Also 51 for CorNyx bc I’m a sucker for nonverbal signs of love but also am very distracted atm. 😅
51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?
There is an unspoken agreement that, outside of certain situations within the quiet of Cor's apartment, Nyx should never approach Cor from behind. Not that there's any real risk of Nyx scaring Cor or anything--the man is preternaturally aware of his surroundings--but they both know that it will not end well on the off chance Nyx does catch him off-guard. The Armiger and the instantaneous access to weapons has lead to some... accidents, even amongst the most of senior of Crownsguard.
That, however, means that the times that Nyx does need to approach from behind need to be 'announced' in some way. In public, this has manifested in a slight elbow bump that has left many a recruit staring at Nyx in horrified awe. It's nothing special, really, it just so happens that Cor the Immortal is exactly the type of man the who looks like he would slaughter anyone who dared touch him at all, let alone with casual abandon. Which means that Nyx, in all his loud and proud Galahdian glory, is the only one who dares elbow the Marshal roughly in the middle of the Citadel halls.
Nyx's considers any tolerated action as close to a public declaration of love that his infamously emotionally-constipated boyfriend is ever going to manage, so he's happy to say 'I love you' through (mild) violence.
"I believe you dropped this?" Luna asked holding a piece of paper that had just fallen out of Nyx's pocket when he pulled off his deployment jacket.
"Ugh," Nyx said already half asleep on their couch. He knew he should get up and go take a shower but the idea of sleeping for more than an hour was too enticing. "Grocery list. You can toss it?"
"Why did you make a grocery list?" Luna asked sitting on the ground next to her husband. "Also you need to shower then you can sleep in our bed."
"I thought you were still in Insomnia," Nyx said yawning and refusing to sit up. "And you know I think it's weird to have the staff wait on me."
"Ah," Luna said nodding. "Well, my husband was coming home so I wanted to be here to see him."
"Your husband is a lucky man," Nyx said smiling softly at Luna. He had been away for two months training the new guard that was going to be responsible for protecting the royal family of Tenebrae so they had not seen each other in a while.
"And I am a lucky woman," Luna said kissing his cheek and standing up. "Now come on. I'll wash your hair and then you can pass out for a few hours in our bed."
"Fine," Nyx agreed slowly standing up. "But only if you let me snuggle you. I've missed you."
"I suppose that can be arranged," Luna agreed as she had already been planning on spending the rest of the day with her husband. "Now come along."
She sent the list on the side table and tugged Nyx in the direction of their shower smiling when the older man followed without any resistance. Tonight she would tell him the secondary reason that she was home early but for now she wanted to enjoy this time with her husband. He prince consort. This time with the father of the child she was carrying.
Nyx & Libertus (or Tredd) with 12. “I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.”?
Nyx blinked, stopping in his tracks before realizing how stupid that was and stepping to the side. That streak of red flying by had been distressingly familiar.
What had Tredd done now?
It was too late to be out for respectable reasons. Nyx wouldn’t be out himself if he hadn’t run late turning in those reports and missed the last train.
With a sigh, he jogged in the direction Tredd had gone. It didn’t take long to catch up to him considering he was still pulling on his clothes as he walked.
“Late night rendezvous go badly?” Nyx drawled as he pulled even with Tredd.
Tredd shot him a venomous stare. “Don’t even start with me, Ulric.”
Nyx eyed Tredd, the disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, the backwards shirt, and unbuttoned pants. He kept the sigh internal this time. “Come on, my place is closer than yours.”
Tredd scowled, but followed Nyx as he resumed walking. “I’m not fucking you.”
Nyx scoffed. “As if I would ever be that desperate. I know you, remember.”
Tredd sneered, then kept his eyes on his untied shoes as they walked.
The rest of the trip to Nyx’s apartment passed in silence. There was a unspoken etiquette the glaive practiced in times like this. If you came across a fellow glaive in a time of crisis, and you could, you took them somewhere safe to clean up. Anything said or done was kept between the people involved, and no one said anything in the light of day. In their line of work, everyone had bad nights, and it helped to know no one was going to hold it against you later.
This was far from the first time Nyx had offered his apartment to someone in need, but it was the first time it was Tredd. He respected Tredd as a fighter and a strategist, but he couldn’t say he liked the man.
He shook his head as he stopped staring into the blue light of the fridge and actually grabbed the two beers he’d come for. Tredd had already collapsed into his armchair, so Nyx handed him his beer and sat on his desk chair backwards so he could face Tredd and rest his arms on the back while they drank.
Tredd wouldn’t look at him as they took their respective drags on their bottles, but he was content to wait him out.
Tredd mumbled something in to the neck of his bottle before taking another swig.
“What was that?” Nyx raised an eyebrow at Tredd.
Tredd scowled and drank some more. He clutched the bottle, curling around it. “I’ve been buying the wrong kind of underwear.”
“What?”
Tredd sat up and gestured with the hand holding the bottle. “They don’t fit right! And they chafe! And the dye bleeds! I’m just trying to have a good time and she kicks me out because of a little color transfer!”
Nyx took a drink to stop the chuckle. “Maybe you shouldn’t buy the cheap stuff, then.”
Tredd snorted. “When I have to spend half my paycheck on equipment!” He slumped back down and finished the rest of the beer in one drag.
Nyx got up and grabbed Tredd another one without comment. It was true, was the thing. All the officers spent at least of some their paycheck on supplies. There never seemed to be enough in the official budget for necessities. Not to mention, the places that would rent to immigrants like them always seemed to charge more, despite the lack of maintenance.
They all knew about cutting corners to get by.
Nyx leaned forward to clink his bottle against Tredd’s, ignoring the glare he received, and took a sip. “I know a store on Victoria Drive that has good deals on Mondays. I’ll take you sometime.”
Tredd grumbled but didn’t say no. It wouldn’t fix everything, but the glaive looked after its own.
fuck it, that's a decent title for the extremely half-baked, let's say quarter-baked, fic that I sometimes gently rotate in my brain wherein not long after Fëanor is re-embodied in the Fourth Age, all 5 of Finwë's children get absolutely hammered together and actually manage to talk out old grievances.
Highlights would include:
each one gets a POV section
Lalwen is the one who organized this. She lied to 3/4th of them about what they were going to do and/or who was going to be there, then locked the door once they were all in the parlor and broke the knob so no one could just pick it. (Didn't bother to lie to Arafinwë; Fingolfin suspected and came anyway; Fëanor and Findis both thought their parents were going to be present for this "family game night")
all the rest have concluded already that Fëanor is youngest now. Fëanor is trying so hard to be a good sport about this, complaining only jokingly, but he genuinely hates it, superficially for the injury to his pride and deeply for the reminder that his long time in Mandos was his own fault
Lalwen: "Alright, now we're going to play a game called 'admit and apologize for the worst thing you did because you were angry at your sibling! I'll start: Ara, I really shouldn't have lied to you that Gil-galad was your great-grandson."
Lalwen: "Fëanor, your turn - and you can't say leaving us all behind and burning the ships!"
Fëanor: "I wasn't going to, actually."
Lalwen: "Why the FUCK not?"
70% of conversations devolve into proud bickering over who has the best descendants, with Findis and Lalwen offering opinions as the mood strikes
Lalwen: "Your great-grandson dropped a DRAGON on me!"
Fingolfin: "I think the modern term is...improve yourself."
Everyone: "..."
Findis: "...Nolo, are you trying to say 'get good'?"
Fëanor, smugly: "Wow, that is so fail of you, Nolofinwë. I've only been alive again for three years and I already have mad skills with the novel memetic verbiage of the youth."
Fëanor, bolting upright from sleep at like 5am when they'd all mostly drifted off: "The sword! I want to look at Arafinwë's sword! Come on, let's go!"
[everyone shuffles with varying degrees of dexterity to the grand royal hall, where Justice of the Noldor hangs in its sheath above the great door, far opposite the throne. What follows is a half-sober discussion of kingship and a very uncoordinated attempt by 5 half-drunk people to lift down and unsheathe an enchanted broadsword crafted to kill a god and recognize a true king. Possibly also a dash of Prophecy is given]
Findis, most sober throughout the night, wakes Fëanor up again. "Come on 'Náro, help me get the young'uns to bed." She corrects herself: "Relative to me, obviously. Old'uns to you."
If it sparks your interest, SIO Cor and Titus interacting? If not, no pressure. Hope you're doing well.
Titus reminds Cor of a kicked dog, and he makes absolutely sure to never share that insight with anyone, because he knows it to be unkind. Titus bares his teeth and relishes in the war in a way that makes Cor uncomfortable. A lot of things about Titus make him uncomfortable, and he can't help but feel bad about it.
It's not Titus' fault that Cor is so fucked up he doesn't even know how to do trauma right.
Titus thinks of the war and his eyes light up with fury. He's angry and he doesn't care to hide it. Relishes in it. His losses and his pain are the whetstone that sharpened his edge. He nudges Cor and taunts about starting a rivalry to needle the men under their command to become stronger, better, deadlier.
Cor thinks of the war, and he's exhausted. He thinks of the war and can't not see the way Mors' eyes dimmed year over year. He thinks of the war and he can't not hear the vitriol building up in Aulea's voice, overflowing steadily into eating a hole in Regis' soul.
There's no glory in war, as far as Cor's concerned. There's only death and the few unlucky idiots who survive long enough to mourn the lucky ones. War is a hammer perpetually shaping their country against the anvil of prophecy. But Titus doesn't know that. No one knows about that, cannot know about that.
Titus is a leader, born to stand at the head of large swathes of people who believe in him. That's why Regis plucked him out from the front lines and put him in charge. Because he can make people believe in him, to put their best effort in supporting his goals, which by then they're sure are their goals too. Titus is smart and personable and good at politics. He is everything Sylvia scolds Cor for not being, for not even trying to be.
Cor is the Immortal, and Titus takes the nickname almost like a taunt, because he's too blinded by his own self-righteous fury to understand the meaning of it.
"We're retreating," Cor says, at the tail of the latest skirmish out in Cleigne, watching the larger MT armors fold back, effectively abandoning the remnants of their infantry.
They're slow and uncoordinated and basically sitting ducks in the slopes along the terrain. They're distressingly human, compared to the much more efficient movements of the automatons that have largely replaced them.
"The fuck we're doing that," Titus snarls, standing up to his full height to try and make Cor cower. "We're already here, there's no reason to not finish the job."
"We have finished the job," Cor says, with a small shrug. "The battle is won, the enemy is retreating and we held the line."
"We risk nothing if we wipe them out!" Titus insists, agitated.
"We gain nothing, either," Cor points out, laconic. "Whether they live or they die, they'll be replaced by the walking cans anyway. The fact they couldn't break the line here is proof enough."
"What about my men? What about their revenge?" Titus hisses, none of the personable charm he wielded in Insomnia, because he'd long learned none of it worked on Cor. "Think about the morale boost if--"
"You hate too easily, Drautos," Cor says, shaking his head. "It'll get you killed, one day, not having clarity of who you actually hate."
"You--"
"You have your orders, Captain," Cor insists, walking away. "Carry them out."
Titus is silent for a moment, and then he speaks, and as always, it is polite and collected and makes Cor's spine want to shiver with the sheer threat of it:
Would you consider air, spirit, and/or summer for the elemental ask? Thanks! I love your writing, even though I’ve been engaging less with your work for other fandoms, I’m glad you’re having fun! Honestly, it makes me smile even if I don’t read the fic when I see you post your work. ♥️
No worries about it - I certainly drop my engagement in authors when they don't post for the fandoms I know/care about (or even when it's a fandom I love but I'm just not in the mood for it!) so I can't ask my own readers to follow me to places they don't know or care about, either. I'm honoured I can still make you smile without you even reading them, though!
Air: What’s the easiest part of writing for you?
I wouldn't say there's a single thing that's easier than the others - it all depends on my mood, my muses, and what's going on in that moment elsewhere. When I know what I want to write and the muses are flowing and I have the time... I can write anything with ease when the stars align (unfortunately that's not all that often and usually there's something throwing me off-kilter somewhere in the arrangement, not necessarily enough to stop the flow, but things happen nonetheless).
I suppose on some level the easiest part of writing is just... writing? Immersing myself in the world that isn't reality and letting that swallow me up for a while, ignoring whatever's going on in the real world around me until I'm forced to resurface.
Spirit: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received on your writing?
The ones that tell me my fic feels like canon/could be canon/they forget it isn't canon. Where I'm told my work feels like it fully belongs in that universe. I write for the fandoms I do because I love them, and I love the original content, so to be compared to the original content like that... it's a true honour, to be frank.
Summer: How do you know when you need a break from writing?
When it starts to feel like a chore. When I'm sat here worrying about how I haven't written or posted anything new in a couple of days, I know it's reached a point where I need to sit back, stop, relax and recharge. Because this is supposed to be fun, and when the fun stops, why am I doing this? I have a full time job. I have obligations irl. Writing is one of my main escapes from that, so when it doesn't feel like an escape any more... it's time to recharge. Go do something else. I'm an artist, too, so sometimes that's drawing (like it has been this week!). Sometimes it's just devouring things other people have written. Sometimes it's something else. But not writing. Not for as long as I feel like I should be writing, rather than because I want to be.
Your Galahkar Culture Masterpost is fantastic! I loved rereading all your fascinating lore ideas and it gave me so many questions. I will limit myself to three. ^_^ First, we know the water clans have rivalry? Do the smithing clans? Two, how did orange get the meaning of secrets? I’m sure there is a story. And third, what happens for funerals and weddings for people with no clan, or are the last of their clan, or their clan head is on a different island/separated by war? Thanks so much for sharing all your lovely ideas.
Thank you! I don't think I caught all the posts, but those are the big (and some small) ones. Took a bit to dig through them all.
You always ask such wonderful questions.
First:
Yes, the smithing Clans have a rivalry. Just not as extreme as some water clans. Clans Pontos and Najad have a feud because Clan Pontos accidentally destroyed one of the Najad's fishing grounds and refused to compensate for it.
Clans Utris and Gohlann are smithing Clans, but they have different specialities. The Gohlanns do the rougher work, the large pieces and things you need for building houses and so on. The Utris do the finer work. Household items, weapons and other small things. So their rivalry is more along the lines of "stay in your own lane" and "if you had done your job properly" and less "I'm going to murder you when I see you".
Two:
Red, yellow and orange are all associated with fire to certain degrees. They all take different aspects of it.
Red is the burning passion and destructive power, yellow the warmth of the hearth and orange the secrets whispered to the flames. As for why historically and context? As soon as I figure that out, I could propably write a dissertation about it. XD
Third:
People without a Clan are one of the very few exceptions where friends can build the pyre and be part of burning th body. They still get full funeral rites despite being Nameless since they still lived thier lives as Galahkari.
Normally, if the Clan is too small to handle a funeral, the family does it, blood and chosen family included. For Nyx that would include Libertus, Crowe and Ladone.
If it's the Clan Head who died, the chosen heir prepares the body. If the Clan is too small (like the Ulrics) then an Ostium will do the task. It's their task to make sure people get proper burials, so even if the Clan Head might be unable to come for whatever reason, the dead person still gets a proper funeral.
I wish you would write a fic where Nyx gets in a snowball fight. :P
Here you go! Snowball fight:
“Nyx!” The excited squeal echoed throughout the house, causing the boy in question to groan and tug the covers over his head. It was way too early to be up, he had worked the late shift at the restaurant. Selena could wait a few more hours.
“Nyx! Wake up!” Selena shouted. Nyx swore he could feel the whole house shake as she ran across it to get to his door. “You gotta wake up! Nyyyyyyyyyx!”
“Go away!” Nyx fished the pillow out from beneath his head to instead place it over it to muffle the excited shouts of his frankly annoying little sister. “‘m sleeping!”
“But Nyx!” Selena whined, banging his door. At least she hadn’t just barged in this time. Maybe she had finally learned not to after bursting in while he had been in the middle of changing his clothes.
“Nyx, you gotta see this! Look out of the window!”
Nyx muttered a swear under his breath. “Can’t this wait a few hours? I’m tired!”
“No!” Selena exclaimed. “Pleaseeeee, you gotta look out! It’s all white!”
Nyx’s retort died on his lips the moment the last part registered in his brain. What the hell was Selena talking about? “White?”
“Yeah, white! It’s all cold and stuff, like snow!”
Nyx huffed. “Go away, Lena, that’s a stupid joke. You know it doesn’t snow here. Go bother mom instead or something.”
“No, you’re stupid!” Selena shouted, and Nyx could tell she was getting upset as well. “Fine! Be stupid if you wanna, but I’m never playing with you ever again!”
Nyx sighed and threw his pillow to the foot of the bed as he sat up. He was annoyed and would rather be sleeping, but that didn’t mean he wanted to upset Selena. It would only take a few minutes to play along. He could do that and sleep until noon afterwards if he wanted to.
“I’m getting up!” he told her, swinging his legs off the bed. Cool air rushed to meet his bare skin and he shivered, instantly longing for the warmth of his bed. It was weird, Nyx didn’t think it should be that cold. Hopefully he wasn’t catching a cold or anything, that would suck. He didn’t want to postpone the fishing trip he and Libertus had planned with their dads.
“Yay! Hurry up!”
Nyx rolled his eyes but couldn’t entirely stop a small, fond smile from spreading over his lips. Selena might have been annoying but she could be kind of adorable, too, sometimes. Not that he would ever tell her that, she was already trying to use the kicked puppy look everytime she was after something. Standing up, Nyx pulled on a pair of pants and threw on the shirt from yesterday while making his way to the door.
“Alright, show me,” Nyx told Selena as he stepped out into the hall. “Then I’m going back to sleep.”
“You’re not gonna be able to sleep when you see it!” Selena grinned and wrapped her hand around his, determined to drag him through the house to wherever. Nyx snorted and let her do it. She took him right to the front door and swung it open, banging against the porch railing – something their mom wouldn’t be too happy about – and pointed outside.
Nyx blinked as even colder air surged through and clung to his skin. It made the hairs on his arms and legs stand up, but he was barely aware of it as he stared forward, at the ground and the trees, both covered in a good few inches of white powder.
Snow.
Their village was covered in snow.
“How…?”
“See, I told you!” Selena tugged on his arm, jumping up and down with child-like excitement that Nyx had lost since entering his teenage years. “That’s snow, right? Like, there’s not supposed to be snow – but there is! So cool!”
“Uh, yeah,” Nyx mumbled, his head tilting. Maybe he wasn’t actually awake, and this was some bizarre, hyper realistic dream. “Snow.”
“Can we play in it?” Selena asked. “Pretty please? I wanna build a snowman like Gina and Bethany do in that one book. Can we? Please?”
Nyx shrugged, not even fully listening as his brain recalibrated. “I don’t see why not. Just – just put on something warmer, it’s cold.”
“Yay!” Selena squealed and hugged Nyx tightly. “You’ll play with me, right?”
Nyx huffed a small laugh. “Sure.”
That was all Selena needed before dashing back inside to change. Nyx wasn’t all that sure if they would be warm enough for the weather, it never snowed in Galahd, but hopefully it would be enough to give them an hour or two before it got too cold to stay outside. Nyx followed Selena inside, making sure to close the door behind them not to let the heat escape, and went to dig through his closet. He was pretty sure he had a thick fleece hoodie in there somewhere from his dad.
Ten minutes later Selena was dragging him through the door again and jumping down the porch steps into the snow. She squealed and released Nyx to scoop a handful of the powder to throw it in the air over their heads.
“It’s so cold!” Selena said in wonder, looking down at her hands, now wet from melted snow. She then turned towards Nyx and unceremoniously wiped her hands on his hoodie before running off.
“Catch me if you can!”
“Hey!” Nyx exclaimed, spreading his arms as he looked down at the wet patch. His eyes narrowed, but his tone was playful as he ran after her. “You better run, brat!”
He chased Selena all through the village,slipping and sliding on smooth-soled shoes. Selena’s loud giggles drew everyone’s attention as they passed, but Nyx couldn’t hold his own laughter for long either, especially not when he finally caught up to her and tackled her into the snow, twisting them around so that he took the brunt of the fall. He shivered as some of the snow slid down his neck and back.
“Let me go!” Selena managed to get out, breathless from running and laughing. She squirmed in his hold, bony elbows digging into Nyx’s sides, and he released her with a grunt.
“You’re too freaking bony!” Nyx complained half-heartedly, sitting up and rubbing the sore spot that Selena had left behind.
Selena let out a menacing laugh and plopped down in the snow to make a snow messenger. Nyx rolled his eyes and brushed snow off his pants and hoodie.
“Do one, too, Nyx! This is fun!” Selena told him, her puppy dog eyes in full action once again as she looked at him.
“Nah, I think I’ll pass,” Nyx told her with a shake of a head. “I’ll help you build the snowman though, if you still want to –”
A snowball smashed to the side of Nyx’s head, eliciting a startled yelp from him. He wiped the snow off and glared into the direction it had come from.
“Hey! Who was that?” he shouted, but then his gaze came across none other than Libertus Ostium with Pelna at his side. There was another snowball ready to be thrown in Libertus’ hand.
Nyx’s eyes narrowed, and he reached over to Selena to tap her arm. She sat up, eyes slightly wide as she followed his gaze back to the two boys.
“Ulric siblings versus me and Libs, that’s not a fair fight!” Pelna exclaimed.
“You should’ve thought of that before throwing that snowball!” Nyx shot back, a wide grin spreading across his face as he stood up and offered Selena a hand up. “You in, Lena?”
“Yeah!” Selena bounced on the balls of her feet. “We’ll kick their asses!”
Nyx winced. Their mom would not be happy to find out she had picked up more bad words. “Don’t say that word around mom, alright? She’ll ground the both of us.”
Selena giggled and nodded.
“Alright,” Nyx said and nudged her with a conspiratory look. “Let’s kick their asses.”
Selena let out a battle cry and scooped up a handful of snow, barely taking the time to shape it into a ball before throwing it at Libertus. It missed him by a foot, but then they were all moving, diving for cover and making snowballs to throw. Laughter rang through the buildings as other children from around the village joined them. Nyx and Selena made a great team, and much to Pelna and Libertus’ chagrin, they kept them as their main target, pelting them with snow every chance they got. At one point Nyx managed to sneak close enough to tackle Libertus into the snow, laughing as he shoved snow down the front of his coat before dancing away from Pelna’s attempted attack.
Nyx didn’t even know how long they kept going, but eventually the chill got to them, forcing them to call it quits to retreat into the warmth of their homes. He and Selena were both wet but happy, even as their mom admonished them for being out in the cold for so long. It was all worth it though, and she had a mug of hot chocolate prepared for them both by the time they had changed into dry clothes. They bundled up under a warm blanket in the living room, sipping their drinks and watching some old animation on the TV.
That’s how they fell asleep, leaning against each other, Selena’s head tucked under Nyx’s chin as their mother adjusted the blanket around them.
