the funny thing about cornyx is in a sea of all these pretty anime-like characters, they looked at each other and went "yep i want the guy that's like me but 20 years older/younger"
and i don't mean appearance-wise (or not only that) or personality-wise, but they're both highly regarded, loyal soldiers with tons of battlefield experience yet belong to different divisions
i'm just thinking about how much trust and respect nyx seemed to have for drautos and in the kingsglaive, and how that trust was ultimately betrayed. had nyx survived, i could imagine he'd have trust/authority issues after that—especially with how cor seems to takeover the "reformed" kingsglaive in ffxv comrades/royal edition. there's stuff to work with there, i feel, in a post-kingsglaive setting. plus the irony that nyx might've been a great crownsguard member, y'know if he hadn't been denied the opportunity (based on his ethnicity + socioeconomic status)
Cor isn't Immortal. They *say* he is, but he bleeds just like any other man.
His husband *is*, and he's kept that secret for a very long time. Until now, of course, because fate and authorial interest demand it.
The blast catches him by surprise.
Frag grenades, in a barrage at close range. The shield comes into being on reflex, but Cor is not exactly well-versed in magic, so it only mitigates the damage rather than negate it entirely.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” comes the mocking singsong voice, as the smoke clears and Cor catches a sight of the garish golden gleam of the MT armor.
Fuck.
He stands up, limbs loose and sword back at his hand, ignoring the places where his body is screaming at him.
“Ulldor,” Cor says, well aware that, despite it all, the gloating asshole is not going to be able to resist temptation and talk his ear off.
“Oh, what an honor to be recognize by such an illustrious peer,” Caligo says, his fucking monstrosity of a golden MA swaying forward as he approached.
Cor reckons he has one or two good hits still left in him, at least until he cracks a potion to recover some. But Ulldor isn’t a greenhorn that can be easily cowered simply by being in the presence of the Immortal, so Cor can buy enough time to use his provisions. Ulldor, despite how much Cor personally dislikes the bastard, is in fact capable. Skilled enough to pose a threat, even on a good day, much less when he is on the back step after a successful ambush.
“Do you really think we’re peers?” Cor asks, eyebrows arched as he ignores the sound machine guns realigning as they take aim at him, a few dozen red lasers pointing at his body. “You’re a general now, aren’t you, Ulldor?” Cor grins mockingly. “And me?”
A kukri flies into the side of the cockpit, blade embedding into the reinforced glass like it was butter.
Cor takes advantage of Caligo’s hesitation to duck out of the line of fire, bracing against a piece of wall debris as Nyx appears seconds later, slamming into place with the force of a tac-nuke made of magic. Cor cracks the potion open and huddles as the screaming of fire and magic eventually dies out, leaving behind a sizable crater and about half an inch of pulverized dust.
Cor stands up slowly, wounds closing much slower than Nyx’s: entire patches of skin growing back where the force of the impact tore him to pieces.
“I’m just the vanguard,” Cor says, watching Nyx lean over and pluck his kukri out of the wreckage. “Funny how they never figure out to ask for whom, huh?”
“Better that way, really,” Nyx replies, throwing him a hi-elixir that Cor cracks open when he catches it.
The last of his wounds close up, and the kick of adrenaline has him back at full power before the green sparkles finish dying off.
“What’s the matter, afraid of what title they’d give you, if they knew you existed?” Cor asks, walking fully into Nyx’s personal space, so he can kiss him.
“I mean, yeah,” Nyx replies, laughing even as he kisses back. “Imagine if I got something gaudy like the Immortal or some shit?”
Cor shoves him off remorselessly, even though his eyes dance while Nyx laughs and gracefully recovers without stumbling.
“C’mon, Safay Roth is still inbound for Caem,” Cor says staring down the plains towards the lone lighthouse in the distance.
“You go ahead,” Nyx replies, snickering. “Like a proper vanguard! I’ll clean up the stragglers before catching up.”
Nyx crouches for a moment, before he leaps back up into the sky, lightning, storm clouds and cawing crows. Cor watches him go for a moment, as he then lands with another explosive show about half a mile further back. The end result is a crater and no survivors. Based on intel he swiped from an outpost half a month ago, the Nilfs are convinced Lucis has built a canon that allows the King to fire concentrated magic rounds with destructive precision.
Cor supposes that’s better than them figuring out the truth and putting a face and a name to his husband and his ludicrous habit to bring in the heat, as he likes to say, everywhere he goes. Outside of this – Regis’ orders, which wrap around Cor’s throat like a leash and which Nyx knows better than to rip off, lest he breaks his neck in the process – they live a fairly quiet life. Small house in the outskirts of Insomnia. Terrible, recurrent correspondence with Nyx’s family in Galahd. Hanging out with all of Cor’s friends, who are all assholes like him.
Quiet and peaceful and utterly boring.
Ah well.
Cor leaps down into the rocky path and starts running at a fast clip. No magic, no fancy Nilf drugs to make it easier or faster. Just good old fashioned muscle power. It’s carried him this far, after all.
And again, the point of the vanguard is not to crush the opposition.
“Cor Leonis,” comes the acknowledgement, before Safay Roth opens fire at him, four miles away from the Caem outskirts where Regis is waiting. “Shall we test how truly Immortal your King’s magic makes you?”
Cor grins at him, as the smell of petrichor hits his nose.
Above them, the Storm congeals.
“Sure,” Cor says, grip tight on the handle of his sword. “If you think you’ve got what it takes.”
The point of the vanguard is to stall until the main force arrives.
Safay Roth is dead before Cor finishes unsheathing his sword.
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