#geist writes

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Remember that idea about Regis thinking Ardyn is his brother and derailing the peace talks? The one you definitely were not going to write?

Anyway, how's it doing?

*makes the sound of a dying engine*

It's going. Somehow. And slower than a snail. The muses dared to abandon me for a few months there and I was not happy about it. At all.

------

For the first time in years - maybe even decades - Ardyn did not know what to do. The only reason he kept a grin fixed on his face was pure habit. It was the kind of grin that made both Aldercapt and Besithia grind their teeth loud enough that he could hear it. It was amusing. Regis's reaction, however, was a strange kind of bemused worry.

Ardyn wanted to be angry about it. He really did. But instead something deep within him seemed to relax. Just the tiniest bit. It made him feel like he was about to fall apart. Was this another one of Bahamut's tortures?

"Apologies, Majesty. I was too engrossed with this truly marvellous meal, to catch your gestion. May I trouble you to repeat it?"

The Lord Shield shifted in his seat like he dearly wanted to say something, but held his tongue. The King must have given his trained dog instructions on how to behave beforehand. How... cute.

"No worries, Chancellor. Our cooks have simply outdone themselves this time." Regis gave Ardyn a smile that could have been bland but somehow wasn't. Ardyn didn't know what it was. "I was simply wondering how you have come to hold the position of Chancellor. There must be quite a story there."

Ardyn did not know how, but somehow the King managed to communicate a kind of earnest curiosity that made his stomach churn. He needed to know what the King thought he knew about the situation. The question was how to go about it.

He took another bite of whatever was on his plate. It tasted like stale ash.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Salt Line Snippet

“Let me out!” it shrieked, the pitch rising impressively even higher. “Let me out! You useless sacks of flesh and dirt! Thieves! Thieves who want to steal Io! Let me out! Let me out, let me out, letmeoutletmeout!”

“Kohna. Tredd, couldn't you have included a silencing matrix?” Axis asked, pressing his hands over his ears at the ever escalating racket the creature was making.

Tredd gave him the stink eye. “You think making rune matrixes is easy? Next time you can do it and include your silencing matrix. I really want to see it explode in your face.”

“It was your idea,” Solitus pointed out rather blandly.

“Hey, stop talking! What are you even talking about? Io wants to understand, too! Let me ooooouuuuut!”

“I'll let you out,” Tredd interrupted the next high pitched tirade. “If you give me some answers in return.”

The sudden silence resonated like a ringing bell. The creature stopped flailing, seemed frozen. Only the glittering dust coming from its back, seemingly forming some type of wings, kept moving.

“You,” it yelled, pointing its finger at Tredd rather aggressively, “do not get to have answers! You imprisoned me!”

“It's not my fault you flew right into the trap.”

“You made the trap!”

“And?”

That stopped the creature short once again. It honestly looked kind of hilarious. Tredd didn't bother to hide his grin.

“Besides,” Tredd continued, “It's not like it's too bad. There's a whole cup of sweet cream right there.”

The creature whirled around to where Tredd was pointing, giving off a squeal as soon as it saw the cup. It lunged forward, only to tumble back when it reached the edge of the inner rune circle. With flailing limbs it fell on its ass. Tredd barked a laugh.

“That's not fair!” the creature wailed.

“Life isn't fair,” Tredd said.

“You!” It jumped back on its feet, hair bristling like it was an angry cat. “You are worse than the Lionheart!”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

The huff the creature released was enough to sprinkle its glittery dust everywhere. It sparkled in every colour of the rainbow in the half-shadows of a late afternoon. “That wasn't a compliment.”

“Oh, I know. But I don't want compliments from you, I want answers.”

Tiny blue arms were crossed in front of a tiny blue chest. This creature couldn't be taller than Tredd's forearm. “Answers are expensive. And I will make you pay double for trapping me in this!”

Tredd exchanged a look with the other three standing a few paces back. This was not going quite like expected. For one, this creature, this Good Neighbour, was acting more emotional than any self-respecting fihrie ever would. With maybe the exception of Nyx Ulric, but that man was a special case anyway. Luche actually had the audacity to roll his eyes as if to say 'it was your idea, you deal with it'. Tredd snorted and focussed all his attention back onto the creature.

“I'll pay half. Your own carelessness got you caught. I have nothing to do with that.” He pointed at the small cup of sweet cream. “One of those for each answered question. But only if that answer is to my satisfaction.”

Grey eyes focussed on the sweat cream with all the ferocity of a predator about to make a kill. “Agreed!”

With a satisfied smirk Tredd crossed his arms in front of his chest. The creature – from its earlier ramblings Tredd thought its name might be Io, not that he cared overly much, but it might be useful – tried to once more leap towards the cup, but was repelled once again by the crackling flare of the runes. A true work of art, if Tredd said so himself.

“Fine then!” it said, glittering dust floating every which way. “Tell me what answers you want. But once this is over I'll turn your fallen hair into needles!”

Well, that was certainly a unique threat. Tredd had to give it that. He shifted his weight slightly in thought before he answered. “Tell me everything you know about the one known as Cor Leonis.”

“That's worth at least two cups!”

“Oh? You didn't even start to fulfil our deal and already want to renegotiate? Not very cunning now, is it?”

The thing pouted, lower lip jutted forward and cheeks puffed up. Tredd grinned, showing as many teeth as he could. It released the air with a high pitched sound that reminded him of a balloon.

“Fine then! You are no fun, fire-head.” It sat down, crossing stick thin legs. “The Lionheart is the strongest of us here, so he makes us all be sneaky and not obvious. That's a fun game, but sometimes there is someone stupid and Io really wants to turn their bones into salt. Playing with children is the most fun, but Lionheart forbid it. Pax really doesn't like that. The time and joy children have really is the best!”

Tredd interrupted the wall of words with a sudden snarl. “You dare harm one of our children and I will end you.”

Sparkling dust burst around the tiny blue figure, if in fear or something else Tredd could not say. “You can't do that!” it exclaimed.

“I'll trade a favour, if I must,” Tredd said, voice low and hard.

Behind him he could hear someone release a hissing breath. He could practically imagine the silent conversation going on between the three. Axis would never let him trade a favour, should it come to it, and Luche would never even let it go that far. Though the only one he would ever trade a favour with was Nyx, not that anybody needed to know that.

Silver eyes stared at Tredd through sparkling dust. Then the tiny creature grinned, mean and sharp teethed. “It would be interesting to see you lose yourself for a favour. But the Lionheart doesn't like it when his humans do that. He then gets all grumpy and mean. When he first came here he tore a poor fae to shreds because he became grumpy and mean.”

Finally they were starting to get somewhere.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 32/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: currently none planned/may change Characters: Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, Pelna Khara, Luche Lazarus, Sonitus Bellum, Tredd Furia, Axis Arra, Titus Drautos | Glauca, Cor Leonis, Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII, Clarus Amicitia, The Kingsglaive (Final Fantasy XV), Insomnian Court Additional Tags: Blue mage!Nyx, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Galahd (Final Fantasy XV), Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Galahdian Religion, Religion, Languages and Linguistics, War, Discrimination, Culture Shock, Politics, Swearing, Worldbuilding, headcanons galore, rated for swearing and violence Series: Part 1 of Born Into the Wilds Summary:

For generations there have been stories about the Ulrics. They have coeurls blood running through their veins, they say. It shows when they protect what belongs to them. Do not come between an Ulric and what they consider theirs. The consequences will not be pretty. Of course Nyx knew the stories. He just never gave much stock in them, not after he failed so miserably in protecting his family. Then a mission goes south and something in him wakes up. It's old and wild and animalistic and oh, there must be more to the old stories than he thought. It gains the attention of Insomnia's upper crust and suddenly everything is different. Suddenly the rest of Eos is confronted with powers they have written off for thousands of years. Powers that may just be the non-lethal solution to the ancient prophecy Regis is so desperately looking for. Eos beware: Galahd is not as dead as you may think it to be.

Or: The main story to the series.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Born Into the Wilds - Chapter 32 Snippet

When Nyx awoke, he did so with a metallic taste in his mouth and a slight headache. He had no idea what time it was. Peeling his eyes open, he groaned in appreciation when he saw the bottle of water waiting on his bedside table. A vague memory of Athina coaxing him into bed resurfaced in his mind. Nyx felt his cheeks grow red. The embarrassment would come later, however. Probably. First he needed to drink that water, get out of bed and then hunt down some breakfast. Not literally though, no matter how fun that would be and how much he would like to vanish into the wilds for a bit.

His hand pushed forward, groping for the water. It took two tries, and in the process he nearly pushed over a vial he had missed entirely. Its contents were a matte turquoise. Nyx would have to check the smell, but it seemed to be a home-made potion.

The water was a balm to his throat and thankfully mostly got rid of the metallic taste in his mouth. It also gave him the energy to push himself upright. He looked around and everything seemed normal for the most part. His boots were by his bedside instead of by the door and on his small dining table there was a plate filled with what seemed like crackers. He had been dressed down to his last layer of clothes, a tunic and a pair of trousers.

With a quiet grunt he pushed himself to sit at the edge of his bed and took the vial into his hands. Uncorking it released a muted mossy and earthy smell. A very mild healing potion. It tasted slightly salty, but within moments his headache slowly started to recede. For this he owed Athina big time. She was amazing and he would have to thank her the next time he saw her. And maybe gift her something to show his appreciation.

Nyx squinted at the far away wall. From his position on the bed the clock was barely visible and his phone stayed dark when he tried to check the time. Damn. Judging by the light illuminating his apartment, it must be right around sunrise. He fished for his phone's charging cable in his night stand and plucked it into the wall. He should have kept a better eye on his phone's battery. Oh well, if someone wanted something from him they would need to do it the old fashioned way then. By coming to him.

One change of clothes, a few crackers and half a mug of tea later that was exactly what happened.

A knock sounded at the door. Three quick raps with the knuckles, then there was a short pause, then three quick raps again. By the third iteration the raps had grown louder and Nyx had abandoned his tea on the kitchen counter. By the Spirits, he shouldn't have jinxed it. He opened the door and nearly got hit in the jaw for it.

“Good morning to you, too, Ladone,” Nyx said, dry as dust.

“Good morning, Nyx,” was the equally dry reply.

“Everything alright?”

The corners of Ladone's mouth twisted. “Depends.”

Nyx sighed and stepped aside. “Come in,” he said. “Tea?”

“You don't have to ask.”

With a shrug Nyx closed the door and returned to his kitchenette to prepare another cup of tea. It grew strangely quiet between them. It was the kind of quiet that made Nyx restless with anticipation.

“Good news or bad news?” he asked as he put down the cup in front of his unexpected guest and sat down at the table across from her.

“Depends,” she said again.

This time Nyx rolled his eyes. “If you knocked at my door at this hour for a 'depends', I'm going to zap you,” he threatened only half-serious.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Bahamut is residing in the Crystal hiding in Eos' heart But too much light can be very much a bad thing. Too much Light can blind even an Astral, especially if given a couple of millennia to work.

What I'm saying is that maybe Bahamut can no longer see as clearly as he used to, especially over large distances (Niflheim) or into places that are somehow in conflict with his domain (underwater, underground, lately even dense forests)

What I'm saying is Eos blinded the son born of her own blindness, the son born of the blood of her sacrifice.

Once upon a time long forgotten Bahamut's domain was blood and sacrifice. Blood willingly spilled for others and sacrifices made out of love and compassion. The embodiment of the most powerful act their own mother had ever done.

Once upon a time long forgotten mothers used to worship Bahamut. The blood and sacrifices given by mothers to their children was what Bamahut was once known for. Before he sharpened his wings into blades and encased his body in armour. Before the cruelty and the betrayal.

Once upon a time long forgotten a man went to battle. Men before him had gone to battle - to a long eries of battles that had yet to receive the name of 'war'. But this man was different. His blood was spilled and he sacrificed the wholeness of his body in the name of protection and justice. Blood and sacrifice was given - and Bahamut answered.

Believes shift, religions transform. And once upon a time long forgotten Bahamut picked up a sword and the world changed.

Once, a mother loved her child. The embodiment of her most selfless act. She loved her child so much she did not see the beginnings of the downward spiral that would change the world forever.

Once Eos loved Bahamut, her favoured child. Once, Eos could not conceive of a world where blood and sacrifice would turn to war and betrayal. But it did.

Once Bahamut knew what a mother would do for her children. Blood and sacrifice. Once they knew, but started to forget when they first picked up a sword. It was a scrifice to their own altar in the name of power.

There was once a time Eos loved all her children. It was a knowledge Bahamut could not bear. Out of a man going to battle War was born. Out of a love poisoned by jealousy Betrayal was born.

War and Betrayal nearly caused the world to be swallowed by Sickness and Chaos, and demanded Blood and Sacrifice to right their own wrongs.

Once upon a time Bahamut grew blind to what a mother would do for her children. What Eos would do for all her children she loves. Her heart still beats and her light still shines, and Bahamut cannot look away. Unable to see the shadows hidden by the brilliant light.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Wassup? I've just realised that if Elate ever gets a DNA test, Regis and co will come to conclusion that Niflheim cloned Mors and then lost that clone.

Ohhhhhh

Hmm...

You know, there was at least on emeeting between Mors and Aldercapt in canon that we know of. So that assumption would not be impossible. Especially since Regis knows about the MTs being clones.

***

The hug came rather suddenly, though not without forewarning. Mors never had liked close physical contact. Especially after his marriage. So he could have dodged, taken step back, and Regis would have backed off. Mors knew he would have respected that boundary, because he had done so before. Multiple times.

It was the look on Regis's face however, that made him stay still and let himself be cradled in his arms. At least that was what Mors told himself.

Within moments warmth seeped into Mors's bones. All encompassing and protecting. He supressed a shudder. A large, aged hand carded through his hair and the sensation did make him shiver.

"Elate."

Something about the way Regis said his name made Mors look up, his cheek still pressed against Regis's chest.

"You know that you will alway be my son, no matter how you came to be, right?"

Mors... did not know what to say to that. So remained silent. The look of absolute anguish that crossed Regis's face made something within Mors whine.

"Why are you saying that?" he forced himself to ask.

Anything to get that look off of Regis's face. No matter what age Mors was now, which name he bore, that was still his son.

The hand was back in his hair and Mors felt himself go boneless. Everything was warm.

"Remember the blood test we had done? According to the test you have the exact same geneting makeup as my father."

Suddenly all the warmth that Mors had previously felt was gone. Muscles stiff and minf racing he tried to push Regis away. The act was up. He had thought he had more time. When he had been King blood and DNA tests had taken weeks not a mere two days. What would his son think of him now? What would happen now? What-?

Regis's arms did not yield. Instead, Regis seemed to pull Mors impossibly closer.

"Elate. It's alright. Everything is alright. Elate. Son, please. I'm so sorry. So sorry this happened to you."

The words reached dimly through Mors's racing thoughts, and when they registered, he stilled his struggle, surprised and tense. He stared at the rug covering the floor. His own breathing seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Regis's steady heartbeat was a strangely grounding force. Mors's mind clung to it for all it was worth.

Regis sighed. Long and deep.

"Elate, you are still my son. You are still Noctis's brother, Hiemi's brother-in-law. Solaris is still your niece, Astra your nephew and Ardyn your uncle. That will never change, no matter what. Being my father's clone does not change that. We love you and you are part of this family."

Mors blinked. Regis thought... what? What was a clone? Mors looked up at his son, and had to look away again, not able to bear the tender look on his face.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he managed to relax. He would figure out what a clone was and work from there. But for now he would stay right here. Just for a little longer.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius & Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric, Pelna Khara & Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius & Cor Leonis Characters: Cor Leonis, Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, Pelna Khara Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Feels, Birthday, Birthday Party, Engagement Summary:

It's Nyx's birthday. The party will be full of surprises for him.

[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.