via
https://ift.tt/2K2tTgOrayearthdudette:
rayearthdudette:
The muses tied me down and threatened a beating so am writing this instead of working on Not Stupid.
Titus/Nyx A/B/O thing I’ve been flirting with for the past month or so that came about when thinking of having the Galahdians adopt Titus en masse after such and such detail detail I haven’t thoroughly decided on yet. Also the Ulrics are blue mage shifters. That is a very important detail.
“Shit. Glaives! Code Blue!”
Libertus growls at the command shouted over their earpieces, but disengages with the group of MTs he’s fighting and drawing back. Like everyone else on the field is.
Over the din of gunfire Libertus hears Nyx start cackling wildly.
What everyone, who isn’t Galahdian, doesn’t know, is that Code Blue stands for ‘We’re FUCKED! We’re Fucking FUCKED! Everyone Fall Back! Time To Send In The Ulric!’
It was supposed to be a routine escort for the King and his Shield to a minor noble house beyond the Wall. But nothing ever works out that simply. Not for them.. damn it all.
They were ambushed by a distressingly large faction of MTs and daemons enroute. The Crownsguard did their duty and surrounded the King, while the Kingsglaive engaged what felt like a tidal wave of enemies.
It wasn’t pretty.
A Glaive Libertus only knows as ‘Mia from Duscae’ falters as she watches the telltale blue ribbon of Lieutenant Ulric head deeper into the fray. She only knows that Code Blue is supposed to mean ‘We’re Fucked! Disengage and Regroup!’
Before she can say anything, Libertus grabs her arm and hauls her behind him, running like they’ve caught the eye of a Zu in need of a tasty morsel. He really, really doesn’t want to be in range of Nyx’s lightening when he shifts. Once. Just once. And never again.
They just barely reach the line of defense the Captain had set when the almighty explosion of lightening crashes over the battlefield behind them.
And Nyx roars his fury.
There is a reason Galahdians call the Ulrics ‘Ramuh’s Chosen Protectors.’
There is a reason why they say to ‘never anger an Ulric.’
And that reason is currently ripping through MTs and daemons alike like wet tissue paper.
They all watch in terrified awe as a massive white coeurl just obliterates everything around it.
Then the Captain just laughs, “Well. He hasn’t shifted in a while. I suppose he needed to let off some steam.”
Of course the asshole looks like a lovesick moron when he says it. The crazy bastard is mated to the other crazy bastard. That can shift into a coeurl. A coeurl that can eat someone in one bite. And rain down lightening like the Old Man Himself.
‘Ramuh strike me down, save me from the insanity that are my two best friends,’ Libertus thinks with an eyeroll.
The King just gapes at the destruction, well and truly gobsmacked.
The Lord Shield, however, turns on Captain Drautos, “You knew your subordinate could do that?!”
Every Galahdian in hearing range just gives the noble a ‘whatthefuck’ face. Of course Captain Drautos would know Ulric could shift. Everyone knows the two are mates. They’re the romance of the freaking century! The Captain has Nyx listed down as his significant other in his Astral damned file! Along with each of their kits as dependents! Did the Lucians not bother to read the damn thing?!
“Clarus, did you even read my damned file?”
*comes home after work* *checks tumblr*
holy shit. uh. wow.
Did not expect that.
um.. have more??
“Drautos, what on Titan’s green earth does your file have to do with anything?!” Lord Amicitia hollers. “I was asking you how you knew that Ulric-that Ulric is that!” he jabs a finger at the coeurl gnawing enthusiastically on the crushed metal of what was a MA-Veles.
Titus cocks an eyebrow at the flustered man, “My file has everything to do with this.”
Amicitia sputters and throws his hands into the air.
“That answered none of my questions!”
“Should’ve read my file then,” comes the flat reply.
Before the Royal Shield can commit the grave mistake of strangling Captain Drautos in front of his own soldiers, King Regis finally pushes through his frozen surprise.
“Drautos. Explain.” After a pause, “Please?”
Titus gives a world weary sigh and tips his head back, “..Fine.”
However, Ulric decides at that moment that he’s done playing, and bounds across the plain towards the convoy, like he’s a kitten and not a fully grown catbeast that towers over even behemoths.
The Crownsguard shift nervously, hands gripping weapons tighter.
Ignoring the justified skittishness of basically everyone, Titus steps forward to meet Ulric, who at the last moment skids to a stop and rolls over onto his back with a chirp.
Titus grins, then chuffs back in response, burying his hands into the fur of Ulric’s chest, petting him.
Stunned silence descends over the gathered soldiers as the usually stoic Captain coos at the vigorously purring mountain of a coeurl. That happens to also be a fellow Kingsglaive. Somehow.
There are a few squeaks and aborted movements when Ulric’s whiskers flick playfully just centimeters from the Captain’s feet, arcs of electricity crackling across the ground.
Libertus groans, “This is why we call you the Silver Coeurl. No one is batshit insane enough to pet a shifted Ulric after they’ve been in battle. Except, apparently, you!”
“I thought that was something Nana had simply decided to call me after I married into the Ulric clan,” Titus laughs and tweaks the closest whisker, uncaring of the gasps of horror behind him or the lightening that twists up his arm.
Lord Amicitia stutters out an astounded, “…Married?!”
Titus smirks at him, “With four kits.”
Hilarious, enticing, and just plain fun to read! Although now I have the most burning curiosity about both the Ulric-Drautos kits and the fallout of this conversation - although may I say that the mental image of a Coeurl!Nyx acting like a playful kitten is just. Adorable?
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