“You put on the ring, didn’t you?” Cor asks, watching Nyx sit back after their initial scuffle, which might have devolved into some playful sparring if not for the fact Nyx ran out of stamina halfway through.

Nyx grins, overgrown hair giving some credence to the misguided rumors, as it hides the bits of his face the obligatory witch-like cloak and hood doesn’t. His skin is charred and scarred, but not healed, glowing still like embers at the back of the fireplace.

“You know I’m a sucker for a bad deal,” Nyx replies, and beneath the ruin of his appearance, his eyes glint with the same stubborn, monstrous light they always did.

“I thought that was my line,” Cor says, offering a hand, trying to reach out.

“You shouldn’t get too close,” Nyx rebuked, but gentle, the way he always did whenever Cor tried to take a bunch of bad habits, some recurrent dates and their insistence to orbit one another, and make it into something approaching a relationship. “I’m due combusting any time now.”

“Combusting,” Cor says, deadpan.

Nyx grins, wide and wild and more than a little bit mad.

“They keep trying to smite me,” he says, eyes bright, “and I keep stealing their magic when they do.”

“Which you then turn into the supplies you’ve been distributing out of this shithole,” Cor surmises, impressed nonetheless at the sheer viciousness of it.

Nyx laughs.

“Hey, my shithole,” he shakes his head. “Fuck, it’s downright homey at this point.”

“You live in the skull of a dead behemoth,” Cor points out, because he can never resist the urge to quip back at Nyx and the reflex is there, like no time has passed at all.

Nyx laughs, a clattering noise, like a magpie but worse.

“I wouldn’t be a very good witch if I didn’t, right?”

Cor knows better than to nurse something as poisonous as hope in his heart. He knows better.

But of course, that has never stopped him before.