hugtopia_logs | It's just too hard I don't want to leave here without you

Entry tags:

It's just too hard I don't want to leave here without you

♥ Who: Cor, Regis, and Will
♥ Where: The Lucian household
♥ When: Late August
♥ What: Will has ushered both of these workaholics home to rest at various points. Unfortunately PTSD exists.
♥ Rating: gonna say R for nightmares, references to violence and death, etc

[He'd returned from Diacht's temple worn and weary and surprised to find the house quiet already. It was late, certainly, but that usually meant that he came in at the tail end of dinner to find Ignis and Regis talking quietly, maybe dishes being done, or maybe His Majesty curled up in the living room reading. But tonight it is empty and quiet, doors shut. Perhaps Ignis is out with Prompto? But Regis should be back by now, whatever he was doing.

It's enough to already have Cor on edge, unease bringing him back to alertness no matter how tired he'd been a moment before. Unease that grows when he finds a round ball of vibrant green feathers resting on the armchair Regis so often occupied. He stills, watching the bird carefully until she finally blinks up at him. As much as he knows that she belongs to Will the idea of the house being this quiet with that bundle of vibrant energy in it only puts him more ill at ease.

It's easy enough to follow the bird to Regis' door, opening it when she insists, uncertainty easing when he sees Will and Regis curled up together in His Majesty's bed. It would have been easy to leave it at that, paranoia telling him something was wrong but visual evidence that they were okay a logical way to refute it. But Deja takes a moment to assure him. Regis is recovering. See, everything will be fine.

Recovering from what, is the question. And why didn't His Majesty contact him if he was in trouble. If there was something for him to be recovering from then surely Cor should have been made aware of that. If Regis had been in trouble he'd have told him, of course, but... His Majesty might not consider certain things a threat right now, too young, too naive.

Cor doesn't really remember shutting the door or stepping away, his mind is cycling too quickly from one potentially dangerous situation to another, over and over again. He could have been injured with only these weak low quality potions to assist him. Besithia could have made a move against him, the scientist's twisted ambitions would lend all too easily to attempting to remove the Lucian Crown from the equation. Especially when Regis hasn't really taken the threat the young man poses seriously.

It's a vicious endless spiral of thoughts, one scenario to another, his strategic mind able to pick out any number of scenarios that, objectively, would benefit the enemy. Ways they might seek to harm the Crown. No matter how many times he hears it, no matter how often or from how many people the idea that there is truly no threat here, nothing to worry about, no moves to be made against His Majesty, he cannot believe it.

The path he paces takes him past Regis' room to his own, back to the entrance to the kitchen and around again. In his desperation to distract from 'what if's and 'could be's he does the dishes, cleans the kitchen, the bathroom, tidies the living room. Sets to pacing again. It isn't until he realizes there's a soft snuffling from behind the door, one ruddy paw poking under the door that he realizes his anxiety must be disturbing the animals.

A distant murmured assurance for Arche and then he takes his books and slips away into his room. As much as he tries to focus on the words there's no use. His body aches with unused tension, wound tighter and tighter as the night wears on. Somewhere, despite his certainty that he will be unable to rest, he finally drifts off. Book splayed across his chest, still fully dressed, Kotetsu resting against the nightstand beside him in easy reach.

It's all too easy for his mind to take the hours of scenarios he's built and combine them into something horrific. The sky over Havenwell darkened with Scourge. Verstael, younger than he has any right to be, directing armies of MTs within the city, new friends falling to the plague and rising in strange new shapes of daemons. But most of all he cannot find Regis. He's nowhere that makes sense and the headset he has will pick up snippets of conversations that aren't with him. Threats and whispers of betrayal and Regis' naive laughter even as he's lead into a trap and if Cor could only find him he surely could protect him, save him from falling victim to the same fate again and again.

The panic mounts even as he sleeps on, breathing hard, heart racing.

There's nothing he can do, there's not enough time. A flicker of suspicion in the voice in his ear and he can hear clearly now, the rasp of metal on stone, the drip of blood being spilled, Regis' voice cut short in a stuttered cry.

He wakes with a shout, Regis' name on his lips, kikuichimonji appearing in his hand before he's even realized he's standing, blade glinting in the moonlight that spills in the window that makes it all too clear he's shaking. He can't catch his breath and for a moment he's terrified he won't be able to keep his feet. His door bangs off the wall as he staggers out of the room, blade still naked in his hand, desperate to assure himself that Regis is okay, he's here, with him. He's not going to die again. He's fine. He's in the next room. It's okay.

But he doesn't open the door. He just leans against the door to His Majesty's room, desperately trying to get himself under control. To breathe, to be still, to remind himself that dreams do not affect reality. He is on the other side of that door, sleeping soundly. Perfectly fine.

It's fine.

It has to be.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's not a restful night for anyone, is it? Will had resisted the urge to go out after Cor--in this state, the man had surely been in no mood to talk, even if it might help him feel better. Even his good intentions would have probably made things worse, with Cor knowing that left Regis alone--and he certainly wouldn't have wanted to see Regis up, not while he was recovering. As stressful as it was, all they really could do was let Cor wear himself out and hope his anxiety ran its course.

He does his best to block it all out, as they settle down to sleep..... But once he does fall asleep, he simply can't be as vigilant. His own dream isn't nearly so coherent (or as horrific) as Cor's, as the emotions filter through--mostly wandering lost in the darkness, straining to make out silhouettes he can't quite see enough of to make any sense out of, as the shapeless dread builds higher and higher. Even unconscious, he struggles to make sense of what's being imposed on him.

He's not sure if it's the rush of stomach-twisting horror that rouses him, or Cor's muffled cry. He wakes with a soft gasp either way, trembling a little from adrenaline and just how hard his heart is pounding, groggy and bewildered as he rubs his forehead. What the hell is going on out there at this hour? He doesn't feel pain, so there can't be any actual fight. And he's pretty sure Cor wouldn't be this afraid, if he were actually fighting someone. He's good at fighting. It's what he does.

So that must mean the enemy isn't one he can just stab and be done with it. He should..... get up and go check on him. If that won't just upset him more. Ugh, but just leaving him alone after whatever that was would just be cruel, right? This time, he's pretty sure getting up to interrupt is justified.

He may not be much good in a real fight, but when it comes to facing down inner demons--well, that's where he should shine, right? He's the only one who can directly lay a finger on them.]

[Of all of them, the night is perhaps the most restful for Regis, but only in the most technical of ways. He is at the level of exhaustion where rest is necessary, but will not exactly be 'restful' for awhile, not with how much debt he's pushed his body into. Honestly, he probably would have just fallen face first onto the bed if Will had not managed to talk at him about his abilities long enough for Regis to drag on something resembling pajamas. After that, though, he hit the bed and was out like a light. He knew nothing of Cor's worried check in or pacing; his own mind so deep in sleep that the dreams that come--failed attempts to help his people, his family, his friends--are lost within his unconscious. All his conscious mind knows is the sinking feeling that is the body dragging the mind deeper and deeper until it finally is forced to stop working. Waking Regis on a good day is a challenge, but like this it is nearly impossible.

Nearly.

Some things will always reach him no matter how far under he is and the yank that is someone panic-drawing a weapon from the Armiger is one of those things. Considering only one person has such a tie to him here, it's no wonder that Cor's name is on his lips when he jolts from the deepest of sleeps to almost full awareness. Somewhere during that sudden waking he registers the sound of the slamming door and the soft gasp that is Will waking as abruptly as he has, but those things register only in the most methodological of ways as Regis' mind has already shifted into battle mode. Will can probably feel the way his mind snaps into clarity as if a switch has been flipped. He will pay for it later, but for now the only thing he is worried about is making sure Cor is safe. For the moment, the Sword of the Father remains in the Armiger, but the air around Regis becomes charged and heavy with magic as he frees himself from the blankets and begins to rise from the bed. There is no hesitation in his actions. If Cor needs help, then he will provide it.

It's just too bad magic doesn't work as well on inner demons as it does their more physical cousins.]

[Cor is far more used to such an action meaning nothing to Regis. So very many people had access to his power that it would mean he hardly ever slept if he was startled awake every time a Glaive drew on the magic. The Armiger itself was more limited certainly but Regis' connection to that power had weakened so much in the years before his death that it would have been even more difficult to sense.

Besides that Cor is far too occupied with trying to force his breathing to slow, one hand clutching tightly to Kikuichimonji's hilt while the other makes a tight fist, desperately trying to stop himself from shaking. He rests his forearm against the door, leans his forehead against it, strains to listen past the rush of his own blood for the sound of Regis' breathing.

He cannot lose his King again, it would destroy him. His breath comes out shakily and he almost cries out when one delicate paw slinks under the door to try to bat at his foot, the tiniest of vulpine whimpers from Arche. He shushes her softly, under his breath, even that shaking slightly. But he'd hate for her to wake them. ]

[His heart is going to explode at this rate. Arceus above, he feels like he just put in an espresso IV drip, the way Regis snaps awake. The way the air tingles with magic makes his hair want to stand on end, charged like his Electabuzz preparing for an especially powerful blast of lightning--between all of it, it feels hard even to breathe, through such tension and fear.

This has to stop before it spirals out of control. Will reaches out to put a hand on Regis' arm, and pray he doesn't startle the man enough to get electrocuted from pure reflex.]

It's okay. He's--he just had a nightmare. Nobody is hurt. Alright?

[Will raises his voice a little to make sure it can be heard through the door. If Arche is crying at the gap, he must be just outside.]

Everyone is fine. Could you come in here for a minute, Cor?

[Fortunately, 'battle ready' for Regis doesn't mean 'hair-trigger.' He's far too controlled when it comes to his powers for that. At the touch, he turns to face Will, nodding as he listens to the young man's words. It's not enough to make all of the magical tension in the air fade, but it's enough to bring it down substantially, a hint of a possible storm instead of an imminent lightning strike.

Nightmares he understands, even if they are not as easy to fight as intruders. He's no where near Cor's age, and he already has his own share of them. How many more terrible thoughts and visions must haunt his old friend's sleeping hours? Regis has no way of knowing, of course. Not with how close to his chest Cor keeps all his own troubles.

He finishes getting to his feet and makes his way to the door, black silk pajamas rustling softly as he goes. Knowing Cor, he may try to leave now that Will basically called him out. Best to put a stop to that.

After pausing for just a moment to give Arche a reassuring pat on the head, Regis coaxes the worried animal back away from the door and then slowly starts to open it, not wanting to startle the already upset man behind it.]

[He's so desperate to hear reassurances of Regis' well being that the moment Will speaks he's taking half a step back, just as startled by voices as he was by Arche. They're awake. Or at least Will is. What had he done? was it just how hard he'd opened his door?

He'd still been so asleep that he doesn't even realize he'd called out Regis' name.

Then Will calls out to him and there's another spike of panic. Fear and denial and his stomach rolls unpleasantly as he turns to march back to his room and leave them so that he doesn't interrupt His Majesty's rest any further. Two steps and he's forcing himself to dismiss kikuichimonji back to the Armiger where it belongs. A third as the door opens and he stops dead. Two more steps and he can slip into his own room, put that careful distance between them that will leave his walls in tact. Leave him trembling and alone, walled into a mental and emotional prison of his own making, decades of reinforcements to hold against...

Against betrayal, of himself, of His King. To hold himself apart lest it be he that betrays His Majesty's trust with his foolish traitorous heart.

But he can't make himself take that last step. He doesn't turn to face Regis, too uncertain of what he might do, panicked and anxious as he is, but also unwilling to walk away from His King.]

[The way the air crackles against his skin with magical power gentles, but the spike of panic from outside crushes his chest and throat in an icy grip. For a moment he's rooted to the spot, muscles locked in protest, every instinct screaming to retreat and withdraw into himself. He can't honestly be sure how much of it is himself, and how much of it is Cor or Regis, at this point. Where exactly does he end, and someone else begin?

Arche reluctantly backs away from the door, at least long enough to allow it to open--once it is, though, she's squeezing past to pad out into the hallway. Will is slower to stand, and he doesn't move far--just enough to peer out the doorway around Regis.]

Cor..... just let him make sure you're okay. Please?

[He doesn't tell Regis that he shouldn't be up in his condition. Regis wouldn't have any of that right now, Will knows that without even having to ask, and it would probably just disturb Cor further. He doesn't tell Cor to come see for himself that Regis is fine, because the man already is obviously already wanting to just..... escape the entire situation, refuse to acknowledge the fear. Drawing more attention to it won't be good for anyone.

Cor does need to see that Regis is okay, though--whether he wants to admit it or not. And Regis certainly needs to be reassured that Cor isn't hurt, either. Maybe if they just..... get a good look at each other, everyone can calm down? It may be easier said than done, but he doesn't want to leave either of them like this.]

[Will is completely correct when he makes his request. The only way that Regis will be able to relax again is if he sees Cor is okay with his own two eyes, though feeling his friend return his weapon to the Armiger does help. Were there even the hint of an intruder, Cor would never have let that weapon leave his hand. Seeing Cor so close to his own door--doing exactly what Regis expected him to--allows that relaxation to finally fully set in. By the time he is taking his first near silent steps on bare feet down the hall, all the magic in the air has faded. The sharp battle-clarity in his mind has begun to fade as well. Exhaustion will creep back in shortly, but for now it remains away.

Once he makes it to Cor's side, he reaches out to take his friend's hand, giving is a gentle squeeze and then an equally gentle tug so that he will turn toward him. There is a soft, concerned look in his eyes and hints of what could almost be called a plea in his quiet request.]

Come back with me.

[His mind is still spinning through one impossible scenario after another so it is impossible to say what, precisely, he might have been expecting to happen. Whatever it is it's not for his King to take his hand, so gentle. Careful and that touch alone is enough to make a lump form in his throat, thick and near impossible to breathe around.

He's fine, of course he's fine.

Regis tugs and Cor moves, pliant in his hands even if he cannot bring himself to look at the other man.]

I didn- [A moment where he has to let out a breath, careful and controlled, stuttering ever so slightly as he fights to swallow around the knot in his chest. He is a grown man, a soldier, he will not cry over foolish dreams.]

Didn't mean to wake you.

[Ah, there they are. Cor is obedient as always, just as Will had thought he would be. How could he refuse a request from his king, especially when Regis is so obviously shaken?

[He doesn't need to be psychic to be able to tell that those two need some time together, to settle each others' nerves and prove that they're both safe, that all is well. Some time together, and probably alone, if this is so deep and personal. Will snaps his fingers and beckons; Arete and Deja get up to follow him out of the bedroom. Arche, meanwhile, is already out the door, whimpering and pressing against Cor's ankles.

Cor is sure to take care of Regis and make sure he gets enough rest. Maybe he should get some coffee? Or maybe it's about time to just head home.....]

Edited 2019-09-12 03:17 (UTC)

Of course you didn't, but nightmares rarely care what we want, do they?

[As much as Regis is glad that Cor isn't fighting him on this, he can't help but cringe internally at how very placid his friend is being. It far too easily brings to mind images of him as a much younger man, a boy really, following his father around with the emptiest of eyes, nothing more than a tool to be wielded when needed.

He hates those images so much.]

Besides, you have spent far too many years dealing with these kinds of pains alone. There is no need to do so here.

[Regis turns to Will for a little support and is surprised when he notices the young man seems to be making ready to leave, the room if not the house.]

Will? It's far too late for you to wander. Please, go back to sleep.

[He turns back to Cor.]

Perhaps we can go to your room instead so Will may rest?

[He wants to argue, to make light of his own fears, but Regis takes his hand and and the iron grip of panic on his chest loosens. Cor can only nod in agreement with his King's words, acknowledging the wisdom though it doesn't stop him from feeling some shame. But it's small and quiet beneath the swell of relief. Regis is here, speaking sense and even fussing so he must be well enough. More than that he's here and fussing over Cor and however much the soldier wants to insist he doesn't need it the man basks in the attention, love driving him to take another step, hand settling more comfortably in Regis'.]

Reggie... [A murmur of half-hearted protest before Regis' attention shifts to Will and Cor's gaze snaps up to the younger man. Fear and worry spike again but it's hard for him to find the words at first. A moment of struggling silence and then he holds out his other hand to Will, shaking his head ever so slightly.]

Please? Wherever you want to stay just... not out into the Night.

[Don't leave, Will. Don't go out into the darkness. Natural thought it has to be his mind rebels at the very idea, worry and fear that the Dawn will never come and that daemons prowl broken streets comes to mind. It's illogical but it's all he's known for years now. He glances to Regis, silent but imploring his King nonetheless. Don't let him leave.]

[Go back to sleep. Of course he should do that. It's some Dialga-forsaken hour in the morning, a long way from dawn. Going outside now would be far too dark to navigate easily. Any sensible person would be laying back down, now that the situation is under control.

Even so, he's skeptical of how easily sleep will come back to him. His muscles feel tight, his heart is still thrumming from adrenaline, and his head is throbbing from the sudden, violent intensity he's been intruded upon with. It's a familiar kind of exhausting, all by itself.

[For a moment, Cor's fears are so vivid and close he almost feels as though he could touch them. Almost-formed images flash behind his eyes, too incoherent to take shape; Will cocks his head, as though straining to listen to something just on the edge of his hearing. He catches himself a moment later, offering them both a warm, reassuring smile and reaching out to give Cor's hand a reassuring squeeze. If venturing out is really such a terrifying prospect.....]

He's right, you know. But if you boys will get some rest, then I'll stick around. How about that~?

[Have a playful little shooing motion. Go to bed, both of you. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, and he won't leave into the night and upset them. They've earned some quality sleep.]

[In the moment after Cor calls him 'Reggie,' Regis all but radiates pleasure and fondness even though the only visible reaction is his eyes widening in surprise. Cor so rarely calls him by his nickname that he treasures every time it happens. In fact, if Cor's attention had not shifted so quickly to Will, Regis very well might have let his own nickname for Cor--one that he hasn't spoken aloud yet, but used many times in his mind--slip out. He is not sure how the Cor he knows back home would react to being called 'my lion' but he doesn't think the one here would mind it so much.]

I'm not certain rest is coming to any of us all that soon, but at the very least we can settle back down and attempt it. I thank you for understanding that the night causes a special kind of fear for those of us from Eos.

[Regis turns to take a step back toward Cor's room, never letting go of the hand in his, but then pauses to look back at Will with concern.]

Are you all right?

[Now that Cor has settled and Regis knows his friend is not fighting for his life somewhere, how terrible Will looked when they first woke up flashes vividly into his mind.]

[Cor doesn't have that knowledge of what woke Will but he knows how distant the younger man looks for a moment there before he takes his hand and if Regis wasn't voicing concern already he would be doing just that.

He glances down at Arche, shrugging helplessly. Both hands now occupied with another's hand it's impossible for him to thank her for her concern with some affection of her own.]

Shouldn't you be fussing over your dad?

[A gentle nudge so he can move without tripping on her and then he's offering Regis a slight shake of his head. No. Not his room. Slowly he coaxes them back towards the door to Regis' room, one hand slipping from Will's hand to settle at the small of his back, guiding him along while keeping Regis close behind him.]

No on is going out until the sun comes up at least... Whether we manage sleep or not.

[He's not expecting much in the way of sleep regardless but he doesn't want to let either of them out of his sight.]

Never better, don't you worry. I'm sure I'd be afraid of the dark too, if I were from Eos.

[It's no use; he can't pick up on details, not without going looking for them. And even if he did want to pry, they'd absolutely notice him being so distracted. It's just not worth knowing the specific shape of whatever nighttime demons haunt Cor right now.

He doesn't need to know what they look like to chase them away, does he? He wishes his Hypno was here, but he supposes he's not a terrible second choice. So Will lets Cor guide him with no further protest.

Arche chases after the little group--but if they happen to watch the other two Pokémon, it looks like they're more interested in stealing Cor's bed while he's not using it. Better than the floor, right?]

So pessimistic..... If I'm going to stick around, then I'm going to make sure you get some sleep, too. No ifs needed~

[Being that he is at the back of the group, Regis can't help but catch the little creatures in the act of room thief. Not that he tries to stop them or even give them away to the others. Instead, he chuckles softly and follows Cor and Will toward the other room. If all three of them are going to stay together, then it is best to go back to his room. There are two beds in there and three adults will fit better in two beds than one.

Well...usually. During the road trip, they had gotten pretty creative a time or two about who slept where. Of course, Cor wasn't as broad back then. Not as tall either.

When Will speaks, Regis pulls his thoughts from the past and back to him.]

If you make sure we sleep, who is going to make sure you sleep?

[Cor's also not as spry as he was back then. He does his best to keep himself in good condition but his back and his knees are not exactly what they were thirty odd years ago. He's also not entirely sure he's prepared to let go of Regis just yet.

Once the three of them are in the room he pokes his head out to look after Arete and Deja, frowning when he realizes they've scampered off. Leaving the door ajar so they can get back in would make the most sense but the idea of not having a solid, locked, door between them and the night raises more anxieties than knowing the girls could get back in would soothe.]

They'll be alright?

[He trusts Will to know his pokemon well enough to be assured that they'll be okay in the next room.

As soon as he has that assurance though he's going to have to release both of them at least long enough to pull the blankets out of the way so he can shove both beds together in the middle of the room. Sure someone will have to sleep on the crack but that's better than having to let go of either of them for more than a moment or two.]

I'll make sure I sleep. And the girls will be fine, they know how to knock. You just might need a lint roller, that's all.

[Arete isn't as bad of a shedder as Arche is, and she's big enough that she doesn't often get to cuddle up in bed, but it's still liable to be a pain. Such fussing, though..... Maybe it really is better that he comes back with the boys.

Will waits until they're all crawling into bed and settling back in to get to work, slowly lowering his walls until--until there's quite simply nothing to contain him or how he feels, nothing to pretend that his heart is truly, fully separate from anyone else's. He doesn't focus on his heartbeat or breathing this time, the way he usually does when he meditates. He thinks back to a memory instead, trying to conjure it up in his mind's eye again, until he can remember and reflect those emotions as real and vivid as though he were living through it all right now.

Sinking into a futon mattress, luxuriously warm and comfortable after so many nights spent outside on the ground in a sleeping bag.

The peaceful security of his team cuddled up around and on top of him, his loved ones right there to share this moment with him.

The gentle tug of weariness--the good kind of tired, worn out and satisfied from a job well done, ready to fall asleep the moment he let his eyes close.

Not just contentment, but happiness--all is right with the world, and all is right with him. No worries or doubts, no regrets or self-recrimination, no frustration or brooding..... just the knowledge that he's exactly where he wants to be, doing exactly what he wants to do.]

[He is all ready to help move the beds, but Cor has things well in hand before he's even stepped fully into the room. Well, it's likely for the best. It gives him something physical to do and he's always needed that extra outlet to help settle his mind. Regis isn't sure if just moving the beds around will be enough though...

He's not sure until that wave of memory and emotion washes over them. Instinctively, he puts himself on guard, only to relax again just as quickly when he realizes what must be happening.

Will.

It's both overwhelming and a little worrying to be hit by that wave. Is it dangerous for the young man to leave himself so exposed? What kind of affect will such an outpouring have on him? So many questions, but they will wait until morning when they have all had time to rest. Regis settles against Cor's shoulder, reaching for one of his friend's hands while at the same time, letting himself settle into all that Will is sharing with them.

Perhaps it is because he thought of Cor being younger earlier, but as he is settling down a memory with a very similar feeling drifts into his mind and he can't help but gently push it toward Will in thanks for what he is doing for them...

The hotel was barely that. In fact, Cid had insisted in a voice that allowed for no argument that he was sleeping in the Regalia, thank you very much. It might just be a car, but its 'walls' weren't going to be swaying in the wind like the walls of the room were. Wesk had told them to let him go before claiming the one chair in the room and leaving Clarus, Regis and Cor to work out the rest of the sleeping arrangements between themselves.

It was a tight fit. Regis had been given no choice about being the one with his back to the wall, but with everyone finally settled, he wasn't going to complain. It meant that when Cor--only about 15 years old, but stubborn in his insistence that he be the second line of defense after Clarus who was somehow how managing not to fall off the edge of the bed--had finally given into sleep, he had ended up letting his head fall to rest against Regis' chest, one hand curled into his shirt.

It was hard then not to reach a hand up to brush back the young man's hair, but Regis had resisted knowing it would wake him. That was something he couldn't allow. Not when Cor pushed himself so hard and so very rarely let himself rest. No, instead Regis had just focused on the feelings of warmth and safety being with his friends made him feel until he finally fell asleep too.]

[Cor at least has seen a bit of what Will can do. The times Will has joined in for training bouts it has mostly been with the girls but... Well Cor isn't familiar with the rules of pokemon battles and if there was a real fight going down the best way to cause chaos is to take out the leader of the enemy forces. Will is, by no means, off limits in their tussles.

It means he knows just how much more there is to him than he lets on at first blush and the gentle push of emotions he knows damn well aren't his makes him bristle at first. The idea of someone being able to mess with his head should immediately put him on edge, and it had at first. But this is Will. Sweet and bright and caring and, after a conscious effort to relax into what their psychic is doing, Cor eases himself into it as well.

He does at least pause long enough to finally peel off his jacket and boots, something he hadn't bothered to do earlier. Regis settles against his shoulder and Cor leans into Will.

Oddly enough the memories he has that are closest to this feeling of contentment and sleep hazed happiness all involve him looking in on others.

Finding Regis, years older, slumped over the foot of Noctis' bed while the Prince was sick with a cold, something he undoubtedly caught from Gladio.

Clarus, grey and all that glorious hair shaved off, hanging off a bright pink princess bed, dozing off while Iris merrily used her dad's back to play dolls on since he clearly wasn't going to make her go to bed when he was this exhausted.

Noctis in his late teens, passed out on his couch in a high rise apartment over looking the city, arm dangling off the couch to rest on Prompto's chest. snacks and take out boxes and game controllers all over the damn place. But they'd been so content he hadn't had the heart to wake them for training that they were both late for. Instead he just pulls out his phone and settles in an armchair to kick both of their asses on the King's Knight leader board.

The last one actually gets a small little huff of amusement as the tension bleeds out of him, the restless energy left over from that panic attack slipping away. as he's drifting though, he reaches out a hand to pat whatever happens to be under his hand, whether that is bed, his thigh, Will's hip... a clear invitation for Arche.]

[Going after trainers themselves is by no means legal in any sense of the word, League regulations or otherwise. At best, you'd have your trainer's license suspended, or more likely revoked entirely. At worst, you would probably be arrested and tried for assault and worse. And yet, this isn't a League battle, and Cor is no trainer; of course he doesn't know any better, And to be honest, he'd gone after trainers directly himself, back in the day.....

It's a sound tactical strategy, even if he's not supposed to be involved in the fight directly. He doesn't begrudge the hits he takes, even if they leave him too dazed to issue commands as often as not. He could return fire himself, if he wanted to--could easily make Cor's fears come true. It isn't as though he's never taken advantage of people that way..... But that's not who he is anymore. Or--at least, it's not who he wants to be anymore. How can you ever tell if you've changed, really?

Right now..... all he wants is to wash away the panic and dread with something warmer and softer, to help them feel safe in their own minds again. He'd expected the offering to call up echoes of their own, to help them think back to more peaceful, happier times..... He hadn't really expected to actually catch clear glimpses of those memories, though. He lets Regis take his hand without protest, though the distinctly distant look to him is back, barely even reacting as Arche obediently jumps up onto his hip to answer Cor's summons.

He doesn't intent to let himself sleep until he ensures that the other two have drifted off, but he's definitely smiling at just how adorable these scenes are as they play out. Cor, Regis, your friends and family are absolutely precious, and he's going to end up fond of them whether he's met these people or not.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's just too hard I don't want to leave here without you

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject