#( let her stay always in my mind & my heart. / aulea. )

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

@writtenxbeginnings

[secret-engima]

Ardyn doesn't know his own strength and accidentally helps Niflheim topple Insomnia like, eleven years too early. So he scoops his tiny would-be killer out of the rubble and smuggles him to the Nox Fleurets, presumably to stash for a few years--only, Tenebrae soon falls too, with the rumors of them harboring Prince Noctis (who the Emperor rather badly wants dead, as the Crystal still. won't. accept. him). So now Ardyn has to figure out how to semi-raise Noct into something NOT hopelessly (1/2)

alyss-spazz-penedo

said:

(2/2) civilian and strong enough to fight the gods and fulfill the Prophecy, even as he definitely still hates the child and would quite enjoy seeing him suffer. On Noct's part, he totally knows who Ardyn is and what he wants (thanks Luna), and sure he's glad he wasn't cut down in the raid on the mansion but he's SO unhappy to see Ardyn again.

Me: Oh my word do you even KNOW how angsty I could make this ask? DO YOU EVEN KNOW????? Of course you do you just want to see me suffer.

But just- this could get SO DARK. So abusive. So brutal and even though I would not go full dark there’s still so much ANGST no matter how you look at it.

The worst part is I actually have a bby AU very much like this. Does anyone remember the slightly unstable Imperial!Noctis that showed up in my All Nocti Dissidia AU blurb?

This is basically him.

A Noctis who grew up having lost his home TWICE. First Insomnia, then Tenebrae, both to the same Empire and the same Accursed, and then the Accursed had to RAISE HIM and it was- it was hard. It was brutal. Ardyn raised this Noctis to be a weapon strong enough to destroy him, a politician cunning enough to overthrow him, a scientist smart enough to outthink even Besithia. His only light was Luna, who Ardyn allowed to visit to keep Noctis on his “destined path”, and partially Aranea, who drifted into the young “Chancellor’s Nephew” orbit out of happenstance and then later pity, because she could see the brittle sharp glint in the boy’s eyes and knew an abusive situation when she saw it, and if him hiding in her airship sometimes gave him respite, if that was all she could do to help because Ardyn wasn’t someone she could arrest-.

She tried. At least. She did what she could.

And one of the most angsty bits of this is-

In some warped way, Ardyn and Noctis grow to love each other. Because there are days when Ardyn’s sickness loosens it’s hold enough to let bits of the Healer King and Big Brother shine through, and his touch becomes gentle and his teasing words lose their poison, his hands card through Noctis’s hair and do not scrape at his scalp, and when he speaks of Prophecy there is longing there for rest and repentance rather than poison and mockery for the fate that awaits them both. This is the Ardyn that peaks through when Noctis falls sick after climbing up a mountain in a snowstorm for training, or when he’s too sore to move after a night battling in Ardyn’s daemon training arena learning how to forcibly purify the creatures even though purification is Luna’s magic and not his. This is the Ardyn that holds Noctis close sometimes and sobs apologies into his limp, shivering nephew’s hair because he is aware, at least for a moment, that this child-teen-young-adult is not Somnus and does not deserve to be molded into a weapon of Astral and Accursed alike. This is the Ardyn that Noctis calls Uncle and bitterly, angrily loves in his heart, the one he looks for in the Chancellor’s every morning and quietly mourns when he cannot find him.

The Accursed trains and molds a weapon, a politician, a cunning, sharp mind that can rival his own and someday kill him.

But it’s the little bits and pieces of Ardyn that raise Noctis, a king and a nephew and a son that holds on to the morals Luna gives him with an iron grip, that makes sure Noctis is not completely drowned beneath the Chosen King.

And in the end it is the work of both sides, Accursed and Healer King, that raise up the one who saves the world. It is the Accursed who forged the weapon that hunts down the weapons of the Lucii and steals the lost ring, who steps into the Crystal without flinching and comes out ready to kill.

But it is Noctis who spent years stealing away children from Besithia’s labs so they would not become MT units, who fosters the rebellion and organizes the factions of Lucian, Galahdian, Altissian, Tenebraen, and Niflheim rebels so that they become a more cohesive whole that the Empire cannot isolate and crush beneath it’s boot. It is Noctis who sometimes sneaks into Luna’s rooms at night so that they can just- hold each other, so that Luna can run gentle fingers down his back and remind him what it means to be human, not a weapon, not the King of Light, who shows him the innocent people he must protect and proves to him that they are worth fighting for and keeping safe when it would be so much EASIER to just wage his war and not care about the collateral.

It is Noctis who teaches his stolen not-MT units to be people and to stay safe, Noctis who clings to the sunshine soul of the one who names himself Prompto and follows on his heels into the maw of Ardyn’s brutal training without flinching. It is Noctis who finds Lucis’s Marshal Immortal deep in one of Niflheim’s dungeons and arranges for the rebellion (his rebellion) to break him out. Who gives the Galahdians his magic in the dead of night with a ghoulish mask and cloak to keep his identity hidden from them. It is Noctis who finds the Last Amicitia leading a rebel cell and offers him hope and gains in accidental exchange a protector and Shield. It is Noctis that is tracked down by a young man with glasses and green eyes and loyalty in every fiber, a man who says “I know you are our secret leader, let me help you” and Noctis who is still human enough to be grateful and say yes.

It is Noctis who orchestrated the Empire’s downfall long before he stepped into Crystal, and who’s forces have hemmed and imprisoned the Accursed in the ruins of Noctis’s first home during the ten years he is gone.

It is Noctis, not the Chosen King (weapon, war beast, broken tool) who gently pillows Ardyn’s head in his lap and pets red-violet hair and sings ancient, long-forgotten lullabies as the Accursed (his tormentor, his Uncle, his worst nightmare, his parent) breathes his last.

It is Noctis who ascends the throne of an Empire and reclaims the Crystal (with Luna and a Retinue at his side to keep him from becoming as heartless as the Chosen King that was forged from him) rather than rolling over and dying, because Ardyn gave him training and honed his mind and gave him access to all of Besithia’s knowledge, did he really think Noctis wouldn’t look for a way to weaken and end the Scourge without sacrificing himself for it?

(He thinks perhaps that Ardyn didn’t, that his Uncle-captor-Chancellor-father always intended him to find a loophole in the Prophecy so that he would survive, that even when buried underneath the Accursed, the Healer King still fought to protect the last of his family)

(Then he clutches the cane he has to lean on ever since that final battle and goes to find some wine, because he does not want to think those thoughts. They hurt even worse than his limp and his joints and the lifetime of scars he hides under elaborate black tattoos.)

There.

THERE.

ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

Or do you want me to ramble about how Cor feels the day he finally meets the mysterious head of the rebellion, who is now the emperor and how he’s suspicious and willing to keep fighting if this man turns out to be corrupt, because he’s heard this is the Chancellor’s nephew, only to feel his heart stop when he sees the profile of the man leaning heavily on a cane and thinks for one second it’s Regis’s ghost before realizing this man is younger and clean-shaven and dressed in a way that shows off the elaborate, scar-hiding tattoos on his arms and shoulders. How he makes some noise in his throat and when their mysterious Chosen turns to look at him Cor finds himself looking into armiger blue eyes and Regis’s face if it had been softened by Aulea’s jawline and made borderline feral by a lifetime of intrigue and abuse thinly veiled as training.

And Cor whispers the name of his best friend’s long-dead son, and the new Emperor’s eyes sharpen as he says, “How do you know my real name? I never told anyone outside my Retinue.” And something in Cor twists with realization.

And there’s also the realizations of Ignis and Gladio years earlier, who don’t KNOW at first who Noctis really is to them until he trusts them enough to reveal his magic and they realize THIS IS THEIR PRINCE. This is their long lost charge who they thought was dead, but has instead been raised by the man who hates him most and yet loves him dearly by turns and all that entails.

And there’s also LUNA. Luna who doesn’t die, but who grows up watching the gentle, smiling boy she first met in Tenebrae get shaped and sharpened and molded into a Chosen King and a beast of war and a tool of destiny, who could so easily become a monster just like the Accursed in all but name, but who FIGHTS it every step of the way even as his light falls away and Luna becomes his only cornerstone for years. His only reminder that there is a life and a purpose outside the Accursed’s plans and the Prophecy that Luna grows to hate, because if it did not exist then the Accursed would have no interest in her friend.

Luna who cries with relief the day the not-MT named Prompto glues himself to Noctis’s side and refuses to leave, because there is an innocent, stubborn light to the boy’s eyes that gently draws Noctis out of the armor that is the Chosen King even when Luna is not there. Luna who rails at the Astrals (at Bahamut, who prevents Shiva and Ramuh from acting) because they can SEE what is happening, yet they will not step in to rescue him, because even now Ardyn is pushing Noctis toward his “destiny” and that is all that matters.

Luna who, years after all is said and done, after the Accursed is laid to final rest and Noctis slowly dissolves the Empire back into free and healthy kingdoms, still has to hold him when he shakes and still has to talk the icy, too-sharp glaze from his eyes when he forgets to be human rather than weapon. Who pushes golden magic into his body even though she knows some scars can never be healed, and who has to talk Noctis down with Ignis’s help from the heights of his utter, visceral horror the day she tells him she is pregnant and Noctis realizes he’s going to be a father, but that he doesn’t know how, because what role model for fatherhood has he ever had and remembered that wasn’t the very man who took his real father away and made him the fractured mess he is?

...

There I think I’m done being brutally angsty now.

Happy notes for an AU like this would be-

Noctis and Luna both live. Ignis does not go blind.

Noctis and Luna have like- five kids and Noctis adores them all once he gets over his visceral panic. He is the gentlest, kindest father. Luna and Ignis and Gladio have to do all the disciplining because Noctis will not raise a hand or voice to them ever, and he has never looked more peaceful then when he is napping with his children in the garden.

Prompto has like- several hundred brothers because Noctis stole bby MT’s whenever he could. Prompto is the unofficial “oldest” brother of them all (even though chronologically he isn't) since he has the ear of the king, and all the clones have fun making themselves unique via hair and accessories and tattoos and clothes and weird names.

Gladio and Aranea are snark buddies, and neither are entirely sure how they got married but they’re pretty sure it was Biggs’ and Wedge’s faults and that Ignis officiated (which isn’t too far off).

Cor gets to spoil all of Regis’s and Clarus’s grandkids like crazy.

Galahd gets rebuilt and gets to be it’s own country. Nyx Ulric and Crowe and all our other fav glaives live and aren’t traitors.

Titus Drautos was one of Noctis’s most loyal double-agents during the rebellion, and frankly he isn’t sure how his retirement still involves him braincelling his Galahdian idiots, but their islands are pretty and its far, far away from any and all Niflheim/Lucian politics so eh, he’ll take it. Now if Nyx would just STOP using him as a babysitting service for the adorable adopted bby Ulrics of his newly remade Clan, that would help his blood pressure so much.

[archonssun]

Lies Pt 2

WC: 1384

-----

“Papa!” you giggled, wrapping short arms around your father’s legs. His golden eyes turned to you, a smile on his lips as he ruffled your (h/c) hair.

“Hello, little sun,” he grinned. “How was your day?”

“Better now that you’re home.”

“Why, such a charmer you have turned out to be, little sun,” Ardyn chuckled, crouching down and picking you up. “Your mother must have passed on her charisma to you, (Y/n).”

Memories of you and your father were all that accompanied you in your time on Angelgard. Having been exiled to this demented prison by your uncle, Somnus, what felt like eons ago, boredom was quick to set in. You hadn’t been chained up like your father had been, but that was only because you had no special powers to aid you in escape.

You knew your father was being held here with you, but no matter how hard you tried, you could never find him. You just wanted to say good-bye, at least one more time before you die.

***

A loud, droning sound woke you, and you turned (e/c) eyes to the sky to see a … was that a ship? Whatever it was, it landed on the beach of Angelgard, soldiers spilling out like ants. From where you stood hidden behind an outcropping of rocks, one man caught your eyes. He was shorter than the soldiers, with platinum hair and an air of importance surrounding him. You couldn't hear what he was saying, but as he drew closer to your hiding spot the hairs on your arms stood on end. He passed you by then stopped, icy blue eyes scanning the area around him until they landed on you.

“What’s this?” he mused, motioning to one of the soldiers, who rushed and grabbed you, pulling you from your spot.

“Let me go!” you cried, tears already sliding down your face. The soldier threw you to the man’s feet, a foot placed on your lower back to keep you from escaping.

“What is a woman doing here?” the platinum-haired man scowled. “Only Adagium should be here.”

You whimpered, the soldier’s foot digging into your back. Hand curling into fists, you tried to drag yourself from beneath him -- tried and failed.

“Please, let me go,” you begged, too tired to do anything yourself. Tears were running faster now, and the threat of death had never been closer. “Please, I just want to find my papa. Please--”

“Your papa?” the man frowned. His blue eyes flicked towards the soldier holding you down and the pressure on your back was relieved somewhat. The blue-eyed man crouched before your, taking your shin in his slender fingers. The look he gave you was enough to make your blood freeze, and a sliver of fear planted itself in your mind. “Adagium has no children.” His fingers withdrew from your face mere seconds before something connected with your cheek.

You tasted copper in your mouth, felt the undeniable sensation of blood dribbling from your mouth, the warm sticky substance dripping onto the ground beneath you. You felt dizzy -- how hard had they hit you? Satisfied that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, the man and his soldiers left you lying in the dirt.

***

“Over here!”

The voice broke through the fog surrounding your mind, (e/c) eyes fluttering open to see someone clad in black. They had a mask covering the lower half of their face, and a hood pulled over their head. Mustering up enough strength, you reached towards them, fingers trembling.

“Please, help Papa,” you whispered, vision already slipping into black. “Please.” You felt yourself being lifted into sturdy arms, and your head thumped against the person’s chest. Your whine sounded far away to your ears, and the person’s arms tightened around you as they were pulled into a warp. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in so long, warping, and it made your stomach churn and your heart ache.

You had just wanted to find your papa.

***

Soft hands caressed your forehead, dragging you from slumber. As (e/c) eyes fluttered open, they were met with a blinding light, and you were forced to shut them again.

“It’s alright, take your time,” a woman’s voice said. Her words were soft -- as soft as her hands -- when she spoke, and you groaned, opening your eyes again. You were met with an endearing smile, kind eyes, and arguably the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her smile grew wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and you were immediately reminded of your mother. “There you are. How are you feeling?”

“Where am I?” you questioned. As much as you wanted to flinch away from the woman’s touch, you didn’t want to seem rude so you sat still.

“You are in Insomnia, dear,” she answered, and her smile never wavered. Your mouth opened to form another question, but she beat you to it. “You are in the Citadel, in the Crown City. Here, the Lucian kings watch over citizens of Insomnia and the surrounding territories.”

“Why am I here?”

“Because you were never meant to stay exiled on Angelgard, (Y/n),” a new voice joined in, and your head whipped around to see a man approaching. He stood next to the woman, a hand clasped to her shoulder as they exchanged smiles. His green eyes turned to you, and against your will you shrunk back. “Somnus never meant to harm you, his niece. In fact, he had always meant to raise you as his own should anything ever befall his brother.Even as you were a child, he knew that you held the qualities of a leader, and he had intended on naming you his heir before you disappeared.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you muttered.

“You’re here because I would like to give you the chance you never had,” the man sighed. “I would like to name you my heir, should you let me.”

***

You cooed at little Noctis, your smile splitting your face as the baby gurgled at you.

“He’s grown attached, it seems,” Regis laughed from the doorway, watching you care for the young prince. (E/c) eyes lifted to lock with the king’s before going back to Noctis.

“He wouldn’t be the only one,” you whispered, giving the baby an eskimo kiss and making him laugh. “I never had a younger sibling before, and I was nervous when you and Lady Aulea had told me about Noctis. But now I can see how everyone is so enamored with the little one. He is quite the charmer, even at this age.”

***

When Noctis was named the Chosen King, you had felt your heart shatter. You knew what it entitled, being the Chosen King, and you never wanted that for him. He was your little brother.

When Noctis and his friends had taken off on their journey, Regis had confided in you before sending you off to join his son. And when Insomnia fell, you had become a shell. Your entire family was now in the Beyond, and you had no way to join them -- you were immortal, so how could you?

When you had rejoined Noctis and the others, you had cried yourself to sleep, clinging to the Chosen King and swearing you would always protect him. That you would always be at his side for him to use.

When the sun disappeared and your identity as Ardyn’s daughter had been revealed, you found solace in Noctis’s best friend, more often than not falling asleep in Prompto’s arms. He never pushed you away for what you were, for where you came from.

When Noctis returned, you were forced to watch as he sacrificed himself for Eos. You hadn’t been able to do anything to help him, after all -- you could only watch.

When a year had passed since Noctis’s death, you had tried to join him and your father, wanting nothing more than to be reunited with them. But Prompto and Ignis had managed to find you before it had been too late, the two men talking you out of the dark place your mind had taken you.

When Ignis passed on, there was no one left to keep you tethered to the physical plane, and you finally joined them once again.

-----

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[justmailuck789]

Lightis ‘The Witcher’ AU Headcanon

Ever since I was watching Netflix’s The Witcher, my life’s never been the same. I was hot and bothered by it, constantly thinking about it…I was dying for more lmao. Thankfully, there is a Lightis day dedicated to The Witcher, so I thought…why not make silly headcanons about it? I will say though my knowledge of The Witcher storyline and the lore of it is very lacking, so if I got anything wrong, please accept my humblest apology. A bit of a warning though: The headcanon is very lengthy and long. And by lengthy I mean I did it from the beginning and end, because I couldn’t help it to be honest 😅. Hopefully, the undercut will save you guys from reading such a long post. If not, I’M SORRY. Blame Tumblr. Without further ado, let’s start! @lightisdays2k @givelightningherharem

So instead of the existent of “witchers”, there are l’Cie folks living in the world of Eos. And let’s just say these l’Cie have… “superhuman” powers such as strength, prediction of the future, high intelligence, healers, skilled hunters, and more. Finding a l’Cie is pretty hard nowadays since they’re all typically humans. And yes, to identify a l’Cie is if they have their brand on the skin. Most of them cover it up though.

Lightning Farron is a known mercenary l’Cie, always travelling and looking for some gil to feed for herself and sister. Light will accept anything that involves beast eliminations. But because of her always killing beasts, actual hunters who do this for a living get irritated. So, there are a few hunters who are willing to seek her and have her head.

Now let’s fast forward to where Lightning was minding her own business with Serah. The two were trying to find some wood for the fire to use for the night when they hear someone calling for help in the middle of the forest. Light instructs Serah to go back to the tent and hide. The older Farron investigates where the cry is coming from. Lightning finds a lone woman struggling to fight off a big behemoth. The woman’s magic is defending her from the incoming bites and scratches, but her powers are quickly fading. So Lightning comes to the rescue and easily defeats the behemoth before it can eat the woman for dinner.

The woman is thankful for Lightning and asked what she wanted. Lightning has nothing she desires, but the woman insisted. She decides to invite Lightning and Serah over to an upcoming banquet with a neighboring country from Niflheim. This is when Lightning discovers she and her sister are going over to some royal banquet and finds out the woman is Queen Aulea of Lucis. And yes, Queen Aulea knew that Lightning is l’Cie (and Serah too).

So at the banquet, Queen Aulea is already exposing the fact that Lightning and Serah are l’Cie, a race that is thought to be extinct.

Let’s say there as an assassination attempt on King Regis in the banquet (they were probably Niflheim spies, but no one knows), but Lightning has yet again saved the royal family and putting that assassin behind bars. Thankful once again, Queen Aulea asks if there is anything Lightning wants. Lightning does not want anything but finding her “focus”.

Every single l’Cie that is breathing in Eos were destined to find their “focus”. If they were fulfill it, then that l’Cie will be granted eternal life by turning into crystal. Or if they fail/give up finding it, then they turn into a beast. But for the sake of this AU, imma say that the l’Cie were already granted eternal life without being turned into crystal, staying forever in their 20s-30s.

ANYWAYS…the element of surprise comes to play when Queen Aulea suddenly vomits in the banquet! “What did you do?!” Regis panicked. His Queen is pregnant, and it’s linked towards Lightning. Of course, I’m not saying Light is gonna be the mother of Noctis in the future, but he is gonna be connected towards her “focus”.

Destiny (and Serah) starts throwing clues at Lightning about the future of Lucis and the whole world, but Lightning coolly dismisses it because she thinks it’s all foolery.

12 years and 9 months later, Insomnia falls. Just hours before the fall, Lightning and Serah decided to visit Insomnia, after the two sisters had an argument about how the past events they got themselves into were just too coincidental to begin with: like how Lightning was unable to sleep that whole week, the vague words of a dying princess she was hired to kill. Lightning eventually agrees with Serah to accept the fact she and King Regis’s child were meant to be. However, King Regis refuses and puts Lightning and Serah in prison.

Once Niflheim invades Insomnia, Lightning and Serah escaped the prison. They both see that King Regis is dead, making it a very high priority for Lightning to search for the kid.

I KNOW IT’S STUPID BUT HEAR ME OUT--Oh yeah and maybe Serah turns into crystal after fulfilling her “focus” when she tells her sister to find Noctis, now that things are starting to get real.

Meanwhile, 12-year-old Noctis escapes Insomnia, his father’s words of “finding a l’Cie named Lightning, for she is your destiny”. Now I dunno if I want to add in Noct’s friends (Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis). …Maybe I should since it’ll be weird to have Noctis to be by himself. Don’t worry, none of them dies!

Of course, Niflheim does find out Prince Noctis is still out there, alive…and the emperor wants him dead.

At some point, Lightning and Noctis meets up. The real fun begins here because lklfkds. Lightning trains Noctis and the boys most of their lives. Of course, the beginning of training wasn’t too fun in Noctis’s eyes. Wooden swords? Fighting with dummies? LAME. Noctis wants some real training, but Light is so damn strict. She probably made him run about 3 miles and back to her home as punishment.

Noct will quickly learn that Light also has a soft heart. Light can be relentless with her kills whenever there were beasts or bandits within her property, it makes Noct wonder if she’s “human”. This all changes when he sees her tending to an injured black wolf pup. He thought she was gonna kill it, but she didn’t. She was nice enough to let him keep the pup since she can tell the pup is an orphan. Thus, Noctis affectionately names the wolf Umbra hehehe.

Along with the intense training Noct and boys were doing, there were also some cute moments within Light’s house. As a little boy with child-like tendencies, Noctis wanted to play in the beach near her home instead of training today. And because Noct was being so damn cute, Light couldn’t deny him and let him relax. He swore he saw her smile for a second.

And maybe…just maybe…Noctis started to develop feelings for Lightning. He shook his head, it’s only a small crush. I mean she is pretty and all, but she probably has a lover or something…right?

Then about 6 months later (after the beach time fun), some snitch pointed a finger at Lightning’s house, and a small Niflheim army marched over there. SHIT! Lightning cursed and woke Noctis and the boys up. The only thing Noct heard from her is “RUN!” before she clashed a sword with a Niflheim soldier. Noctis wanted to fight, too, but he was too young. So he and the boys fled off while Light fights off every soldier. And it took her a while, got a few injuries, but she survived. She tried to go look for him, thinking maybe he’d hid somewhere but he was nowhere to be found. Light searched high and low for him without any luck.

And let’s say Noct and the boys were caught, but Niflheim only got him in less than a minute because Noct somehow warped away from his captures and escaped with his friends. The boys never really did reunite with Lightning now that Niflheim knows Noct is on the run.

Years later, Lightning finally gets a lead of Noct’s whereabouts after looking for him in what it seems like forever. She wouldn’t know how old he is since it’s been THAT long the last time she saw him. He’s must be an adult by now…she guessed. She eventually learns that the young prince is looking for royal arms scattered around Eos and attempting to defeat Niflheim by himself and his friends (also reclaiming the throne as the rightful king of Lucis).

She would be so close in reuniting with him after years not seeing him, but he’s always a step ahead of her. While Noct is on his mission, Niflheim is also tracking him down. Being the last prince of the Caelum family, he is still connected to the Crystal’s power. And let’s pretend that Emperor Aldercapt can’t get his wrinkly fingers on the Crystal, so as long as Noctis is still alive, which is the reason why Niflheim is hunting him down.

FINALLY, Lightning and Noctis reunite in Altissia! Light would notice…Noct grew to a fine young man, as well as Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis. But their happy little reunion would be cut short when there’s word that the Niflheim army is approaching. And Noct and Light knew they wouldn’t be able to fight the army with only five people, so they need to round up few more people. Noct would be asking around the people in Leide region, Duscae, and Tenebrae while Lightning will be rounding up other l’Cie folks, Cleigne region of Lucis, and talking to first secretary Camelia in Altissia.

With the whole world of Eos fighting against Niflheim, the empire army gets a bit overwhelmed heh. The army retreats. But it’s not a celebration yet! Emperor Aldercapt is still alive, and Noct is determined to kill that old man now that he has the 13 royal arms with him.

LET’S TALK ABOUT THE DAMN ROMANCE NOW THAT NOCTIS IS OLDER YAYYYY 😘. Noctis actually wanted to reunite with her earlier, but things keep getting in the way. Maybe Light started to feel attracted to him too when she sees him for the first time in years. Even though he has physically changed, he’s still the sweet boy she remembers. Oh yeah don’t worry Umbra is here too!

In battle though, Noct is little too eager to fight and wants to go in head on with his warp strike. Light would be annoyed by it and the two would argue about how they battle. For example, Noct would sometimes overuse his Royal Arm weapon which drains him and make him vulnerable to attack. Light would be there to deflect the attack and give him a potion. And Ignis and the others would tell Noct he needs to be careful. To his defense, he forgets, but not when Light is yelling at him as if he just committed a murder and didn’t tell anyone.

Now there was a point where Noct and Light were doing a side mission where they were attending a masquerade ball because there is a former Niflheim spy wishing to talk to Noct and spill the tea about the emperor’s plan. The ball itself was beautiful. Light was beautiful in a dress. Noct couldn’t stop staring at her. There was that one time a drunk was stalking them and hitting on Light, that it made Noctis to kiss Lightning to show that she’s supposedly “taken”. The kiss was sweet. She realized…he’s a good kisser 😩.

They probably banged a few times too when the chemistry starts heating up. First time was when they were arguing after the fact a djinn escaped and Noct wanted to use it to grant three wishes 🤭. Light knew djinns are no joke, so she fought and freed the djinn, making Noct pissed hehe. Their second time was when Noct confessed his feelings to her. “You’re important to me…” he whispered in his sleep.

Pillow talk moments where he learns how she craves to be human again instead of being a l’Cie, how he promised her they’ll get rid of the l’Cie mark together, even though it look sexy as hell on her left shoulder 😉.

Romance aside, Noct, his friends, and Light now are gonna prepare to fight Emperor Aldercapt once and for all. They knew the fight is gonna be tough. The travel from Lucis to Niflheim will take them a while. The party created a plan to infiltrate the imperial palace. A group of l’Cie mages will create a magic barrier around the palace to prevent anyone from leaving and/or entering the premise. And if the backup tries to harm the l’Cie, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto will be there to defend.

Noct and Light would be the one fighting Emperor Aldercapt. It was a tough fight. The old man sure can use his magic pretty well 😯. Noct was gravely injured at some point and was about to be killed when Lightning jumped in took the hit!

But…BUT. Time suddenly stops! Light meets Etro Herself in another dimension. Seems like Etro is mad that Lightning is intervening Noct’s inevitable death. But Light wasn’t going to let it happen because she loves him. Then Etro says something about Light’s focus, which is to make sure Noct doesn’t die and that he is crowned king. But because Noctis is gonna die, it’ll mean Light has failed her focus, but she’s not gonna have that shit. So you know what happens? She fights with Etro 😱. Light ended up winning and decided to let Noctis live and make Light defend the incoming blow once time resumes back to normal. Unbeknownst to her, she didn’t notice her l’Cie brand is gone.

At last, Emperor Aldercapt is defeated! Noct and his friends are now deemed heroes of Eos. Noctis wants Light to be queen, so they married and start rebuilding Insomnia to its former glory 😊.

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

@writtenxbeginnings

'i'd die to be where you are - i tried to be where you are. every night, i dream you're still here the ghost by my side, so perfectly clear when i awake, you'll disappear back to the shadows with all i hold dear with all i hold dear I DREAM YOU'RE STILL HERE.'

--- Still Here, Digital Daggers

[autumnstwilight]

Crystalized

Rating: T Words: ~5.5k Tags: FFXV, one-shot, IgNoct, King Regis, soulmates, Omen Trailer, Verse 2 Summary: As his infant son sleeps, King Regis dreams of a future prince and a lonely, bloodstained end to it all. Desperate to avert this future, he begs the Crystal to ensure that one of his son's companions will stay with him always. But the magic has a will of its own, and his simple plea has unintended consequences.

Read on AO3

It was after Aulea passed that Regis began to have the dreams. A young man, clad in the black of royalty, stumbling through a vast desert. Though the youth was much older than his Noctis, who was only just beginning to shed the baby fat from his cheeks, he knew them to be one and the same. The young man looked around, with eyes as empty as the clear skies above him, as cold as ice. Leaning on his sword, he rose to his feet and pushed onward, following in the path of a dog who left no tracks nor trace on the silken sand. An elegant and noble creature, with a magnificent coat of pure white, but the shadow that stretched across the sands showed the beast hunched, jaws open and slavering as it trotted along with the mien of a starved wolf. And though the youth followed faithfully, Regis felt a deep sense of dread, knowing that the right path had been lost long ago, and buried under the shifting dunes.

When the time came, the wolf would devour the boy, far from the places that anyone knew. Blood and bone would be swallowed by the desert, never to be seen again.

He tried, in his waking hours, to put the dreams from his mind. He told himself that these nightmares were in some way, natural, a manifestation of his grief for his wife and his anxieties over his son’s future. It was to be expected.

And yet at night, when the yellow gaze of the wolf met his own, saliva dripping from a blackened tongue, he could take no reassurance in these thoughts.

The crystal hummed, an eternal, dim vibration like the aftershock of a struck bell. Perhaps he was the only one who could hear it. Still it teased at the periphery of his senses, a tune forever waiting for the next note. A consonance that never came. He felt that he could go mad with it, wondered if his ancestors had. The un-song spoke to him, warning him to be wary. To be vigilant. To be afraid.

The dreams were no mere anxiety. He held his sleeping child close to his chest, feeling his tiny ribcage expand and contract, the heavy and relaxed warmth of one who was not dreaming at all. The closer the wolf came, night after night, the more certain he was that this was an ill omen.

It had always been planned that Ignis Scientia, the firstborn son of House Scientia, would be the advisor for the next king, even before Noctis himself had been born. The boys would be raised together, and come to develop the trust and understanding that could only exist between brothers. Now that the boy had grown into a charmingly polite, well-behaved, and bright five-year-old, Regis saw no reason at all to change that plan. Rather, he found himself pushing for them to be introduced ahead of schedule.

“The boy hasn’t even begun his own schooling yet. What could he possibly advise your son on?”

“He will not need to advise yet. I merely hope that they can form a bond between them, one that will ever pull my son toward the light.”

It was done as the king said. The small boy peered up at him over thick-rimmed glasses, fidgeting a little with nerves. Perhaps he was not yet old enough to understand what he was being told about his role, what it meant for a king to push ever onward. What it meant to accept consequences. Yet he answered to Regis in a clear voice, and held out his hand to Noctis. The boys held on to each other tightly.

And the dreams continued. Again and again Noctis stumbled, alone on foreign battlefields, led astray by forces he didn’t comprehend. The wolf salivated over the blood spilled, waiting for him to fall. Where were the friends and allies that he should have? Would his son truly be left to face the world alone?

It was another year before he decided that something must be done. He took the boys deep into the Citadel, to the darkened room with the towering black vault. Here, the magic hummed louder than anywhere else. An electric blue danced at the corners of his vision. At the center of it all was a fearsome and unforgiving light.

The boys stood before the vault, hand in hand. Noctis seemed to shiver as they approached, and Ignis squeezed his hand, looking on with curiosity. Such a faithful and obedient child never seemed to suspect that an adult might do wrong, and therefore, he never seemed to fear as long as there was one around. He looked at the king with unblemished trust.

Regis reached out a hand to the Crystal, and made his plea.

Please give my son a guide. I know that the road will be hard, but do not let him face the trials ahead alone. Let the fate of this boy be forever entwined with my son’s, so that at the very least, they will always have each other.

Threads of magic began to form in the palm of his hand, an answer. He drew them in gently, like strands of spider silk, and carefully twisted them, so that they became one. It was done. He swayed on his feet, momentarily leaning against the Crystal’s vault. The magic was heavy, even in its delicacy.

Ignis had not let go of Noctis’ hand.

The dreams never ceased, but they changed. He still saw Noctis, blade in hand, fighting an endless onslaught of armored soldiers. His hair still clung to his face with sweat, his chest still heaved with his labored breathing, his blood still splattered in spidery patterns across the ground. But his once cold and pale eyes had taken on a deeper shade of blue, a whisper of the crystalline magic in his veins.

At the end of the dreamscape, he confronted the wolf, and took its head as a prize.

It was not long after when Regis learned the truth.

He sank to his knees in front of the vault that held the Crystal, willing the images to vanish from his mind. His own hand, his own blade, his own son.

Chosen.

The ring of the Lucii burned cold around his finger, and he had never wanted more to tear the thing off and shatter it with his blade, sink the pieces to the depths of the ocean, let the world be damned. What future, what light, what gods dared to demand his son as their price? He had borne every burden of his lineage without complaint, but this was a weight that threatened to break him.

His ancestors did not try to console him, merely reminded him of the fate they had each carried, one after another, for close to two millennia. Something so great could not be stopped once it was put into motion. It was meaningless to try. The Chosen would meet his destiny one way or another. The readiness was all.

The king wiped the tears from his eyes, swallowed down the taste of bile, and walked tall from the room.

His grief lingered, it was many months before he could so much as look at his son without the pain lancing through his heart anew. And so, it was even longer before he came to comprehend the cruelty of what he had done.

Noctis was playing with Ignis as usual, the older boy ever patient and kind, beyond anything Regis could have asked from one so young. He still held within his hand their twin strings of fate, though he had not looked at them since that day when he had first deigned to interfere. Noctis fell, and Ignis was there to help him stand, to brush the dirt from his knees and hands. Regis opened his palm to see, in his mind’s eye, what he had been avoiding. The two threads were irreversibly entwined, bound now by the will of the Crystal and not his own. Yet one thread now came to a short and clipped end, and beyond that, the other paled and frayed, miserable in contrast to how brightly it shone with its partner intact.

The guilt was sharp. He looked at the boy, a good and brave child, one he and Noctis already owed so much to. One who was already beginning to feel like a second son. He thought of Aulea, and the part of him that had been ripped away when she died. He thought of Noctis, and the all-consuming grief that would not only be felt by him, but which he had now condemned another to.

Ignis, I have done you wrong.

There was little that could be done, except to hope that he did not err further. It had been a desperate and foolish mistake, one made by a new father out of love for his son. He hoped that the gods and ancestors would forgive him. He vowed to take it as a reminder of the power and responsibility that he bore.

His guilt over this matter, however, was forgotten in the wake of the Marilith attack. His sole focus, his sole wish, his sole purpose was to make sure that Noctis recovered. The world could not survive without its chosen king, he told himself. It was right, difficult but right, to sacrifice all else to ensure that Noctis was safe. That was how he silenced the knowledge that he himself could not withstand another blow.

They left the ashes of Tenebrae behind them. The future oracle had chosen to remain. He had taken Noctis and run, while she stood tall, refusing to abandon her home and brother. Stronger than any child should be. Would Noctis ever be able to live up to her? Would he?

By the time they returned to Insomnia, he had forgotten all about Ignis.

It was late at night by the time they returned, yet the boy was waiting. He appeared somewhat thin and tired, but ran to Regis’ side and reached up to hold Noctis’ hand, as he slept in the king’s arms. He took a moment to cling, one hand on Noctis and the other clutching and the king’s cape, and Regis allowed it, before taking him by the hand as he headed to Noct’s bedroom. When the prince was tucked in, Ignis crawled onto the bed beside him. After a moment, Regis cleared his throat to suggest that Ignis return to his parents, but the boy was already asleep. He sighed, and adjusted the blankets to cover them both.

And so it went on. He could hardly voice complaint about how inseparable the boys were, not when he had willed it himself, but it was another of so many things that filled him with quiet dread toward the future. Loath be it for him to deny their present happiness, ephemeral as it must be.

Though his physical wounds healed, Noctis was never quite the same after the attack, and Regis was pleased that he had at least one friend to serve as comfort and support. He was also getting along better with the Amicitia’s boy these days, but their relationship was more push and pull. Gladiolus taunted and cheered Noctis in turns, drawing determination from his complacency. On the other hand, Ignis provided him with quiet counsel and a listening ear. He also seemed eager to take on a wide assortment of tasks for the prince, despite the fact that some of them were for Noctis to do, and others could have easily been left to the servants. He was never intended to be a maid, and yet he cleared up Noctis’ things without complaint, dipping into a bow and responding, “It’s no trouble at all, your Majesty,” when Regis attempted to discourage this habit. He practically had to give the boy a scolding, saying that it was imperative that Noctis learn to take responsibility for himself. Ignis finally relented, thought Regis suspected that he was still coddling Noctis in private and taking the fall for his son’s errors, though he could never prove it.

It was only a short time after Noctis had begun his first year of junior high. The prince attended school in a well-off and safe neighborhood, but it was a public school nonetheless, so that he might learn a little of life outside the nobility, and sympathy for the common people. Or such was the official reasoning. The true reason was so that, even for a short time, he could experience a carefree life, to the extent that it was possible.

Ignis, on the other hand, worked near from dawn to dusk with private tutors not bound to traditional school hours. Not all of the blocks in his schedule were full, but it was understood that the majority of the empty ones would be devoted to self-study, and the remainder to the prince. It was a schedule that an adult would find punishing, and yet, at fourteen, he seemed to be thriving under the pressure. The only hint to the contrary was the ever-present can of black coffee beside his stack of books.

Consequently, Regis was surprised to hear that the boy had requested special permission to begin training with the Crownsguard.

“He's absolutely determined,” said Cor. “I’ve turned him down five times already. But he made me promise to ask you. Says he won't let it interfere with his education or other duties.”

Regis raised a hand to his temple. “I am less worried that he'll neglect his duties than I am that he will neglect himself. He is barely more than a child.”

“He is,” said Cor, “older than I was when I joined. Which he has pointed out to me. Repeatedly.”

“You are…”

“An exception, your Majesty? A special case? You know I don't buy into that ‘Immortal’ bullshit, pardon my words. I am lucky, no more.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Let him give it a shot. If there’s any trouble, I’ll find a reason to turn him away. But gods know I wish all my cadets were this determined.”

It was a few months before Cor admitted, with a hint of sheepishness, that there could be no reason for turning Ignis away from the Crownsguard that would not be an obvious and utter lie.

It had been quite some time since Regis had seen Ignis close up, perhaps not surprising since even meetings with his son were becoming far rarer than he would have liked. But he knew that Noctis would be training today, working on mastering the art of warping. He had decided to make a show of support and encouragement, also wondering if his physical proximity would provide a boost to Noctis’ magic. However, it was Ignis that he saw first.

He seemed to have shot up by at least six inches overnight. His shoulders were much broader, and he had definitely put on some muscle, in contrast to the gangly and bookish look he had had before. When he bowed to Regis and greeted him, his voice was jarringly deep compared to the light, boyish tone the king had become so used to hearing when he and Noctis played together.

Regis nodded and smiled thinly through the abrupt awareness of the passage of time and how damnably old he himself had become.

He gave Ignis a nod and gestured for him to return to his training. The young man seemed to be working through a set of drills with the lance, repeating the same pattern of strikes and parries over and over, each set such a perfect imitation of the last that it could have been a recording set on loop. Regis could find nothing to fault in his form, except for the rather ostentatious twirl he gave the lance before dismissing it in a shower of crystalline sparks. Impressive looking, but impractical, the sort of thing so many young fighters would learn a hard lesson about at the hands of a mentor or, if they were unlucky, a foe.

Noctis and Gladiolus had entered the training hall just prior, and Ignis glanced over as if he had been aware all along, and the showy maneuver was for their benefit. Having finished with his practice, he retreated to the back of the hall to wipe his face with a towel and drape it over his shoulders. Gladiolus had been expecting the king, and so he gave a bow before taking his place as the instructor for this session. Noctis spent several long moments staring in his father’s direction before also getting into position, summoning a blunt-edged training sword into his hand.

“Noctis.”

His son turned to look at him, with an expression that was vulnerable for a moment before turning guarded, a feigned teenage disaffection.

“I’m here to help, if you will let me. Show me what you can do.”

Noctis gave a cocky, half-grin, “Don’t need help. But I’ll show you.”

And he was off. The warp was clumsy, heavily telegraphed, and fell short of the target, earning him a whack over the head with Gladiolus’ wooden training sword. He barely caught himself before his face hit the ground. But it was indeed a true warp strike, perhaps his first. Gladiolus was pulling Noctis to his feet with a broad grin, and Noctis too was grinning while rubbing his presumably bruised scalp.

Across the hall, beyond the shimmering trail of magic and the fading afterimage, Ignis was staring back at them, the light of the crystal reflected in his eyes as though he were transfixed. When he realized that he had been noticed, he quickly turned away. But to Regis, he had already betrayed himself.

Regis was not one to act without consideration. He had, after all, learned something from his younger days. He waited for another opportunity to drop by a place where he knew the boys would likely be, and observe their interaction for a while before greeting his son.

He watched them cross the courtyard together. Ignis was immaculately dressed as always, something that became even more apparent when it was Noctis standing next to him. He carried himself well, with better posture than half the dignitaries and nobleman Regis had seen. He was alert and protective, and that perhaps was a result of his training. But there was something else in the way he was just a shade closer to Noctis than necessary, the way he reached out to steer and guide him, though his hand rarely touched, in the way his gaze always strayed back to Noctis, though never when Noctis was looking. And in the way his overly serious expression gave way to a clumsy but brilliant smile when Noctis placed a hand on his arm and addressed him fondly.

“Thanks Iggy. I’ll see you later.... Hi, Dad.”

The suspicion that had been lurking since that day in the training room was confirmed. The boy was smitten.

He could not shake the feeling that all of this was his fault, though he tried to persuade himself otherwise. He had asked the Crystal to give Noctis a guide, not for… this. It was likely simple happenstance, a passing teenage fancy and nothing to do with magic. But his heart was heavy, as he called Ignis aside after a Citadel meeting and waited until all others had filed out of the room, filling the time with chatter about Noctis’ exam results, training and diet. When they were alone, he broached the real topic of this discussion.

“Ignis. I imagine that you are aware of this, but now that Noctis has grown older I must say it out loud. He is my only son, and likely destined for a political marriage. You understand how precarious our situation is, and how few options for negotiation are left to us, so I will not impress them upon you.”

Ignis nodded, serious and attentive as always, with an expression that said he was waiting for what would be said next.

“I understand that teenagers will do as teenagers are wont to do. However, in light of the… circumstances, I feel that Noctis becoming involved in any serious kind of, should I say, romantic entanglement would be undesirable, given that it will likely be brought to an end by events outside of his control.”

He could tell now, that though Ignis’ expression was still impassive, there were feelings brewing just under the surface and kept away from the light. His jaw had tensed, his fingertips had gone white from the pressure on the stack of paper in his hands.

“I know and trust that you have no desire to see him hurt. Do take care to guide him so.” Regis said this as gently as he could, but found himself unable to meet Ignis’ eyes for the pain he might find there.

“Of course. Your Majesty.” Ignis’ voice was level, but his tone bore the fierce protectiveness it always did toward Noctis. Regis knew he had achieved what he had set out to do, Ignis would defend Noctis from his own feelings as fiercely as he did anything else. And hopefully, that would save the both of them at least a small measure of pain.

Dismissed, Ignis bowed and left the room. When the door closed, Regis sank into the nearest chair. He hoped that some day, doing the right thing would feel right.

Time ran thin, and the day and hour of their parting drew close. He stood on the stairs before the Citadel, hoping that someday, Noctis would understand his words, along with all the things he was unable to say. And perhaps that he would be forgiven.

At least, by the time his powers finally failed and Niflheim-made weapons tore his body apart, Noctis would be far away and safe.

The crystal realm was a cold place where he sat, silent and vigilant, waiting for the destined hour. The minds of his forebears bled into his own, their hearts unmoving and unmoved, single-minded in their duty to the soul of the star. His first act here had been to beg for the life of Nyx Ulric and the future of Insomnia, and he could not help but feel that among these ancients, he was seen as a foolish and sentimental child. If so, then let him be. They had been separated from human concerns for a great time, and had forgotten. He would remind them then, of compassion. The Father King was also a role that must be played.

The next to arrive was not his son, but a stumbling figure, drenched, shivering, battered from head to toe. But his gaze was fiery, and his voice clear and ringing in the void. Regis would have known him anywhere.

“Kings of Lucis, lend me your strength!”

Along with his own horror, the merciless judgement of the Mystic rose in the back of his mind, he knew that the Founder King would strike before it happened. He allowed no intrusions by the unworthy. Ignis was screaming, clutching his eyes, yet trying desperately to utter the rest of his plea. Regis held up a hand, knowing the Mystic would sense his intentions.

“Let us hear him.”

“He has no part in this. Merely another mortal begging to alter the future for their own shortsighted ends.”

The Mystic paused for a moment.

“One who has already touched the light of the Crystal with vulgar hands. A second intrusion will not be forgiven.”

Surrounded by blue flames, Ignis’ eyes were wide with pain and terror.

“It is my fault,” spoke Regis, and the other Kings of Yore shifted. “Do not judge this boy for a wrong which I myself committed.”

The Mystic allowed Ignis a moment of respite, and the young man struggled to catch his breath. His head turned to Regis, and the Father King spoke.

“I, too, sought to save the life of my son. I took their fates and bound them. You know that it was I who made the plea. He could not have, could never… He was only a child.”

“Worldly foolishness. You have shamed us.” It was the Rogue who spoke.

“I am not asking you to forgive me.”

And then came Ignis’ voice, ragged but unbroken, “Ardyn…”

Regis tilted his head toward the Mystic. "Oh. It seems we have your brother to thank for this. Shall we not aid in this battle?”

The Mystic shifted, then drew himself up to full height.

“It is our duty to fight against the Immortal Accursed. We shall not let this opportunity pass us by. However,” he lowered his head toward Ignis, “the price will be paid. By this boy. You have nothing left to give.”

“If it must be so…” Regis sighed, accepting.

Ignis looked up at the Founder King, breathing heavily but undaunted, and Regis felt a surge of pride amidst the relentless sorrow.

“If it costs my own life to save him,” he spoke with the weight of an oath, “I will pay that price.”

A myriad of emotions rose and overlapped. The satisfaction of the Mystic, the battle-hunger of the Fierce, the rebelliousness of the Rogue, the protectiveness of the Just, the sentiment of the Oracle, the serenity of the Wise, the resolution of the Warrior, the dutifulness of the Pious, the determination of the Conqueror, the readiness of the Clever, the acceptance of the Wanderer, the loftiness of the Tall.

The love of the Father.

Regis knelt before Ignis, leaning forward so as not to tower over him. The young man looked fragile, pale, small. He saw his own blue light shimmer across Ignis’ features, shining back from his eyes and catching in his wet and mussed hair. He reached out a single fingertip to brush that hair aside. Ignis looked up at him, unflinching.

“Your fate is not to die here. The Ring will take a toll on your flesh, the power will exact its blood price, and I can do nothing to stop it. But fight well, and your life will not be taken from you.”

Ignis placed a hand over his heart and bowed in response. Regis continued, knowing that he had but one chance to make things right.

“I am afraid that I must seek your forgiveness. Long ago, I sought to change my son’s fate, by altering yours. I fear that all I have done is placed a thorn in your heart, one that will cause you much pain. I could not undo my mistake then. I can now.”

Ignis’ gaze faltered for a moment, and he appeared to be searching for words. When he spoke again, his voice was as bold as always.

“Your Majesty, with all due respect… That thorn, as you call it, is the most precious thing that I have in the world. I will not give it back.”

He smiled for the first time since he had arrived in this strange place.

“I remember that day, when I stood in a place not unlike this, and the spirits asked me if i would stay with Noctis forever. If I was willing to die for him. My answer has not changed. Nor will it ever.”

Regis spoke again, “You were merely a child. You never should have been asked. Not to change your own fate.”

“Be that as it may. But if I may speak frankly, I don’t care why I love Noctis.”

And there was the fierceness, stripped down to its core.

“Had I never touched this fire… had our paths diverged, I have no idea who I would have become. That man is a stranger to me, and one I rather pity, knowing what he has missed.”

The expression on his face, in his voice, was so tender that it seemed it might break if it were touched.

“Leave the thorn in my heart. Let the fire consume me. That’s all I ask.”

“Very well,” said Regis, and rose to his feet, stepping back to join the other Kings of Yore. “The battles ahead will be hard, and the road long. But I have faith in you.”

Ignis bowed once more, and while his face was hidden, Regis spoke.

“One last thing. Whatever form your love for my son takes, you have my blessing to pursue it.”

He looked up, surprise flickering across his expression like the firelight, and then he was gone.

When Noctis arrived, he was alone. Even the Kings of Yore did not convene for him, there was no need to pass judgement on one who possessed the birthright to use the Ring. He could not hear the voices of his ancestors, only feel the cold flame settle into his veins. Ever so slowly, the power would chip away at his bones. But the wolf was at his heels now, and so he had to struggle forward, lest he fall and be devoured.

I am here, said Regis, and hoped that he sensed it. Noctis gathered strength, and moved forward, the Sword of the Father held tightly in his hands.

Despite all of his efforts at averting it, the dream had come to pass. Fate could not be defied, or perhaps their enemy was simply too great. The only hope, the only one that there had ever been, was that Noctis would be strong enough to do this on his own.

There was both pain and pride in watching him battle. His was not the steady, unshakable determination of the others who had worn the Ring of their own free will, but the hesitance of a child bearing a mantle that was far too big for him. He faltered, he trembled, he stumbled. But he did not give up.

And when the jaws closed around him and all seemed lost, it turned out that he was not alone after all.

When Noctis was drawn into the Crystal, Regis saw all of it through his eyes. There was nothing here but the endless reverberance of the Light, and so Noctis’ memories spilled like ink to color the void. His doubts, his pain, his fear. The knowledge of his final destiny that Regis had withheld from him for so long. Lunafreya, sinking to the depths. Ignis, scarred and helpless. Ravus, twisted into something cruel, far beyond anything Noctis would have wished on him.

And beneath that, over that, woven through it all, love, love, love. Every moment spent with his friends shining in bright fragments. Every word, every touch, every smile, every laugh. He loved with the fury and intensity that only mortals know, when their love must come to an end. It put the brilliance of the Gods to shame. Perhaps this was why their Providence was to be borne in the hands of a man.

“The Light waxes full.”

The new king departed on his final journey.

Threads of fate twisted and twirled as if blown by the wind, endlessly fluctuating possibilities. Like spider silk, they were so thin and pale that they could only be seen in the brief moments when they caught the light, and like spider silk, they were far stronger than they appeared. Even the gods could not read nor predict these undulations, as one could never count the waves on the sea, and so they handled them indelicately, slicing through the web with flames and blades and claws to serve their own ends, heedless of the lives torn by their weight. But the severed ends still shimmered, and after exploring a thousand thousand possibilities, they caught and held fast.

Two threads converged and shone bright.

The power had passed from the Ring, and the souls contained within freed to their eternal rest. Their duty complete, they seemed to bear no further interest in the living world. Regis lingered, still new and human, bound to the world by the loved ones that dwelt there.

This was the future that so many had lived and died in service of. He wanted to see it, at least for a moment. The world was battle-torn and weary, but it basked under the warm light of a sun that would never again be blotted out. Flowers bloomed from the cracked roads, and still waters gathered where the earth had been torn.

He followed then, along with Noctis, through the halls and courtyards to be rediscovered, their aching familiarity and strange novelty after so much time. The throne room was bright with the sunlight that fell through the missing wall, laying bare the tattered and faded interior. Motes of dust spun their winding dance on the air.

Noctis wasn’t alone. The blue magic had died with the Crystal, and Regis could no longer see the threads of fate, whether they be bound or unbound. Yet Ignis remained, as did the old scars that marked an offering willingly given. He bowed in service, in loyalty, in affection.

The new King rose from the throne and went with him, falling in step by his side. The light fell across their shoulders in an echo of the first time that Regis had watched the prince and his advisor leave this room. As they walked, Ignis slipped his fingers between Noctis’, ungloved hands revealing the matching scars of the Ring that they bore.

In the garden, there was a confession. An vow. A kiss. The rest was not for him to see.

[assafie90-blog]

25 October 2018

Fast forward to me having 2 babies. So my Tumblr is pretty much dead because....who uses Tumblr now eh? As I sat here by my husband who is currently hospitalized due to a bike accident last Thursday, I can’t help but think how far I have come. How far I have come to this stage of my life. Just last month, I was battling with Thyroid cancer. Thyroid cancer is not as bad as other cancers but at the end of the day, it was still CANCER. I am only 28 years old and so much shit had happened. 2018 have not been nice to me. Soon, it will be November and we are just 2 months shy to 2019. Shops are already counting down to Christmas and I am counting down to the end of my Maternity leave. I have been away for 6 months now from battling with cancer and giving birth to my precious second daughter. The babies are alright, THANK GOD. Aulea is turning 2 soon and Aira is going on to 4 months. Time do past real fast when you don’t pay attention. I guess that’s what Allah is trying to tell me and my husband. I was busy with my career, wanting to do great things. I was always away from home and is always in the office. After I got to know I had Thyroid cancer everything came to a stop. Suddenly everything else just don’t matter. I was struggling to come to terms with it. I keep telling myself its no biggie. Just a tumour. It can’t be cancer. I’m so young and I still have a lot ahead of me. What gave me hope was my age. I was only 28 so its unlikely I will be on stage 3 onwards. The only good thing that came from that news was that its curable. I will just need to be on meds my whole life. 

Whatever it was, it put my life to a stop. I decided that my life is more valuable than anything else. My daughters need me, my husband needs me and I still have a family that cares about me. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have done anything. With the persuasion of my second gynae, I decided to go for the surgery. She introduced me to a surgeon and the surgeon had a talk with me. He made me feel so at ease and comfortable throughout the whole surgery and I was very thankful for that. I would like to give thanks to my gynae too for pushing me instead of giving up on me. If it weren’t for her I probably would still have cancer living in me. It is not over though. I still need to go through a mini chemo procedure which is to take radioactive iodine. It is like chemo but not as intensive. I will need to be hospitalized and be away from people. I have decided to put it on hold as I am breastfeeding Aira. Well I guess there’s another reason why the procedure is put on hold. Last Thursday, 18 October, my husband was caught in a bike accident. It was the scariest day ever cause I was waiting for him to get home but he didn’t come home. His last message to me was he will stop by the mosque for Isyak prayers and will get home after. An hour went by, 2hours, 3 hours, he is still not home. I texted his friends but no one knew where he was. The worst thing was on that particular day, Singtel decides to be shit. Singtel users didn’t have any network so I could not get hold of anybody and nobody could get hold of me. 11pm came and I had put Aira to sleep. That night she had trouble sleeping which was unusual because usually she would have been in bed by 9pm. The phone rang and I recognized that phone number. I wish it was my husband’s but it was not. It was from NUH, the hospital that I went for my surgery. In my mind I knew its not good cause why would a hospital call in the middle of the night unless someone is there at that hour. My heart just sank when the person on the line said NUH A&E. I just knew it was him. They told me a bunch of details and information but all I can think of was to get my ass to the hospital. I hung up and quickly got dressed. Thank god for my helper. I swear it’s all in God’s plans. The helper just started her first day. She was not our first choice. We had shortlisted a few others but all of them were already taken. We had the last option of taking a transfer maid. Luckily, she was available then. It only took a week to get her. I was desperate to get someone as I am preparing to leave for work again. So I got dressed and told the helper to look after the kids while I rush to the hospital. I called my parents and his parents. So many things going through my mind. I just needed to see him. I needed to know he is okay. But of course, when I reached, he was not in there. They had to rush him to the Operation Room to stop his bleeding. He was losing a lot of blood they had to transfuse blood in him. I was waiting in his room and all I could think of was, “What if he left us?”, “What is going to happen to me?”. He came in a few minutes later and I was asked to wait outside. I waited even though they said they will update me once they are done. I only got to see him at 3 in the morning. His face was swollen and I could see he was in pain. He couldn’t say much but I was relieved he was in stable condition. 

Coincidence? or just plain right fate. My husband was placed in the same ward I was in when I had my surgery. I talked to the same doctor that took care of me when I was there. I met with the same nurses who also took care of me when I was there. There gave me the same concern look. “Weren’t you here a month ago?” All I could say was “Yes”. I was crying on the inside. I wasn’t strong for this. I am still recovering from that surgery. I am still mentally drained. It was the helper’s first day so I thought I could finally get some rest but I was very wrong. That very night he had the accident and since then I have been going back and forth between home and the hospital. I couldn’t bear the thought of just leaving him there alone. When I was hospitalized, he didn’t visit me often and I got kind of depressed. It felt like he didn’t care and I was missing the girls terribly. I was crying to the doctors every day to let me go home but alas I was still there for 5 days. Now, he is going through what I went through and I could see in his eyes he regretted what he did to me. He misses the girls terribly. The girls miss him too. I wasn’t able to bring them to see him cause he is stuck in the high dependency ward. Children are not allowed in there. All I could do was show videos of them and video call him in the morning. He was crying today cause he just wanted to go home and see the girls. I knew how hard it is. All I can do now is pray and hope he will recover quickly. It will take some time cause he partially damaged his liver and he fractured some of his bones. I am just grateful that he is okay. As much as I want him to be home soon, I want him to recover properly here in the hospital because once his home there’s nothing I can do. 

All I can do now is stay positive as much as I can. I need to be strong for my loved ones. I may think everything is bleak now but I have always thought some people had it worse than me. I should stop feeling sorry for myself and just pick up the pieces slowly. I have always believed that things happen for a reason and Allah is giving me this huge test because he knew I am strong enough to handle it. I should take this opportunity to get close to him and learn valuables lesson from it. For all the trials and tribulations that I have to go through, it only made me stronger. 

P.S Always and always have faith in His plans.