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bgn846 · 4 years

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Marshal’s Creed FFXV Fanfic

Summary:

Cor dresses up for the annual Halloween gala in hopes to win a bet. Can he beat out everyone else at the party with the best costume?

Notes:

I had a fun prompt from my friend @ragewerthers for Cor Leonis getting invited to a Halloween party.... but what in the HELL is he supposed to go as?! Do Regis and Clarus help him? Do the boys help him? Does he decide to go scary? Funny? Mythical?

I hope you all enjoy, I had fun writing this! :)

Work Text:

“What is he wearing?” Regis asked under his breath from where they were standing near the steps to the throne.

“Not so sure, but it seems pretty popular with the ladies,” Clarus admitted as he craned his neck to see better.

“Dear six, he looks half-naked!” spluttered Regis after a moment.

“Sorta, he’s got pants and maybe something someone would consider a shirt on.” Though Clarus was still clueless as to what Cor had dressed up as. The annual Halloween gala was always a fun event. However, the marshal never dressed up.

Ever.

It was only the quick thinking of Regis with the tempting draw of a bet that enticed their friend into wearing anything special this year. A hefty amount of 500gil sat waiting for Cor if he dressed up and won one of the sundry costume awards to be gifted that night. The prizes given out were little awards trinkets, and the bragging rights until the next party. Of course, Cor could care less about any of that, the only reason he’d even agreed, was to prove Regis wrong and maybe relieve him of some decent spending cash.

The king had figured Cor wasn’t creative enough to even stand a chance. Regis had merely snorted and waved him off when the marshal assured them he’d win something. Now, as Clarus watched their friend navigate through the crowd he was beginning to think Regis might have to pay up at the end of the night.

The squeals of impressed party goers only got louder as Cor approached, as did the flash of lights from photos being snapped. The crowds dispersed once he’d reached the king. Cor yawned once seemingly bored with the whole affair already. “You might as well give me the money now, Regis.”

“Never!” the king hissed, “You aren’t going to win, look at you! What is that, it looks like a pile of rags!”

Before Cor could answer a young staffer passing by interrupted them with a shout, “Awesome costume!” They left just as quickly as Clarus began to examine the outfit in more detail.

“I’m afraid I’m lost as to what you are, care to enlighten us?”

“Eh, this? I have no idea, Noct helped me pick it out. Said it was the best costume to wear and had Ignis go online and order me one before I could say no.”

“You asked my son to help you?”

“Nope, he found out I was going to dress up and he nearly flipped. How could I say no, he begged me to let him help.”

“Still what the hell are you?” Regis asked in exasperation.

“An assassin I think?” Cor supplied with a furrowed brow. “Honestly, the kid was talking too fast for me to catch the exact name, but he said it was from a game.”

“Why in the heck would an assassin wear that? Your entire right side is exposed, seems like a defensive nightmare.”

“I’ll admit it’s not exactly realistic but it’s comfy at least.” Cor offered with a shrug.

“I don’t know why you let my son talk you into this, you look ridiculous.” Regis was about to add more when another party-goer/staffer wandered by and started staring. They were of course after a picture of Cor. The staffer was young and blushing like mad but still managed to ask for a selfie.

“I’m sorry what were you saying majesty? I got pulled away to have my picture taken because I’m going to win.”

Regis sneered and turned around to walk away. Clarus couldn’t help but snicker at the sight. Regis was a sore loser so a part of him hoped Cor wouldn’t win, but he probably would. The marshal, though not a youthful twenty-year-old anymore, could hold his own in the looks department. He was only in his forties now but still trained just as hard. His well-defined six-pack was evidence of that. Clarus suspected that most of the girls wandering over were trying to get a better look at what he’d been hiding under his guard uniform.

Cor for once didn’t mind the attention and even smiled for a few shots. It was nice to see his friend out of his element for once. “Have you seen his highness?” Clarus asked, figuring Noct would have at least had to help Cor get ready. Otherwise, the man wouldn’t have known how to wear the costume.

“Yeah, he’s coming soon, he was getting picky about his nails.”

“What?”

“You’ll see, he’ll match grumpy pants over there,” Cor announced with a chuckle. “Regis thinks sporting little tiny fake fangs makes him a good vampire. He’s so wrong.”

“Oh dear,” Clarus could only guess what Noct had conjured up. Ignis would have been key in gathering his needed elements, but the idea was most likely the princes. “What are the others dressing up as?”

Cor barked out a laugh, “I only saw Ignis and Prompto but it appeared they were wearing matching black suits.”

“That’s it?”

“Almost, if you don’t count the wolf tail they both had clipped to their belts and the wolf ear headbands.”

“I’m so confused,” he sighed. However, right as he was about to ask for more details a sudden hush overtook the room. Looking up he noticed what had caused the reaction. Ignis, Prompto, and his son were stalking over towards them. They all matched and looked quite formidable. However, Noct seemed to be missing. The black suits had matching black shirts and ties to go with. One might take them all for security guards aside from the addition of the animal ears atop their heads. One thing Cor hadn’t mentioned was their eye color. Each had donned a pair of contacts that made their eyes look golden and cat-like.

As they neared, Clarus realized there was a fourth pair of legs hiding behind Ignis. This must be the prince. Waiting patiently as the group finally came to a rest in front of them, Clarus was treated to the reveal. A pale hand with amusingly long pointy black nails slowly crept out from behind Ignis arm. It reached out and pointed straight at him. Then in a move that had Clarus snorting with laughter, Noct curled his fingers and beckoned him closer.

“You’re nuts if you think I’m letting you near me with those daggers,” he laughed.

Noct merely shook his finger and carefully leaned to the side to show his face. The prince’s hair was slicked back and someone had drawn in an exaggerated widow’s peak.

“I see you’re taking your role far more seriously than your father.”

“I shall win,” was all Noct uttered before he hissed and retreated behind his bodyguards again.

With a quick bow, Ignis led the way back out into the party. The advisor was playing his part very well and looked like he’d snap a person in two if they even tried to talk to the prince. Prompto was fighting to hide a smile as they turned to leave. Gladio offered Clarus and eyebrow waggle and a wink before he left. They were having fun it seemed.

“So forgive me for being a little behind on my fantasy lore, why are they all wearing animal ears and tails?” Clarus asked kindly.

“He’s a vampire and he needs his werewolf pack to protect him.”

“Ah, I see. Noct basically thought up the perfect costume, ensuring he doesn’t have to talk with anyone.”

“Pretty much, he’s clever in that way, unlike his old man!” Cor teased as Regis joined them again.

Ignoring Cor’s comment, Regis stared at Noct’s retreating party and tilted his head, “Was that my son?”

“Yep you missed the reveal; he’s a vampire with a coven of werewolves.”

Regis simply smiled and straightened his shoulders slightly, “He takes after me in so many ways.”

Cor groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, “You wish, look it I’m gonna go mingle and get some more votes in my favor. I’m winning this contest tonight, be ready to pay up.”

Regis tried to whack Cor in the shin with his cane, but the marshal was quicker and leaped out of the way. He laughed and casually wandered away, complete with a smug look of satisfaction.

“He’s such a brat sometimes,” Regis huffed.

“He’s only five years younger than you.”

“Shut it; let’s go see if we can convince the judges to ban him or something.”

Cor did not get banned.

Clarus had the joy of watching his friend claim a very special award, the citadels’ sexiest costume. Apparently, the panel of judges was also distracted by Cor’s exposed right side and six-pack. The few other contestants in that category didn’t stand a chance. No manner of makeup could fake muscles or a square jawline.

Regis didn’t have to pout for long though when his son won the night's overall best costume design. The king was proud of his son and his friends. They’d banded together to create a memorable look. Noct stayed in character when he accepted his award and tried to bite one of the presenters. Gladio sprang into action and held him back. The room erupted in laughter and cheers.

Suddenly thankful they could all enjoy moments like this together; Clarus smiled and looked over to his friend and King. Regis must have had a similar reaction as he returned a warm smile of his own and a small nod.

The rest of the night was a blur; Cor had come playfully demanding his money. Regis denied him, but Clarus knew he’d pay up in the morning. His liege kept trying to accuse Cor of cheating since he was only wearing half a costume. The marshal would then wiggle his award in front of Regis’ face as a rebuttal.

The music soon turned up loud enough that they couldn’t talk anymore. Opting to retreat to the far corner of the room the three friends sat and relaxed. They spend the remainder of the evening commenting on the costumes and the terrible music.

The End.

AO3 link is posted in the comments.

#ffxv #fanfic #cor leonis #the immortal #the marshal

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ardynzunia · 3 years

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"Now, what kind of mischief has a little strawberry like you cause this time, hmm?"

Ardyn smiled wide at the nickname and dropped his backpack by the door before running up to hop onto the couch with his father. He cuddled close and got comfortable before answering the question.

"I don't always cause mischief!" He said with a smile. "But I did have fun! Me and Iris hung out today at Uncle Clarus' place."

He didn't mention it, but they'd found a kitten just outside as well, and Ardyn had healed it of a injured tail. It had been more hurt than either of them realized so he felt pretty tired now, but Uncle Clarus had been proud enough that he'd let them keep it in the house til they could find it a home. It was all a win in his book.

#rp #answers #regis tag #thelastkingoflight #brotherhood era

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Hey didnt you have Mors wife being called Vita or something? (Death and Life, pretty symbolic) so I was wondering—what if Mors died instead of the wife? Wait when did the wife die and how??? ???

Actually I think it was @a-world-in-grey who named her Vita? It was one of the mutuals who comes and screeches at me over my ideas at any rate, and I gleefully adopted the name because *rainbow hands* symbolism.

Also no one knows anything about Mors wife in canon? Other than that he had to have had one because Regis is a legitimate heir and since we never SEE her in any canon material it’s safe to assume she’s dead. So officially she could have died of ... anything really, but in Forged and Fury verse (and then later in my other AUs for the sake of simplicity) Vita was killed by assassins when Regis was young, about 11 I think. After that, Mors because very cold and distant to his son and kinda went around the bend in his “greater good” policies without his wife to remind him that Compassion Is A Thing.

And honestly a Mors Dies/Vita Lives AU would be FASCINATING. Like whooo.

-Vita would become Queen Regent because Regis is a kid, but with the king dead the Wall has fallen completely, so then the AU would branch in one of several directions

-Branch A: Vita tries to keep the kingdom standing until Regis is old enough to survive putting on the Ring/be king but Niflheim steadily gobbles it up and then we devolve into a Rebel Kingdom kinda AU or even a straight up Kingdom is Fallen/Lost Prince AU where Vita flees Insomnia with Regis and Clarus and Weskham on the eve of Insomnia falling to Niflheim, and the Chocobos 1.0 would later go on a road trip to win the kingdom back and probably pick up a thoroughly Feral Bby Hunter Cor along the way.

-Branch B: Regis is forced by the council/nobles/etc to put on the Ring when he’s a CHILD which almost kills him but then the Kings of Lucii pull their collective heads out of their butts long enough to realize hold up. This is a CHILD. Who let you put on the ring? And then the kings decide this is Intolerable and honestly you probably now have Ghost Somnus (because the collective opinion of the Lucii is Somnus Broke It, Somnus Fixes It) hanging around holding up the Wall by himself and advising a very weirded out Queen Vita. His anchor to reality would be Regis wearing the Ring, so Somnus wouldn’t be able to go very far from Regis’s side. There would be a lot of fluff/angst and Regis would grow up knowing exactly who the Accursed was, what had really happened, and what the Prophecy entails because Somnus has had 2k years to Regret his life choices.

-Branch C (my personal fav that is already becoming a new AU I can feel it): Similar to Branch B but instead of Regis it’s VITA who puts on the Ring. Who begs the Lucii for the strength to protect her kingdom and her son. It is Vita who stands unflinching before the memory of the Old Kings as they demand of her “Who are you, who is not of royal blood, to claim our power” and answers “I am a mother, and I seek to protect my son”. In this AU, it is the Rogue who intercedes on Vita’s behalf, who steps out from amid the circle and says “Very well, Queen Mother, my strength you may have until the time you give the Ring to your son”.

-And there is a Loophole there. A Loophole Vita spots and exploits for all it’s worth, clinging stubbornly to life and the Wall, no giving the Ring up to her son even when he is old enough to survive it, even when he is old enough to become a king. She clings to the throne, not out of a desire for power but a desire to protect her child from the agony of the Ring that she has borne for years now.

-In her sleep, the Founder comes to her, watches her. He sees what the Rogue saw and in her dreams, he speaks.

-Ardyn Lucis Caelum jolts awake from his centuries long haze of pain and despair when the door to his tomb is cracked open. He watches with bleary, disbelieving eyes as the dust parts for a woman in silk, bearing a small crown and a Ring that pulses with LC magic even though he can already tell she is not of that line. She rests a gentle, tender hand on his cheek and a part of him sobs at human contact for the first time in 2 thousand years.

-“Who...?” He manages to rasp as the woman’s soldiers gently remove the chains in his skin and place him on a stretcher, as the Shield following on her heels even though she is not of the blood gently crushes some kind of magical medicine (an Elixir, but I HC that those didn’t exist in Ardyn’s time) against his skin.

-The woman takes his hand in hers, unflinching from the Scourge beneath his skin and walks beside the stretcher down to the boat of metal and muted thunder that will take them across the waves back to Lucis, “My name is Vita,” she answers softly, “and I have come to take you home.”

-And maybe she is being purely selfish, to hear to the Accursed’s story and free him, bring him home and treat him with medicine as best she can, to call the Oracle and negotiate for the young Princess Sylva to come and stay in Insomnia to treat a “long-term case of critical importance”. Perhaps it is purely selfish to want an adult Lucis Caelum in the Citadel who is not her son, because even with the Rogue and the Founder easing the burden of the Ring as best they could, she is dying a slow, painful death and she has already decided she will defy the Six themselves if that is what it takes to keep her son from feeling this. From living this slow process of dying and withering away. Perhaps she is selfish.

-When she says as much to Ardyn, completely up front with him on the situation and her motivations, he looks at her with something like rueful respect in his eyes. “My dear,” he murmurs as he takes her hand in his, ever desperate for human contact even months after being freed, “you are a mother. If this is selfishness, then I wish every child had a mother as selfish as you.”

#Secret Engima Rambles #Selfish as a Mother verse #oh look new au #queen vita #vita (OC)#vita lucis caelum #regis's mom #regis lucis caelum

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a-world-in-grey · 4 years

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Sunshine Never Stops au hcs- part 3

part 1 part 2

(for fuck’s sake whERE IS ALL THIS COMING FROM)

-Nyx is in Insomnia when he hears the first reports. Of the base over in Cleigne lighting up like so many Founder’s Day fireworks. Of the fire that burned white, reducing even the stone to charred remains.

-Then the reports from the small team sent to investigate. How every MT and human soldier in the base was found dead; shot, stabbed, beheaded, crushed like tin cans-

-And Caligo Ullder’s head, spiked on an MT’s spear, SCOURGE-SPREADER and BUTCHER written in ash below the late Colonel’s head.

-There are no other clues, leaving the Kingsglaive with nothing but a new opening to push through and the knowledge that someone is very, very angry.

-As angry as Sola is, she doesn’t go on a one-woman war against Niflheim. The three of them have families in Niflheim, and they only have to get caught once. So instead they return to hunting daemons and clearing out the Scourge in Lucis’ outlands.

-Sola stumbles across the first of the Menaces. She knows of three, the knowledge gifted to her by the Oracle years ago when she pulled too deep on the Crystal’s magic. But there could be others, and after she opens the Solheim doors sealing the first daemon (thank you Ifrit of Fire and Knowledge) and kills it with extreme prejudice, Sola, Ravus, and Loqi hunt down the only people who might know how many Menaces there are.

-Ezma Auburnbrie eventually coughs up the locations of the other Menaces, but it takes Sola revealing Ifrit’s Blessing, revealing gold eyes once blue and the golden markings where she held the Holy Fire.

-Sola, Ravus, and Loqi proceed to plan a daemon-killing roadtrip, making detours for other Hunts because the Menaces aren’t going anywhere. Sola enjoys the irony of it - twenty years old and she’s going on a road trip just like Papa did. She wonders if she’ll meet someone like Papa met Mama.

-Sola quickly learns that anything with sleeves longer than her elbows will quickly burn to ash when she uses Ifrit’s Blessing. Thank the Six for the glaive Uncle Ardyn forged her, because it’s survived everything Sola’s put it through. (Including when she had to wedge it between the jaws of a Manxom to keep it from eating her, turning herself into a human version of the Infernian to roast it alive and disintegrating everything on her but her glaive.)

-(On the other hand, Sola can confirm her Shield definitely has hormones. Poor Loqi couldn’t look at her for days without turning bright red.)

-They meet rookie Hunter Selena Ulric when after accepting a Hunt and coming out to find the woman cheerfully spoiling Abyssus. Loqi groans when Sola immediately takes a liking to the Galahdian woman and Selena joins their group.

-Initially only for the next couple Hunts on the way to Lestallum, but Loqi wins the bet with Ravus when in three weeks Selena becomes the third member of Sola’s Retinue and Sola’s Hand. Loqi despairs at having to Braincell for another reckless idiot. Especially because Selena can Braincell but chooses not to. (Ravus stop laughing and help me you bastard-)

-And it’s a good thing that Selena is in on everything, because everything goes to Ifrit’s Pyre when the group takes a Hunt near the Tempering Grounds. The daemons retreat into the Tempering Grounds, and Sola can only scream in horror when Loqi is sent flying by a blow - straight into Gilgamesh’s territory.

-Sola, Selena, and Ravus bulldoze their way through the Trials, and arrive just in time to stop Gilgamesh from taking Loqi’s head off. They then proceed to murder Gilgamesh and Sola sets his remains on fire, just to make sure he never touches any of hers ever again.

-Loqi struck the killing blow, so he gets Genji as a trophy. Loqi is starry-eyed for a week before he decides to send it to Cor as a gift. Sola falls off her chair laughing and Ravus tells Loqi that he’s a little shit.

-(They do it anyway. Sola even makes a postcard that they all sign.)

-The spit-take Cor does when he opens it is legendary. When they get done hyperventilating, Regis and Clarus have no sympathy for Cor, nOW YOU KNOW HOW WE FELT-

-And in between contacting Nyx, Sylva, and Luna (Who did not know what their relatives were getting up to, what do yOU MEAN THEY WENT AND FOUGHT GILGAMESH-) Regis and Cor finally put together the pieces and realize that if Sola’s companions really are Ravus and Loqi, that means Sola’s also Alata Mederi, and the ‘Uncle’ she’s been referring to for the past fifteen years is Niflheim’s High Chancellor.

Regis proceeds to sit on Cor with Clarus’s help, because if Regis doesn’t get to run off to Niflheim and murder the High Chancellor, NEITHER DOES COR.

So busy with Cor, none of them think to keep an eye on Aulea.

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ragewerthers · 4 years

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Just Resting My Eyes

Summary: When Ignis starts to run himself a little ragged, his friends decide to step in and make sure he looks after himself. And they will turn King and Country against him if they have to!

A/n: Hello there! This is another wonderful F3S prompto from my friend @bgn846 that she gave me all the way back in April!!! I can't believe how long it's taken me to write it, but I have been wanting to get this all polished up and ready for MONTHS!

The prompt was: "Stolen naps and getting discovered. Falling asleep in places like the office, the backseat of the car, the tub, the kitchen table. Etc. Who finds who and what do they do? Tease, kiss, hug, carry to someplace comfier?"

I hope that you enjoy it, my friend!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599638

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 2164

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“Do you think he’s been tranquilized?!”

“There’s no way someone could tranquilize Iggy, Prom. Er… right, Gladio?”

“No. Though he is lookin’ a little pale.”

The soft touch of someone’s warm hand against his brow mixed with the voices slowly started to bring Ignis out of his stupor.

Where was he?

Why was it so dark?

Why did his cheek and back ache like they were?

Slowly, rational thought began to come back to the forefront of the Adviser’s mind.

The last thing he remembered doing was coming back from a four hour meeting with some of the Council. It was a meeting in preparation of another meeting and if that wasn’t the most tedious thing, he had to write up the minutes of the meeting about a meeting.

Apparently, while in the process of doing so he had managed to nod off at his desk, his cheek firmly pressed into the keys of his laptop and his back hunched over rather uncomfortable.

“M’fine…,” he grumbled, voice hoarse as he tiredly tried to swat at the hand on his forehead, regardless of how nice it felt.

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Niflheim,” Gladio countered, though Ignis could hear the smirk in his voice.

Blinking one tired eye open he was proven right about that smirk, though perhaps it was a trick of the light that made him see a bit of worry in those amber eyes as well.

Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, Ignis sat up from his ill timed nap place, his back crackling in ways that no 19 year olds back should.

“Oh my god, grandpa, what is happening to you?” he heard Noct ask as he finally got himself situated, only to hear a small ‘oof’ follow shortly after. Looking up he saw Gladio’s hand hovering over the young Prince’s head from a well placed smack and Prompto’s elbow digging into his side. Both had disapproving looks on their faces and honestly, Ignis did appreciate the gesture on his part.

“I think what his majesty is trying to say is… are you alright, Iggy?” Gladio asked, turning to look back at his friend. This time there was no mistaking the worry etched over his features and Ignis offered up a tired smile.

“I’m fine, Gladio. Truly. A busy week has merely caught up with me. I was just… resting my eyes,” he said, though his statement lost its effect as he had to cover his mouth to smother a jaw cracking yawn.

“Dude, you were snoring so loud we could hear you from the hall. We thought a garula had gotten into your office!” Prompto offered up and this time Ignis felt his cheeks flush up.

“And that is the most color I’ve seen on your face in awhile,” Gladio pointed out as well, crossing his arms over his chest. “Listen. I know we pester you about this about once a week, but you need to take some time for yourself. What would you do if you walked in on Noct sleeping in the middle of… the… ya know what, bad example.”

“Hey!”

Ignis bit his lower lip to stifle a chuckle, causing the other three to turn and look at him.

“I appreciate your concern, but I promise I’m doing just fine. I can look after myself,” he offered, standing up from his desk and closing his laptop. “But… judging by you three being here, I assume you needed me for something?”

“Tweedle dee and Tweedle Prom here wanted to head over to the arcade and I was going to escort them. But… I wanted to check in with you first and make sure his Majesty wasn’t trying to skive off of anything first.”

Ignis smiled at that and shook his head. “No. If memory serves Noct finished up his English essay last night and I was going to revise it this evening. I see no harm in them going out for a few hours.”

“Oh my god, I’m not seven! It literally sounds like parents setting up a playdate for me!” Noct grumbled, causing Prompto to giggle beside him despite his best efforts.

“Well if you behaved like a good child your mother and I wouldn’t have to do this,” Gladio teased causing Prompto to laugh harder as Ignis rolled his eyes fondly.

“You all are ridiculous. But you better get going. I do hope you’ll be back at a reasonable time, however. I’m making anak steak kebabs this evening,” Ignis said as he began pulling together his notes into a folder to take with him.

“There is absolutely no way I’m missing out on that. You can bet I’ll have the kids back in time,” Gladio said lightly before turning to Noct and Prompto. “Gods help you if we miss dinner,” he warned, already starting to herd them out the door.

Ignis chuckled as he watched the trio leaving. If setting a time rarely kept them on track, then using Gladio’s appetite as an alarm usually worked. Before long he had all of his papers and his laptop squared away in his carry case and was heading to the Prince’s apartment to start on his evening tasks.

He’d gotten in a nice little cat nap so hopefully he’d be able to have a productive rest of the evening.

-----------------------------

“I’m such an idiot!”

“Dude, no you’re not! Noct tell him!”

“No because we were both idiots!”

What was going on?

Where… OH NO!

Ignis sat up so fast he almost sent himself flying backwards in the kitchen chair he’d been seated in. The only thing saving him from a freefall backwards being Gladio’s quick reflexes and impressive strength.

The Shield in training and reached out in time to brace the back of the chair, causing Ignis to remain half tipped back and looking up at the upside down face of his friend.

“... uh… hello…,” Ignis said sheepishly, his head feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden shift in perspective. “If you would be so kind as to set me down I think I may have to go check on our dinner.”

“What dinner? There’s a package of thawed anak steaks on the counter and a couple peppers on the cutting board. Dinner never happened, Specs,” Noct tried to explain carefully, watching his friend with far more concern than Ignis wanted to see on his face. Though honestly, hearing that he hadn’t even started on their meal made guilt start bubbling up in his chest.

“I… I’m sorry. I was just resting my eyes for a mo-...,” The sudden jolt of being tipped back farther had Ignis flailing slightly as a rather unbecoming yelp escaped him. Soon he was refocused on Gladio and the look the man was giving him was thunderous.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Ignis. Not for being exhausted. And that’s what this is. Exhaustion. It’s not just resting your eyes,” Gladio stated, slowly lowering Ignis back to the floor before stepping to the side. He kept his eyes leveled with the Adviser who, for once, didn’t have a rebuttal ready on the tip of his tongue. Without anything forthcoming, Gladio took it as a sign to continue. “We’re worried about you, Ignis. I knew I shouldn’t have just let this go back at your office. You need to take a break and get some rest.”

“But…,”

“No. No buts, Specs,” Noct spoke up, looking just as angry as Gladio and doing a fine job of looking the part of a future monarch. “I’m ordering you to take time off. I swear I’ll get my Dad involved if I have to.”

“And I’ll get my Dad to step in as well,” Gladio said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest and standing up taller.

“Yeah! And… um…,” Prompto paused a moment, trying to figure out his own master stroke before a smug smile finally appeared. “Sure would be a shame if Cor found out that you were overworking yourself like this. Remember how he almost had that Councilman’s head when the dick made those comments about you? How do you think he’ll react knowing that you’re the one running yourself ragged?”

Ignis paused as he heard that, looking between the three of them. Each one with an absolute look of determination in their eyes.

“So… you three are willing to bother the three most important figureheads of Insomnia against me to make sure I get some rest?” Ignis asked quietly, watching as they all nodded in unison.

“Think about that, Ignis. We are literally planning on turning a King, a Shield and a Marshal on you to make sure you sleep. And what’s more… is that you know they’ll make sure you do,” Gladio said simply, this time allowing a small smile to appear. “And I mean… you’re due for a vacation, right? We could all go camping for the weekend. Get you out of the Citadel just to do nothing. You deserve it.”

There really did seem to be no way of getting out of this and honestly, the last thing he wanted to do was to pull King Regis, Clarus and Cor into this so with a little shake of his head he finally relented.

“Alright. You three win,” he offered, giving them a tired smile and watching as the trio relaxed in front of him. “But I swear if this really is an easy going camping trip then that means I don’t have to gut the fish or do the dishes, correct? I’ll happily cook, but I’m not doing the manual labor.”

“Nah. That’s what we’ve got Dad for,” Prompto teased, giving Gladio a nudge before finding himself in a headlock, letting out a surprised squeak and flailing against the man's side.

“That’s it… you’re on fish cleaning duty,” Gladio growled playfully, ruffling Prompto’s hair and making him sputter.

Ignis had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at the ridiculous sight.

Perhaps he really could do with a nice little vacation. A chance to catch up on some nothingness and just… take a break?

-----------------------------

“I mean… we did say that he should use the time to catch up on rest. Right, guys?”

“Well.. yeah, but I was betting it would be reading in the shade or… I don’t know… reading not in the shade.”

“Shh… if you two don’t keep it down you’ll wake him up,” Gladio whispered as they all took in the sight before them.

After their mini intervention at Noct’s apartment it had been agreed that they would all go on a small camping trip to get out of the Citadel. Get Ignis away from the hustle and bustle and let him get a chance to relax.

And to be fair everything had been going as planned. They’d made it to the haven in good time and Gladio had already set up the tent while Noct and Prompto scouted out the best places to go fishing and to get firewood.

Ignis had mentioned leaving his new book in the backseat of the car and they hadn’t thought anything of it.

Until fifteen minutes had passed and no Adviser had returned.

Fearing foul play they had all taken off in a mad dash back to the car only to come across something they had all become far too accustomed to as of late.

Sprawled out in the backseat of the car, hand loosely holding onto the missing book, mouth slightly agape and glasses askew, Ignis was out like a light. The soft snoring coming from the young Adviser was a testament that he was definitely not disturbed by their arrival and that spoke volumes of just how tired he had been.

Click.

“You know that when he finds out you took a picture of him like that you’re a dead man, right?” Noct asked Prompto, the blond only chuckling and looking at the picture on his camera.

“What? He looks so peaceful right now! I couldn’t help myself. When do we get to see a peaceful, Iggy? Never!”

“If you two are done maybe you could help me?” Gladio said, arms already full of the sleeping Adviser who, even after being shifted around, still slept on completely oblivious to the world around him. Though Gladio did have to fight a blush when the man nuzzled against his chest slightly.

“Oh my gods, please let me take another picture? Please! He’s literally being adorable right now and that’s even more rare than a peaceful Iggy!” Prompto asked even as they all began to make their way back to the tent.

“Heck, it’s even more rare then a sleeping Ignis,” Noct teased, making Gladio chuckle.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Gladio said lightly, looking down at Ignis as the poor guy slept on, completely unawares of their conversation. Gods he needed this and Gladio was more than ready to make sure that he got to enjoy as much rest as he needed.

“He’s just... resting his eyes.”

#ffxv #my fics #non tickles #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #fluff #f3s #I love these boys

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sylleblosscm · 2 years

Text

This is how Luna’s Insomnia verse would go, no I won’t be taking criticism at this time:

Luna: Your Majesty, I got into a fight today. Regis: You what? Oh, my little flower, are you okay? Did they hurt you? Luna: No, I’m fi- Regis: I’m going to send the Glaive with you to school so this never happens again. Do you want anything? A lollipop? A new pet chocobo? Ssh, don’t worry, nobody will ever lay a hand on you if I have something to say about it.

vs:

Luna: Papa, I got into a fight today. Clarus: Did you win? Luna: Yes. Clarus: Good girl.

#( i was rewatching kg the other day and regis' protectiveness over luna has me feral actually )#shitpost;#oldamicitia #⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ -- i was just in the middle of an inner monologue / ooc

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jazzybot4 · 5 years

Note

Prompt: When Clarus realized they needed a Lot More Shields for Regis's various offspring.

“It’s traditional!” one of the Councilors hissed, and Clarus had to keep his face still, stop himself from pinching the bridge of his nose. “You completely miss the point, Councilor Orestes.” he said, polite and firm. “The Shields position is for the *crown prince*. In the last five hundred years there has been only one child in the Royal Line! We know now why that is, but you’ve got to understand! Regis has six spouses, all of whom are bearing children. My wife absolutely should not be sacrificed, her health or sanity on this. We will maintain a bloodline for the core of the Crowns children, and after that is up to Delphinium to choose to have more children. I am not about to bow to your false claims of tradition.” he said, voice firm. Behind him. Regis shuffled his papers, clearly letting Clarus win this battle. “You also forget that you are not the King, and so have no authority to give me orders.” Delphinium said from her place on the council table. “you shall absolutely not have a say in our family, and you shall absolutely fuck right out of our marriage. I’m sick of all of you thinking that I am some sort of trophy and not a Lord in my own right.” “Dear, do you want them dead?” Clarus asked his wife, knowing that she had the power to order it. She after all, held the oldest, most powerful seat on the Council that was not the Shields chair, or the Kings. “No, love. I’d hate to find someone to replace them, to understand their petty little games.” she said, eyes narrowed. “But they shall understand that should they try to exert force on myself as your wife, they will absolutely taste *my* blade.” Gods all, Clarus loved his wife. Later that night, she did whisper her want to have a bunch of children in his ear, and he resolved to give her everything she ever would want. Children, after all, were a delightful request to fullfil.

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thechocoboos · 6 years

Note

OMG I looooved your Cor one-shot! I was wondering if you could do another one-shot with some romantic playful sparring? Thanks!

Hey, thanks so much for the request!!! :D I enjoyed this one a lot, and it always makes me ridiculously happy to get Cor requests! I hope you enjoy this one!

Warnings: noneGenre: fluffWords: 1313Pairing: Cor/Reader

It had come as a surprise when you and Cor started dating each other. No one really expected Cor to ever settle down; he had always been so engrossed with his duties that dating seemed out of the question.

That was when you came in. You had admittedly been curious about him for a couple months–although it took quite a lot of time to work up the nerve to ask him out. He had been surprised, of course, however, he agreed.

It only took that one date for Cor to gain an interest in you, and after a few more dates, the two of you were in a serious relationship. No one really knew the two of you were together, even after the strangely tender moments where you both seemed to be lost in each other’s eyes.

One day, however, after a small, playful argument, the two of you got into a disagreement. He had offhandedly mentioned that as of late, the only people who could beat him in a sparring match were Regis and Clarus. Of course, you had to challenge his statement–to which he laughed.

“I’m warning you, Leonis,” You crossed your arms with a smile on your face, “I’m far deadlier than I look.”

There was an amused twinkle in his bright eyes, “Oh, really?”

“Really.” The two of you had entirely stopped walking, and you took a daring step forward, your chests nearly touching.

Not an hour later, you were in the training gym, dressed in simple workout gear with determination burning in your eyes as you eyed Cor from across the mat.

Cor laid out the rules: no weapons, no dangerous moves, and whoever delivers the “killing blow” was the winner. They were simple rules, and you couldn’t help but tease.

“No weapons? Where’s the fun in that?”

Cor snorted, if only to humor you. In truth, he expected to beat you with ease. He was planning to go easy on you if only to give you a chance. Little did he know, however, that you had done far more training in your life than he anticipated.

“On the count of three! One… Two… Three!”

Cor launched forward–much faster than you had thought he would. You flung yourself to the side–grateful that speed was more your style.

Cor’s eyes met yours, and the confident smirk on his face had your determination shooting up. He was certain he was going to win–you could only hope that his confidence made him clumsy.

You ran right at him. Cor steeled himself, ready to catch you–and he did. One strong hand grasped your shoulder, holding you steady. There was a moment of crackling energy before you flung yourself into motion. You grabbed his arm and threw yourself towards him; his grip loosened for a millisecond.

It was just enough time to dip out of his hold and twist around him. You kicked one foot out from under him and watched him topple over as satisfaction settled in the back of your mind. He caught himself, whipping around to deliver a swift jab in retaliation.

You deflected it, although the power behind his blow knocked you off balance. His blow reminded you of just how strong he was–even when sparring with someone he loved. Still, Cor took your imbalance as his moment and lunged forward.

Rather than deliver a blow, he simply wrapped you in his strong arms, smiling slightly as he caught you from falling. He chuckled, his gaze loving. “I feel like I’m always catching you,” He mumbled, his face close to yours.

It was a touching moment–his warm arms holding you close and your love swelling in your chest. You refused to let it sway you; this was a battle.

Even so, you matched his smile, leaning forward and kissing him with a tender softness that he hadn’t expected. He leaned into the kiss, slowly returning it as his arms loosened up. It was a small victory for you. Without warning, you yanked yourself away with an impish grin, hopping out of his stunned hold and preparing to fight once more.

Cor was slightly stunned, his eyes surprised as he looked at you incredulously. The shocked expression melted away after a short moment, replaced by amusement. “I thought I said no weapons?” He asked, his eyes twinkling.

“That was hardly a weapon!”

Adoration flickered across his face, “Your love is always a weapon to me,” He said, his eyes narrowing, “But it won’t work again.”

You didn’t retort that time, only throwing yourself back into the fight. Both sides were quick, although you were quicker. You had both locked yourselves in a heated waltz, and as time went on, you realized that Cor was, in fact, leading the dance.

It was strangely intimate, both of you running out of breath and energy but too proud and invested in each other to give up now. Your gazes were often locked together. Small moments of hesitation and heated, momentary stalemates left you two in a burning, electrifying tension that only made you more out of breath than before.

It was a dance of passion and pride, but someone would give up in the end–and you were determined for it to be Cor.

With a surge of energy, you managed to catch him by surprise, knocking him down to the floor and swiftly straddling him, one sharp jab aimed at his throat. Cor was surprised, his bright blue eyes wider than normal as he gazed at your hand. A small smile crossed his face.

“I win.” You stated, chest heaving. A thin layer of sweat coated your body, but you ignored it as a proud smirk sat on your face.

“You did,” Cor noted, pride seeping into his voice. He couldn’t help but feel proud of you–his girlfriend, who had best him in sparring.

Your posture was starting to sag, fatigue settling into you as you leaned on Cor, his hands resting on your hips. His tired gaze was warm as he admired you, from your beautiful face to your surprising skill. Somedays, he couldn’t help but be entirely aware of how much he loved you, and that day was one of them.

You leaned down to press one last soft kiss against his lips, only to squeak in surprise as he rolled the two of you over with one swift movement, one hand supporting himself and the other gently caressing your cheek as he hovered over you, the small moment a victory of his own.

“Uh… Sir?” A young man’s voice called, catching the attention of you both.

A young trainee was standing at the edge of the mat, his face bright red. Cor was on his feet in an instant, clearing his throat as a small blush grew on his cheeks. He helped you up, his embarrassment evident despite the stoic mask he tried to keep.

“I-I was just wondering if you, uh, were having extra practice today?” The young man glanced to you, his bright red face flushing further, “B-but I understand if you’re uh, busy?” He seemed to be completely lost as to how to address the moment.

Cor paused, glancing at you for a moment, unsure of how to answer. You managed a small smile, “Go ahead, Cor. I’ll see you for dinner tonight, okay?” You whispered to him quietly, standing on your tip-toes to place a light kiss on his cheek before bounding off.

A small, dreamy smile fell across his face as he watched you leave, the love in heart swelling as he seemed to melt before the trainee’s eyes.

“U-Uh, sir?”

Cor’s eyes snapped to the trainee. He cleared his throat, trying to push away his small moment of embarrassment before he straightened his posture and prepared for teaching, unaware of the rumors revolving around his dating life that were already being spread.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #ffxv cor #cor leonis #cor the immortal #i love cor #cor

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angelrider13 · 6 years

Text

Alright, so this is not what’s going to happen in the actual fic (probably - who knows really, I haven’t even gotten to the part where Ardyn comes in yet), but then @hamelin-born said mer!Regis and mer!Clarus and my brain when down that rabbit hole and ran with it. So. Have 3400 words of snippets and a bunch of half-thought out scenes that I pieced together to make a sort of fic for an AU of an AU that is all hamelin-born’s fault. How very dare you.

(P.S. This isn’t edited at all, but I wrote so many words and I am tired now and I wish to share them.)

May also interest: @sparklecryptid, @theperidotshade, @charlottedabookworm, @starofthemourning

“Tidemother, by the oath I yet keep, I hereby petition you to make good on the favor you once promised me!”

The sound of waves breaking echos in his ears and Nyx sucks in a breath at the rumbling laughter inside his head.

“Storm-caller,” Leviathan greets, and Nyx can almost feel the smile in her voice, “What need have you of me?”

And Nyx remembers her words, from what seems like lifetimes ago, warnings about a threat to his King. And all he can think of is Regis’s life being snuffed out, the Wall crumbling, Insomnia a ruin, and Lady Lunafreya, who is brave and determined even in the face of death, who stands beside him now with questions in her eyes.

“The King,” he says, “He’s in danger. Niflheim set a trap and we walked right into it.”

He feels her pause in the back of his mind. “Oh? And what of the people?”

Nyx is reaching along his bond with the Fulgarian before she’s even finished, a wordless plea. The sky clouds over almost immediately and lighting flashes as thunder rumbles overhead.

“You promised aid against a threat to my King,” he replies, “Leave the people in the hands of your brother.”

Leviathan’s laugh sounds like the rushing tide. “They are very good hands. Very well, storm-child, to your King I will go.”

He feels her retreat from his mind and forces himself to shake of the sudden feeling of emptiness it leaves in his chest. He opens his eyes, sees Lady Lunafreya staring at him.

“We need to move,” he tells her.

She nods and he sees her push back her questions, expression firming. “How long until we can reach the Citadel?”

“Ten minutes. Maybe five if we push.”

“Push,” she demands.

“Five minutes it is.”

Glauca is a terror, monster on the battlefield that they had trouble matching, one that already had royal blood staining his hands. Regis knows that he is next on the list. Years ago, Regis knows that he could have taken him. But now, after years of holding the Wall up, of gifting magic to an army, of his body slowly bowing under the weight of the Crystal, Regis knows he won’t win. Even with Clarus by his side, he knows the best he can do is buy time.

Perhaps if Cor were here - but no. Reigs knows Cor is a formidable warrior and a dear friend and he had him posted to the outskirts of the city for a reason. One of them should make it out of this alive and Noctis (oh, his boy, his son, his light, how he wishes they’d had more time) will need guidance, someone to lean on during his coming trials. Regis just hopes Cor forgives him for forcing him to outlive another King.

His magic is harder to call on than he remembers, his armiger harder still. Glauca is strong as he’s ever been while Regis has only weakened, run down by his own power. He sees Clarus attack from behind, sees Glauca go for his Shield’s throat. He feels dread claw at his chest; for all he knew this was coming, what would happen the moment he let Niflheim within the Wall, he still feels that same cloying, helpless fear because there is nothing he can do to stop this and all he can think is I’m so sorry, Clarus, please -

And then everything stops.

Regis blinks, unsure what he is seeing. There is a woman. A woman with dark hair and tan skin and bright, glowing gold eyes standing between Glauca and Clarus when he is quite certain she wasn’t there before. One of her hands, small and thin and oh so delicate, is on the armored giant’s wrist, halting him.

“That is quite enough of that, kingslayer,” she says, voice echoing through the room, far larger than her small frame. Glauca tries to pull his hand back but the woman’s hold doesn’t so much as twitch. She smiles, showing far too many, inhumanly pointed, teeth. “Shield, to your King.”

Clarus starts at the attention, but is quick to pick up his sword and return to his side.

“Do you know her?” his friend asks in a hushed voice, eyes never straying from her and the general even as he takes his place by Regis’s side once more.

“No,” he answers, just as silent, even as something tugs at the back of his mind, something familiar about the way her voice is more, something he’s heard before but can’t quite remember where.

Glauca raises his blade, ready to strike the woman down, but she catches that too. The blade slices into her palm as she catches it, but she holds fast, smile never wavering, and in a motion too quick for Regis to follow, she flings the sword to one side of the room and the fearsome general to the other. He lands with a loud crash and there is a moment of stunned silence.

“Who are you?” Glauca demands as he pulls himself to his feet.

“I am the Unbound. I am Change, Tragedy, and Hope. I am Mother to the Drowned, the Broken, the Forgotten. I am She who controls the Tide,” she says, “You move against the storm-caller’s King.”

It is not a question. And the way she plants herself between them and the general makes her stance on the matter quite clear.

“Come, little changeling,” she calls, arms spread wide.

General Glauca charges.

Nyx rushes into the signing room, Lady Lunafreya hot on his heels, only to pause at the scene that greets him. The room is a complete shambles, bodies strewn about, MTs crumpled on the ground, windows shattered, pillars knocked over. It looks like a hurricane hit the room.

General Glauca is locked in combat with a woman he’s never seen before, but she meets him blow for blow, always keeping herself between the metal monster and the King.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Lunafreya calls as she rushes over to them, and Nyx shadows her across the room, kukri in hand.

“Lunafreya,” Regis breathes, relief in his eyes, “Sir Ulric. It is good to see you safe.”

“Relatively speaking,” Nyx quips. Lord Amicitia scoffs and Nyx shoots him a grin. “We need to move, Your Majesty.”

The King nods and leads them to an elevator hidden from view as Nyx and Lord Amicitia keep watch on the battle.

“I don’t suppose you know her?” the Shield asks.

“Nope,” he answers even as he sends a question down his bond with Ramuh. He feels the Old Man’s amusement in answer and that’s really all the explanation he needs. Galahd had been home to the Seaborne and their Mother was well known - the shapeshifting isn’t a surprise. “But I think it’s safe to say she’s with us on this one.”

Thalassa walks through the Citadel, blood coating her arms, dripping from her fingers. Niflheim made their weapon well, but Glauca, for all his strength, had grown too comfortable with his might. She’d ripped away his armor, revealing the mortal man beneath. She made sure to look him in the eyes as her hands closed around his heart.

Perhaps your next life will be kinder, change-child.

The years have not been kind to the Crystal. Humanity has always praised it for its bright light and this generation is no different. But if they could have seen the Crystal when it had first been stolen, when it was new to humanity - Thalassa wonders if they would still claim such a thing. To her eyes, the Crystal is dim, a shadow of what it once was, it’s light waning after so long away from its proper home. Bahamut’s chains have hurt the Crystal just as much as humanity, she can see them, feel the way the Draconian’s presence lingers in the room. He visits here often, resides in Eos’s very Heart as if he owns it. She stomach turns at the thought of such an invasion and Bahamut should count himself luck that he has picked this moment to be elsewhere.

She presses bloodied hands to the Crystal’s surface and it pulses weakly at her touch.

“Soon, Dawn Mother,” she promises, “Soon this will end.”

“Well isn’t this a surprise.”

Thalassa feels a smile bloom across her face as she turns. “Ardyn.”

He tips his hat to her and gives her a shallow bow as he comes up to stand beside her. “Thalassa. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you so far inland?”

She clicks her tongue. “If I told you that would spoil the fun, my heart.”

Her Chosen smirks at her. “Not even a hint for your favorite son, mother dearest?”

Thalassa laughs. “I’ve missed you, dear one,” she coos, leaning into his space. In this form, she is smaller than him, has to push up on her toes to press her cheek to his.

He leans into her, turns his face into her hair and she takes a moment to just breathe him in. It has been far longer than she would have liked since she last saw him, but she understands his distance. She is the sea, ever-changing, ever-shifting. He has been frozen in time by the Draconian’s curse, still and stagnant as the world passes him by. She remembers his face when Maren passed and he still lived, when Eran aged and he did not. She will never force him to stay, to do anything, when it hurts him so.

“Not as bright as it once was,” Ardyn says when she pulls back, his expression carefully blank as he looks at the Crystal, old shadows in his eyes.

“No,” she agrees, “Eos suffers from the sword-master’s folly. Her Heart grows weaker, she is fading slowly. The time of the Prophecy is upon us.”

“And the King of Kings shall lead all into the Dawn light,” her Chosen drawls, his bitterness well hidden to all but her.

“He is a child. Your brother was a fool who signed away his family’s freedom without realizing what he was doing.”

Ardyn merely hums.

“Do you pity him?”

“Do I pity a boy that was born to die for the arrogance of self-made gods?”

He lets the question hang and Thalassa does not push. Her Chosen is angry about many things - has the right to be angry - and not all of them are the same things that make rage burn in her blood. But he is also tired down to his bones and she aches to see the exhaustion in eyes every time they see each other.

“Are you here to claim Eos’s Heart for the Emperor?”

Ardyn sighs. “Iedolas wishes to see his prize,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “And good Chancellor that I am, I am here to see it done.”

She frowns. “I dislike his presumed ownership of you. You are mine. You are of the sea and no one can chain you.”

“Fear not, my dear, he’s only a means to an end. The Draconian and the Glacian were quite insistent on an adversary for their Crystal Kings, after all, and Niflheim’s Emperors of late have been highly susceptible to their own greed.” Her Chosen sneers as he speaks, gold eyes flashing.

“Dragons and sprites are meddlesome creatures,” she says, “It would be shame if something were to happen to the Emperor’s prize.”

Ardyn flashes her an amused smile. “Getting lost at sea, perhaps?”

When Thalassa grins at him, it’s all teeth.

It takes two days for the skies to clear.

Insomnia is behind them, a smoking ruin, the Wall long fallen, the people scattered. Clarus places a hand on his shoulder when he looks back again. Regis forces himself to face forward and steels himself - he can’t look back. There’s nothing he can do. Insomina has fallen. He’d known it would fall from the moment the treaty was offered and yet the knowledge is nothing compared to the reality.

Lunafreya has yet to let go of his hand. Her eyes are too understanding for one so young, but she was there when Fenestala Manor burned. She too, knows the burden of having failed the people.

“We need a plan,” Clarus says.

Sir Ulric rolls his shoulders, exhaustion clearly weighing him down. “I’m open to suggestions,” he says wearily.

“We should make for the Disc of Cauthess,” Lunafreya says, “Noctis will need the Covenants and the Archaean’s resting place is the closest.”

Sir Ulric looks at her with an expression Regis can’t quite decipher - something between disbelief and resignation if he has to guess. “You may want to rethink that, Princess,” he says, nodding to the side.

Regis turns and sucks in a surprised breath at the sight of the woman that had saved him and Clarus crouched upon the rocks. There is blood on her hands and splattered across her face and she seems indifferent to that fact. Her glowing eyes focus in on Sir Ulric.

“Storm-child,” she greets.

Regis blinks, mind flashing back to her words to Glauca, and turns to Sir Ulric.

The Glaive nods. “Tidemother,” he returns.

Lunafreya sucks in a startled breath next to him and he feels Clarus go tense in surprise. His own shock making his mind go blank for a moment. There are stories passed down by his family line, warnings really. It is well known by those with Lucis Caelum blood that Leviathan has no love for their line. And yet she came to his aid, apparently at nothing more than the request of Sir Ulric.

Regis freezes when bright gold eyes turn to him.

“Crystal King,” she says.

He bows his head. “Leviathan.”

She stands, unfolding her body with an eerie grace, and climbs down the stone face with ease. Lunafreya steps forward as she approaches them, hands folded neatly before her, back straight and head held high even as she bows before the Astral.

“Tidemother,” she says, “Goddess of the Seas, I thank you for your aid. I am Lunafre-”

“I know who you are, little Oracle,” Leviathan cuts in, eying the young woman with cool disinterest, “And I know what you seek. My answer is no.”

And the Leviathan turns away, a complete dismissal even as Lunafreya goes rigid.

“The time of the Draconian’s Prophecy is upon us, Crystal King. You know what this means.”

Regis does. He’s known for a long time what it’s meant. He closes his eyes, allows himself a brief moment to grieve, to remember, to regret, before he forces it all back behind crystal walls. Her removes the Ring from his finger, takes Lunafreya’s hand and gentle places it in her palm. She blinks as he closes her fingers around it.

“What?” she asks softly, before understanding lights in her eyes, quickly followed by alarm, “Your Majesty, no!”

He smiles at her, soft and sad, aching for the burden she carries. She’s young, far too young, to hold such a weight. And yet she’s carried it with grace and poise of one far beyond her years. “We all have our roles to play, my dear. This one is mine. My only wish is for you and Noctis to be happy,” he says, even though he knows that whatever happiness they achieve will fleeting at best.

“Sir Ulric,” he says, turning to the glaive, “I would ask that you escort Lady Lunafreya on her journey.”

Sir Ulric rests a fist over his heart and bows his head. “As long as she will have me, Your Majesty, she will have my blade.”

Lunafreya makes as if to grab him as he steps past her, but Sir Ulric is quick to catch her hand and pull her back. She goes slack in his grip and Regis wishes he could do something to erase the horrified resignation in her eyes.

“I am ready,” he says, meeting the Tidemother’s eyes.

She cocks her head to the side, observing him. “So quick you are, to surrender to your fate,” she says, gaze flickering over to something behind him.

Before he can turn, he feels a hand land on his shoulder and knows without looking who it belongs to.

“Clarus,” he begins.

“I am your Shield, your brother. Where you go, I go,” he says firmly, squeezing his shoulder in understanding of all that is left unsaid. The kids will be fine; they have each other. I will not leave you.

Leviathan laughs, the sound rough and wild even though the smile on her face is oddly gentle. “Very well, Shield,” she says.

She pauses for a moment gaze flickering over to the younger two of their group. “Peace, storm-child. We will all meet again soon.”

He only has a moment to catch the flicker of understanding in Sir Ulric’s eyes before the sound of rushing water fills his ears.

Then nothing.

Clarus doesn’t expect to wake up again.

To be honest, he expected to die the moment he and Regis realized what the treaty with Niflheim meant.

And yet here he is, alive and awake and in one piece, with his King standing next to him as they both eye the Astral before them. Her appearance has changed, not to the serpent of lore, but a creature of some kind. She still wears the shape of a woman, but her legs have been replaced by a long, serpentine tail. Her fingers have become claws, her skin is now a blue-gray color and spots scales, her hair sea green.

“What is this?” Regis asks warily, gesturing to there surroundings.

She quirks an amused smile at them from her place in the surf. “A beach, little King.”

Clarus sees his friend physically stop himself from rolling his eyes and steps in before he can say something unadvised to an actual goddess. “Why have you brought us here? We thought...”

“I know what you thought,” she says idly, tail swaying lazily through the shallow waves, “But I never claim I was going to do anything. You assumed.”

Regis’s eyes narrow. “You said the time of the Prophecy was upon us.”

“Bahamut’s Prophecy,” she corrects, “I have nothing to do with that farce.”

Regis blinks, taken aback and Clarus feels similarly bewildered. The Prophecy of the Chosen King has been around for thousands of years, held in faith by generations, and here one of the Astrals sits, calling it a farce.

A Prophecy that decreed the death of his Prince since the time of his birth. Clarus still remembers the haunted look in Regis’s eyes when his son was all of five years old and declared a sacrifice for the good of Eos. Regis learned how to smile again, how to laugh, but that haunted look never really left. He just got better at hiding it.

And now a being that is said to be a proponent of the very thing that means his son’s death is claiming it false.

“Explain,” Regis demands, eyes hard, hands coiled into fists at his side.

Leviathan raises a brow at his tone, but she seems more amused than anything. “So ready to die were you but a moment ago,” she says, “But now there is a tempest in your eyes. Have you changed your mind, little King?”

“The Draconian has long claimed my son as his Chosen King,” his King explains and Clarus can here the storm roiling beneath his words, “And yet you, one of the Six, denounce the very Prophecy you gave us. Which is the truth?”

Her amused smile has fallen, something almost like anger simmering in her eyes and Clarus places a hand on Regis’s elbow, ready to pull him back.

“The sword-master created the Prophecy. He bound the Six to it, but do not make the mistake of thinking that means we all believe it,” she says solemnly, “This Prophecy has taken much from me, Crystal King. I would see the Draconian’s work burn to ash before I would demand the life of your child.”

Clarus sucks in a breath at the declaration and Regis goes completely still.

“The Prophecy is false,” Regis says blankly.

Leviathan tips her head in thought. “In a way. After the Astral War, the world was in ruins. Bahamut was desperate for a solution and in that desperation, he chained the world to an unnecessarily cruel fate. The Prophecy is true. But it does not need to be.”

Clarus narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, “Does the Chosen King need to die to save the world or not?”

“The trap with prophecies,” she says thoughtfully as she moves out of the waves and up on the shore closer to them, “is that they require faith. They come to pass because people have faith that they will. How much faith do you place in the Prophecy?”

“That Prophecy has been a source of hope for thousands of years,” Clarus says slowly, eyeing Regis’s frown.

“That Prophecy told me my son was born to die when he was five years old,” he says flatly, “If there is another way to rid the world of the Starscourge, then I will gladly take it if it meant saving my son.”

“What would you give to change his fate?” Leviathan asks.

“Anything,” Regis answers immediately.

Clarus feels alarm shoot through him. “Regis-”

“That,” the Tidemother cuts in as she curls closer to them, “is a very dangerous answer to give, little one. Anything, you say? What if I demand the lives of your people?”

He sucks in a breath as the bottom of his stomach drops out at the shattered look on Regis’s face. He can see the hesitation, the guilt, because Regis knows the right choice. He knows it. But he is also aware of his own flaws and he loves his son more than anything. He knows the right choice, but he still considers.

“Regis,” Clarus says again, firmly, guilt and grief weighing down on his chest like a cold stone.

“Ah, there it is,” Leviathan murmurs, her voice almost kind, “Love is a fickle thing, selfish as it is selfless, cruel as it is kind. You would burn the world for it, perhaps, or grow a forest in a barren land. Be careful, child, for love that strong is as likely to destroy you as it is to heal you.”

Regis’s shoulders sag, ever so slightly, at her words. “I know.”

She hums, gold eyes glinting in the sun. “You are lucky that I am not as cruel as the sword-master. He was promised anything once and he took everything. The life of your son, the pain and suffering of your line, was a price your Founder was willing to pay for a throne and a crown.” She leans in, tail tightly coiled in the sand. “What would you give, child?”

Regis pauses this time, clearly turning her words over in his head. His King’s eyes flicker to him, the war in them clear. Clarus knows what his friend would give for his child - it is the same he would give for his own children and Clarus can’t begrudge him that. He tilts his head in agreement, in permission, and the tension in Regis’s shoulders eases, a brief, apologetic smile flashing across his face.

“I would give myself, Tidemother,” Regis says softly, firmly, as he turns back to the Astral, “I would give my life, my death, the very breath in my lungs and all the blood in my veins, to give my son a chance to live, to be happy.”

Leviathan pauses, something like surprise passing over her face, before she throws her head back and laughs. “Very well, little King.”

Before either of them can so much as blink, she lunges forward, wrapping Regis up in her arms, and presses her lips to his. Clarus loses himself for a moment in a shocked stupor before he registers the panic in Regis’s eyes, the way his hands are clawing at Leviathan’s skin. Alarm floods him and he tries to move forward, to do something, anything, to stop whatever is happening, only to find he can’t move. He looks down and finds the Tidemother’s tail wrapped firmly around him, keeping him in place.

“Regis!” he cries, trying and failing to pull himself free, heart in his throat as he watches his King’s struggles slowly dies out.

When Leviathan pulls away, Regis is still. His eyes are shu, his body slack, his chest absent of breath. A strangled sound tears itself out of Clarus’s throat as he strains forward, grief threatening to choke him. That’s his KIng, his brother, limp and lifeless in the arms of a goddess. His King, who he failed. His, King, who is dead, while he still breathes. He is the Shield - he was supposed to go first.

Leviathan seems unbothered by the whole affair, nosing along Regis’s jaw, his cheek.

“Breathe,” she whispers against his temple.

And to Clarus’s infinite shock, Regis does. He arches in her hold, eyes snapping open - bright, burning, gold bleeding into his irises as a gurgling sound escapes his lips. He turns in the Astral’s arms, chest heaving, and vomits water onto the sand.

Not a kiss, Clarus thinks with a numb, distant kind of horror, She was drowning him.

He watches as his King changes before his eyes, bone breaking and reforming, scales and claws and teeth growing in where there were none before.

When it is finished, Regis lays gasping in the Tidemother’s arms, looking very much like the creature whose shape she wears. She unwinds her tail and he wastes no time time stumbling forward, sinking to his knees next to them on the sand. Regis blinks up at him, dazed and confused, as Clarus takes his now clawed hand.

“What did you do?” he demands, uncaring if the sea goddess takes offense at his tone.

“He is mine now,” she replies, “As he offered to be.”

“Why?” he asks.

Leviathan shifts so that she can look into Regis’s eyes. “You are the Father of the Chosen King. You are aware of what this means?”

Clarus looks at Regis, sees that haunted gleam that he so hates come to the forefront.

“Yes,” Regis croaks, voice wrecked and shattered and heartbroken.

“The Lucii are souls without mortal shells,” Leviathan explains, “As long as you live, the Ring cannot claim you. As long as may waters shelter you, the Draconian’s Prophecy can’t touch you. As long as you are mine, there will be no need to strike the killing blow against your child.”

Clarus feels like he’s been thrown across the room by Glauca all over again so quickly is the breath knocked from his lungs. He hadn’t known that. Regis had never told him.

Regis goes limp, as if a great weight has been lifted from him and Clarus can’t even imagine what kind of burden carrying around that knowledge around for years was. He tries to think of it, of baring his blade against Gladiolus, against Iris, with the intent to kill.

“Oh, Regis,” he whispers, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Regis barks out a broken laugh and Clarus catches a glimpse of pointed teeth. “What kind of father thinks about having to kill his own son?” he asks, tears building in his eyes.

“The kind with his back against the wall and a god holding his hand to the damned blade!” Clarus snaps, his temper completely breaking under the weight of this last horrific detail.

“Listen to your Shield, little King,” Leviathan says kindly, gently, “He speaks true.”

Regis presses his lips together in a thin line, his only response to her words to tighten his hold on Clarus’s wrist, gold eyes flickering up to look at him before sliding away as if ashamed.

Clarus sighs, bringing his free hand up to squeeze the back of Regis’s neck. His skin is scaled there to, cool to the touch. “None of this is your fault,” he says firmly, “You’re role in it doesn’t change that. You were dealt a bad hand and you have made the most of it. I’m your Shield, Regis. Let me help you shoulder the burden.”

Regis blinks at him, naked surprise plain on his face.

“Oh,” he says softly, breathlessly, watching Clarus with wide eyes.

Clarus is baffled by the surprise. Sincere his words may have been, this is far from the first time he’s said them.

Leviathan laughs. “Your first lesson of the Sea, little love,” she coos, a smile on her lips, “It is possessive and protective in equal measure. It hoards its treasures close, hides them away in its waters. It feels strongly, deeply, and you can no more stop it than you can the Tide.”

“That would explain things,” Regis says, eyes still wide.

“Like?” Clarus asks, brow raised.

“Everything is so much...more now,” Regis explains brow furrowed, “It’s...a bit overwhelming, to be honest.”

“You will adjust,” Leviathan says, running a soothing hand through Regis’s hair, “Let your Shield do his job in the meantime.”

Regis hums thoughtfully, eyes suddenly going sharp and Clarus knows him well enough to brace himself. “He’ll have a hard time of it if I am in the water and he is not.”

Leviathan stills, eyeing his King shrewdly. “Aren’t you a clever little one,” she says, an amused smile pulling at her lips, “Have you a request to make of me, my child?”

Regis doesn’t say anything, but the question is clear in his eyes and Clarus almost rolls his own.

“He does not, my Lady,” he says, “But I do.”

“Oh?”

“You have taken my King into the shelter of your waters. I wish to follow him.”

Leviathan stares at him for a long moment.

“You are a proper Shield,” she says softly, wistfully, eyes distant, “to follow your King so. Very well.”

She leans forward and Clarus tilts his head to meet her kiss.

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wrencatte · 6 years

Text

SO! FFXV/pacific rim au. okay okay....a lot of this will be under cut because I have so so so many things but not enough to write a fic. @yorimei this is for you!

there is no magic, obviously.

the thing that makes Caelums special is that they can drift with literally anyone--some have stronger compatibility, yeah, but it’s always stable.

and Regis is the only known person to drift a jaeger alone

Lucis and Niflheim aren’t at war (there’s a friendly rivalry, but their countries worked together to create the jaegers).

There’s more cities (some places share in game names but are...bigger now. Like Crestholm Channels is now Crestholm City, a coast city in Leide)

(which lemme tell you, this was before I played the game so I had no idea Crestholm was a dungeon...I think id be funny if the shatterdomes were named after dungeons...hmm)

and Lucis is a country that only takes up the Cavaugh continent, Insomnia it’s capital city and the largest city in the world. Leide, Duscae, and Cleigne are their own countries

over the course of x amount of years there are 23 jaegers. 5 Mark 1s. 7 Mark 2s. 4 Mark 3s. 4 Mark 4s. and 3 Mark 5s. (only three characters who pilot them don’t show up in the game: Cloud and Zack (because I couldn't resist, guess which jaeger they pilot) and Stella (who pilots with Pelna).

Mk 1s are: Light Vitalise (piloted by Regis and Clarus, the first jaeger to be made, dropped down, and killed Iseultalon, the sixth kaiju and heading for Insomnia). Dragoon Drain. Omni Just (Weskham and Jared). Cross Specter. and Ace Rogue (Cor and Monica)

only 1 jaeger from the mark 1 generation is still going, it was one of the last ones made, has the most kaiju kills, and it generally a badass (take a guess who that is hahaha...I’m subtle)

when a jaeger goes down it’s usually scrapped to make a new one as that costs less than fixing it, the pilots either are dead or they go with it, but when a Caelum is involved, they go to a new drift.

Mk 2s are: Terra Fury (Ignis/Noctis they go down with 2 kills). Breaker Wave. Tacit Ruin (Cailgo and Loqi). Daemon Fierce. Striker Rampage. Divine Typhoon (Wedge and Biggs). Crow Intercept (Nyx and Libertus).

I honestly can’t remember the status of most of the Mk 2 jaegers when we get into the story timeline (which is around the mk 3/mk 4 area), but I know that Terra Fury (Ignis/Noct) get 2 kills in before it’s ripped apart and scrapped for a Mk 3 (also guess which one) and I know Crow Intercept and Striker Rampage are definitely still going.

Mk 3s are: Gaia Assassin (Ignis and Gladio). Tsunami Tango (Luna and Crow). Buster Recon. and Aster Prophet (Ardyn and Noct).

Aster Prophet goes down on it’s first intercept without ever engaging the kaiju (a Cat III codename Marilith). In fact it goes down without ever moving.

Ardyn is actually Uncle Ardyn Caelum. He’s....different.

(really he thought if he could study how the kaiju worked they could win against these monsters....he just went about it the wrong way and unfortunately it’s twisted him now)

(noct is really their best hope at a lot of things: he’s drift compatible with everyone, quick on his feet, able to adapt scary fast to any kaiju coming out of the ocean. And his dad was one of the first jaeger pilots, the first to kill a kaiju with Clarus. He’s got a lot on his shoulders)

Anyway! Aster Prophet goes down and goes down hard. When the rescue copters get to it Ardyn is gone and Noctis is comatose (I have no idea where Ardyn went honestly)

This hits a lot of people hard.

Noct is like....a lot of people’s mascot? His dad is the Marshal of Marshal and he’s been to all the shatterdomes (which I’m sure I have a list of shatterdowns somewhere) and they were all use to Noct being there even if he complained all the time they loved him

because when it came down to it, he worked just as hard as the rest of them and had no problems getting dirty and lending a helping hand.

when Noct wakes up, he’s just not the same anymore and no one knows what to do

and the kaiju just keep coming....and coming....and coming. so much more often now.

And people are dying...

Mk 4s are: Judgement Bolt. Diamond Dust. Lady Fickle (Stella and Pelna) and Phoenix Quick (Aranea and Prompto).

Prompto! He is a normal kid born in Niflheim. His dad was killed in....Ueltham (where is that other than Niflheim, I don’t know, but I know it’s a city) by a bomb dropped to kill the third kaiju (which I’d originally named Snaga and now playing the game it might fit? Idk)

He doesn’t blame anyone for it but the kaiju but hitchhikes his way to the Insomnia Shatterdome to work as j-crew (mechanics on the jaegers)

him and aranea become fast friends as she waited to find someone she was compatible with since her last one (Crowe) was more compatible with someone else (Luna) before they even entered a real jaeger

(hint hint they’re compatible)

their launch in Phoenix Quick is officially one month after the Aster Prophet disaster, but they were launched unofficially for Marilith (but it didn’t matter because it never came close to them since they were in the Pelles Shatterdown with Nyx and Libertus in Crow Intercept)

At this moment I am now realizing I forgot about Ravus, but I think he might be a Marshal (his and Luna’s mom is a Marshal)

Okay now we’re getting into less detailed outlines of stuff

Mk 5s are: Obsidian Star. Holy Ultima. And Pyre Brave

This part is complicated since I didn’t fully flesh it out.

Phoenix Quick is decommissioned after 1 kill when the powers that be decided to scrap it and use it to make a mk 5. (They end up not using much of it)

Aranea moves to be a rotate pilot for Luna and Crowe

Prompto becomes even faster friends with a withdrawn Noctis.

Which, lemme tell you, literally everyone held their breath the first time Noct laughed after the Aster Prophet disaster.

And it was all because of prompto

A new jaeger is built Obsidian Star. but no pilots.

Holy Ultima is built, but no pilots

Then Pyre Brave comes out of fucking nowhere and starts ATTACKING other jaegers

Pyre Brave is piloted by Titus and Luche and was made by Ardyn and Verstael

….which doesn’t make any sense because Verstael helped make the jaeger program????

(hint: it’s Ardyn and the Precursors’ fault)

So Regis and Clarus give it one more try in Holy Ultima even though they dying from their first jaeger attempt (radiation is a bitch)

And they fail

and die

Noct doesn’t take this...well

He and Prompto hijack Obsidian Star from being tested by veterans and new recruits a like

and go after Pyre Brave with Gaia Assassin

(oh no I forgot about Iris and Talcott...or did I? I think I made them J crew or something)

and, honestly, that’s all I got for this jaeger/people/lot wise

all kaiju are named after daemons (and the zu)

The first one was Starscourge. It aimed for Crestholm City, Leide first. Destroyed it, travelled to Coernix in Duscae (I know this isn’t on the coast, I tweaked geography), and killed thousands of people before the LAF and the AN (Lucian Air Force and Accordian Navy) killed it.

The third Kaiju is Snaga. The sixth is Iseultalon.

I’m sure I have a list of kaiju in order and who killed them, but I can’t find it right now

I honestly think that’s all I have for this

hope someone enjoys this!

thanks!

#final fantasy xv #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #my writing #ffxv #final fantasy 15

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merlevum · 6 years

Text

Dormiens rex De Aurora

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Nyx Ulric Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, cyrofreeze, cryovat Summary: Noctis and Gladiolus are forced into a cyrofreezing chamber to secure the future of a new dawn. What they don't realise, is that a thousand years is a long time and things have changed more than they originally thought. At least one mission remains the same: take back the crystal and wake the slumbering Astrals. That is if Noct and Gladio want to bring about the dawn again. They'll need a bit of help though. Perhaps not all hope is lost.

[Basically, what would happen if Gladio and Noctis end up frozen for a thousand years because Insomnia fell before the peace signing ever happened. Now Gladio and Noct are going to be picking up the pieces. I'm terrible at summaries.]

Iris laughed as Gladio choked on his dinner. It was just the two of them, sitting on a couch in an apartment. Nothing glamorous, but it was enough for what they needed. Everyone else part of the resistance was in the same boat, after all, living in abandoned apartments as the Niffs continued closing ranks.

They rebellion was all that was left to go against Niflheim. The abandoned apartments of Insomnia were perfect for hiding out. The streets and other buildings not being used for residency were useful for urban warfare. The remaining Kingsglaive would give the Niflheim a run for their money, and what Gladio would give to be right alongside them.

Over the course of the years, their numbers waned, and now it was just a handful of rebels left. The worst part of it all, their leader and rightful king of Lucis was killed earlier that weak. Moral was low and it was tough trying to keep everyone from sinking. Thankfully he had Iris there to remind him of why he was fighting and why they needed to pull through with this asinine plan. In truth, Gladio should have been with the prince, considering he was the prince’s shield, but things had changed.

“You have a what? Come on, Iris. You’re only now telling me?” Gladio sighed, forgetting about his meal for a moment as mediocre as it was. How could he know anything about a boyfriend when his sister just now told him that she was seeing someone for months.

“What? I couldn’t have told you till now. You’d go and find him and beat him up, Gladdy. I don’t want that,” she said, smirking. “Besides, you had more important things to deal with.”

Gladio could see it, the unshed tears starting to gloss his sister’s eyes as her smile wavered. Of course, she’d wait till the last fucking minute to tell him about a boyfriend. He had hardly been around to really be there for her in the last few months. Not with the Niffs drawing closer and closer and his detail of protecting the prince. Not to mention he and their dad were fighting about the cryofreeze they wanted to put him under in hopes of a better future.

‘You are a shield and part of the house Amicitia, Gladiolus. Start acting like it.’

Was his father’s way of saying there was nothing more to discuss, despite Gladio being old enough to make his own choices. But this decision was not coming from his father, it was coming from the head of the Kingsglaive along with the Crownsguard now. It was an order to a soldier and not a son. Perhaps he resented that part of his father, wishing that he wasn’t the head of the Kingsglaive and the one everyone was looking to for hope when the king fell.

The two hadn’t spoken since. Gladio too furious at his own dad for wanting to freeze him because of a prophecy their king had before his death, and Clarus-- well who knew what his dad was thinking.

“Nothing's more important than you, moogs,” Gladio reached over ruffled her hair. “But if he’s not treatin’ you right, you tell dad, yeah?”

She nodded, sniffling. “I-I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, Iris. Me too. Trust me, if I didn’t have to, I would stay right here.” Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. He hated making his sister cry, or even just on the verge of tears. How was he supposed to protect anyone if he couldn’t even keep his kid sister from crying?

“I-I’ll write letters, and maybe even record something for you. You’ll just have to find it, kay?” Iris said, tears now spilling over her eyes.

She hiccuped before flinging her arms around Gladio and cried. He patted her head and held her. Even if she did those things, there was no telling if he’d actually be able to find them. But for her sake he nodded, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak. If only she could have come with him. She would have been able to keep him in check and give him something even worth fighting for, but it just wasn’t possible. Instead, it would just be him and Noct. He cleared his throat when she finally let go of him.

“Good. Now, did ya make your favourite brother dessert?”

Laughing, she shook her head with an apologetic look. “No. They didn’t have what I needed…..sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Gladio pushed his plate aside, no longer all that hungry.

He hugged her once more, wanting to convey to her how much he loved her and that no matter the time or distance he always would. He practically raised her when their dad wasn’t around and now that things would only get worse from here on out, he didn’t want her to be alone. Holding her, he had a feeling it would be the last time he’d get a chance to do it. She would grow up while he remained a frozen corpse essentially until they woke him up again.

If he was ever woken up. This was more like a suicide mission really, if no one actually woke him or Noct back up. The thought sent a shudder through him. None of this was to his liking, but with his sister next to him, he finally drifted to sleep. They slept like that until Clarus came to fetch his son the next morning.

“Gladiolus,” Clarus started before sighing.

Gladio ignored him as they walked down the corridor that led to the cryovat chamber. They were several floors below the basement of a building that had served as some sort of science tech lab before Niflheim decided to invade. The way he saw it, the making of the cryovat made Gladio wonder if maybe this was a plan they had all along, since the beginning of the invasion. To throw the prince into a cryostasis because they fucked up too much to actually win. He knew he was being bitter and didn’t care.

“You know why you must be the one.” Clarus put a firm hand on Gladio’s shoulder, who was ready to all about shrug it off, but didn’t when he looked up at his dad. “Noct knows you. Your vats are synced up. If he wakes up, so do you and he’ll need you. Along with this.”

Clarus held up a ring. It was small in his father’s large hand. The metallic black held the image of the royal seal of Lucis. In the middle of the seal was an icy blue crystal. Gladio took it gingerly. The only way his dad could have gotten a hold of the ring was to be with King Regis when he died or sought the body after he was killed. Or had King Regis given Clarus the ring before he was killed? So many questions and there was hardly any time for answers. Whatever the answer was, he just hoped that Noct wouldn’t ask him later.

“That is the ring of Lucis and very important if you are going to help his high- his majesty win back the war later.” Gladio could see the pain behind his dad’s eyes. Noct was technically king now, not that the kid acted like it. Not yet anyway, but Gladio would help him. “Everything has been put in place, except your willingness to go.”

“Can you blame me?” Gladio asked shrugging out of his dad’s grip. He glanced to his dad as they made their way into the room that held the cryovat.

“No.”

Gladio sighed, stuffing the ring into the pocket of his pants, much his father’s chagrin. The air in the room was chilly, but he knew in moments he would be much colder. People flitted about, working on machines he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Not that it mattered. He didn’t really want to know what the hell they were doing; Gladio prefered the weight of metal in his hand or a good book. Would they have books when he woke up? He sure as hell hoped so. Maybe they should have packed some gear or something and left it in the room for them? Not like his dad actually told him the plan for how they were supposed to wake up aside from the fact they weregoing to wake up.

“I’d rather stay and fight, but if Noct needs me fine. I’ll do this.” Gladio stripped himself of the jacket he wore and shirt, knowing that the pants and the shoes were about the only thing coming with him.

The tattoos he got when he joined the Kingsglaive and then later the Crownsguard were revealed. Nothing new to him and Clarus, Gladio could feel the technician’s gaze on his arms. The feather tattoos had been Nyx’s idea, and Gladio had to admit they were pretty nice to look at. What would the future think of his tattoos? Not that it mattered, they were more for him in the first place, just like his father had a pendant of his usual broadsword hanging around his neck. The technician applied pads to his chest when Clarus cleared his throat. Gladio distracted himself by looking at his dad.

“J-Just….keep everyone safe. Kay? And make sure you check on Iris every once in a while, she misses you.”

And I won’t be around to pick up the slack anymore.

“I’ll do my best Gladio.” Clarus came forward with quick strides when the technician was finished hooking Gladio up. He could feel his dad’s love through the hug, strong and a bit hesitant. Neither of them wanted this, but it was the only way to secure the future. Gladio just hoped he and Noct didn’t fuck it up. If they couldn’t do it now with his dad and Cor, he wasn’t so confident they could do it in the future either.

“I’ll do my best too...dad,” Gladio said, a lump forming in his throat.

“Time to--”

Sirens blared to life. Shit, Astrals take him, those fucking Niffs had somehow gotten into the cryovat building. Gladio made to grab for his clothes, screw being put into the cryovat. He would fight alongside his dad. They could put the ring in the cryovat alone for all he cared. But Clarus held out a hand and shook his head.

“I’ll make sure they don’t get this far. Get into the vat, now.” Clarus assumed his role as head of the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard. Gladio didn’t want to part like this, but the order was there and he had been raised to follow orders. “Please... So they can start the process. And Gladio….no matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”

Gladio bit back the tears, watching his dad walk away. Niflheim would pay for what they had done and going to do. Letting it all go, Gladio turned his attention to the machine that would be his home for an insurmountable time. It was large and rather crass compared to some of the tech Insomnia had produced in the past, but then this tech was still fairly new. The large chamber released small puffs of crystal air as it was opened. One of the techs helped him inside, hooking up the remainder of the cables to the machine. When everything was good, the door closed. It took all of Gladio’s will to push down the sudden fear of the enclosed space.

This wouldn’t be the end. He would get woken up again. He had a job to do and he was going to do it. Wait for Noct to wake the fuck up and then kick some ass. A cold crept through him as the air around him began to crystallize as if Shiva herself was freezing him. He watched outside the little window from the vat. He could see the technicians scurry this way and that, shouting something or other. The lights flickered, but the power to the vat stayed the same. Gladio wanted nothing more than to rip open the door, but when his hand went to feel for the handle, he quickly realised there was none. He was trapped until someone would open it for him.

Panicked, he tried to steady his breathing, but it hurt. Gods did it hurt. His breath came out in short bursts of crystallized air. Slowly his body began to shiver and after another minute or so, he couldn’t even feel his legs anymore. He didn’t dare look down at them, panic and fear making him wish he had never set foot in this damned thing. Instead, he focused on the commotion outside the window through his ragged breathing.

Right as his hands started to go numb, he saw it, his father come barreling through the door. Someone had pushed him. Rage and anger filled him, seeing his dad get tossed by some Niff trash. The old man had better get up. Some of the technicians pulled out weapons of their own, coming to his dad’s rescue. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move his hands to bang on the door of the vat, calling out to his dad.

It was just so damn hard to keep his eyes open.

Fucking Six.

It was just too damned cold.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #fanfic: dormiens rex de aurora #gladnis

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bgn846 · 4 years

Text

Old Wounds - FFXV fanfic

Summary: Ignis works to figure out how he can incorporate befriending a maralith into his busy schedule. Noct may have something to say about it, and it might not be good.

Work Text:

“You can’t be serious?!” Noct all but yelled. “He’s dangerous, you can’t go back. One of those things almost killed me, remember?”

Ignis took a deep breath through his nose and waited to make sure Noct wasn’t going to say anything else. “I understand that highness, but there is a chance he may come looking for me if I don’t make an appearance soon.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, I – I don’t know what I would have done if something --,” Noct paused and looked away. “I just can’t bear the thought of you around that thing.”

“Understood,” Ignis replied with a forced smile. After his ordeal with the maralith, Gladiolus, a month ago, Ignis wasn’t in the mood to push things. He’d had enough nightmares to last him a lifetime already, he didn’t really need to add to them.

Gathering his paperwork he stood and exited Noct’s private meeting rooms. Talking about the incident brought back all the memories like it was yesterday. Ignis thought he was going to die out in the field that day. No one expects to come back from being captured by a maralith, especially one that takes you to his cave where no one can attempt a rescue.

Shoving aside the emotions it stirred, Ignis made his way to his next meeting. He’d become a bit of a celebrity since his return. The crownsguard that had survived a maralith attack and lived to speak of it, that’s what people said. The chatter seemed to follow him through the halls, but Ignis was getting tired of hearing it. Noct had been attacked and barely survived. Ignis didn’t hear anyone at the citadel talking about Noct in awe. It didn’t seem fair in a way, the prince deserved recognition for his plight, and he’d been closer to death’s door than Ignis had.

Though nearly drowning and freezing to death hadn’t been a fun experience either, shuddering at the memory Ignis hurried along the corridor. The sooner he could put this all behind him the better. Though, he did feel a small bubble of guilt for having lied to the monster. Offering to go back and see him made sense at the time. Ignis hadn’t wanted to anger the maralith.

No matter how bad it made him feel, Noct was resolute in his opinion. The prince didn’t want Ignis to see Gladiolus again. Praying that the monster would forget him was wishful thinking, Ignis had a feeling the maralith wouldn’t stay silent forever. Sighing heavily Ignis tried to clear his head, he had work to do.

It was one week later that Ignis received a frantic summons in the middle of a meeting. The guard who came to collect him was practically running as they made their way to the kings’ office. All Ignis had been told was something had happened that required his immediate attention. Most of his fears were laid to rest when he was ushered into the space and saw Regis and Noct in attendance along with Cor and Clarus.

“What’s happened?” Ignis asked once the guard left.

“The maralith has made an appearance,” Cor offered as he stepped forward to hand Ignis a tablet.

“Is this security footage?”

“Yes, from the nearest outpost to his cave,” Cor replied.

“Oh dear, has he hurt anyone?” Ignis couldn’t bear it if the maralith had killed someone due to his actions.

“No, he’s been blocking the road though, and yelling your name, loudly.”

Groaning Ignis ducked his head, this wasn’t how he’d hoped his afternoon would go. Looking over at the prince revealed the young man staring resolutely at the floor. “What would you have me do?” Ignis asked glumly.

“It’d probably be best if you could talk to him, you were able t--.”

“No! I won’t let Iggy go back out there, he could get hurt, like me,” Noct lamented.

Ignis chose to stay silent; he’d already had enough arguments with Noct over this very subject. The battle was not his to win anymore.

“Highness, with all due respect to your past history, this maralith isn’t like any other I’ve seen,” Cor tried with a sad face. “We don’t know what it’ll do if he doesn’t see Ignis.”

“What if it’s a trick,” Noct uttered softly. “What if he just wants to hurt Ignis this time?”

“Son, have you heard Ignis’ account of what happened?” Regis asked.

Noct turned towards his father and shook his head. “I couldn’t, I didn’t want to think of Ignis being attacked like I was.”

“His situation was different than yours, perhaps if you hear what Ignis has to say on the matter you may change your mind. Not all things are in black and white,” Regis finished.

“I know that!” Noct hissed but he still had a hard look on his face.

Ignis was stunned to hear that Noct still hadn’t gotten all the details of what had occurred. The prince had always left the room when he was retelling his story, and Ignis had figured he would at least read the report later. Apparently, Noct had done nothing of the sort and instead remained fearful. It pained Ignis to no end that his friend and liege couldn’t even stand to hear his account due to the suffering it caused. “I’m so sorry Noct, I didn’t think my struggles would cause you such grief,” Ignis added after a moment of silence.

“Whoa! I’m not upset with you Ignis! Shit, no, um – gah!” Noct gave up trying to finish his sentence and threw his head back into the sofa cushion.

“Might you be up for hearing what happened?” Regis asked quietly.

Noct took a few minutes to respond, “fine.”

Without pause, Ignis retold the one part of the story he assumed Noct would care about, the moment where Gladiolus had saved him, first from drowning and second from hypothermia.

“Wait? The snake man actually saved you?” Noct asked incredulously.

“Yes, and I do understand your reservations about me seeing him again, but I fear he may get violent if I don’t make this effort,” Ignis pleaded.

“I’m not sending you out there alone!” Noct proclaimed.

Ignis could hear Cor sighing heavily in the background, along with Clarus. The two were not happy with this new development, but what choice did they have. If Ignis had been unable to win an argument with Noct over this subject then they certainly weren’t going to fare any better.

“I suppose we should get a move on, the longer we keep this maralith waiting the more agitated he could become,” Regis announced as he stood up slowly.

“Hold on, you aren’t going!” Clarus sputtered indigently.

The king laughed humorlessly as he grabbed his cane and began walking towards the door. “If you think I’m going to let my son go anywhere near a maralith without sussing out the situation first, you’re crazy Clarus.”

Ignis could feel his adrenaline spiking as he got out of the car nearly an hour later. They’d made it to the checkpoint and Gladiolus was clearly visible on the other side of the fence. It was obvious he could have smashed through easily. For him to hold back was promising.

As he approached the gate Gladiolus saw him and rushed forward, knocking over the guards in his way. In a surprising move, the maralith vaulted his long body over the fence and landed with a significant thud directly in front of Ignis.

The monster didn’t wait for permission this time as he scooped Ignis up and glared at him. Thankfully, this time the hold wasn’t tight and Ignis’ arms were free. The distant cries of people shouting things about being on standby and hold your fire made Ignis heart beat faster. Before he could think of what to say Gladiolus offered his opinion.

“Liar!” he accused while reaching out a hand to lift Ignis’ chin slightly.

“I’ve got a job to do Gladiolus, I can’t come out here all the time.”

“Liar,” he grumbled again.

Sighing heavily Ignis wondered what he could say to appease the giant temperamental snake man. “I’m truly sorry for not coming sooner.”

“Why?” Gladiolus asked as he removed his finger from under Ignis’ chin.

Honesty was the best policy, right? Ignis felt a little bad at having to resort to tattling, but this maralith was too smart to be trifled with. “My boss forbade me from coming.”

Gladiolus scrunched up his face and curled his lip slightly. “Non scitis sermo.”

Thinking fast Ignis understood that Gladiolus probably didn’t have a need for the word boss in his life. “Uh, master? King?” When the maraliths’ frown turned into a smirk he knew he’d figured it out.

“Maneat?” the maralith asked as his shoulders relaxed.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay, my master gets nervous with your kind.”

“Why?” Gladiolus demanded.

“He was attacked by a maralith and almost died when he was younger,” Ignis replied in a soft voice so Noct wouldn’t hear. The king and his son were only a few yards away. Regis had adopted a somewhat familiar fighting stance, and Noct was visibly shaking.

“Dicite mihi in nomen! Ego nocere esi,” Gladiolus fumed, his frown was back.

Ignis wasn’t sure exactly what the maralith had said, but he was quickly trying to translate. His refresher course in ancient solheimian over the past few weeks hadn’t been for naught. Going out on a limb Ignis repeated what he thought Gladiolus had said. “You want the name of the maralith, right? The one that hurt my friend?”

Gladiolus nodded and balled up one of his fists, shaking it around towards the sky. “Ego nocere esi!”

“You want to do something to them?”

“Malum, hurt,” he finished with a pout.

“I think it might help for him to hear that, do you think you could put me down for a moment?” Ignis tried to resituate himself, but one of his legs was bent underneath a massive hand and the other was sticking out in between Gladiolus fingers. He must have looked ridiculous fidgeting in the monster's grasp.

“Maneat?”

“Yes, I’ll stay this time, I’m not leaving.”

Gladiolus nodded and then gently lowered Ignis to the ground. His hands remained bracketed around him until he stood up straight. How this monster knew his knees were pudding was a mystery. Carefully pushing the maraliths’ hands to the side he approached Noctis.

“We’re leaving!” he spit out.

Ignis held up his hand, “highness, may I please just ask you to be patient with me? I’d like to tell you what he just said.”

“You can talk to him?”

Nodding Ignis waited for Noct to look directly at him. “He’s just offered to go hurt the maralith that attacked you.”

“Why?!” Noct asked in surprise.

“Would you like me to ask him?” Before Noct could answer Ignis turned around and looked up at Gladiolus. “My friend wishes to know why you would offer to hurt the one that attacked him.”

“Et nocuerunt tua, familia. Non est bonum.”

“What’d he say?” Noct asked quickly as he walked up to stand nearby.

“I believe he’s saying that the other maralith hurt my family and that’s bad.”

Noct looked slightly stunned by that comment. “He doesn’t know me at all, why would he say that?”

“Ignis amans mei,” Gladiolus offered calmly like it was the most reasonable explanation.

“Huh, what does that mean?” the prince asked innocently.

Of course, this was the exact time that Regis decided this maralith wasn’t a threat and strode forward to answer his son’s question. “I believe the maralith thinks Ignis is his lover.”

Ignis could feel heat pooling in his cheeks at the admission. He didn’t know why it would be so embarrassing to hear spoken out loud. It wasn’t like he felt the same way back.

“Um, what? How the hell would that even work?” Noct asked risking a glance that wasn’t anywhere near Gladiolus' face.

“Don’t continue that train of thought Noctis Lucis Caelum. Or I will cook you nothing but vegetables for a solid month.”

Noct clamped his mouth shut and scooted closer as if to say sorry.

“Dicere illud nomine!” Gladiolus requested suddenly as he bent down to look at them better.

“This is my friend Noctis,” Ignis replied as he put an arm around the princes’ shoulder.

“No, nomine alio.” The maralith looked a little desperate.

This time the king stepped closer and repeated their family name. “We are of the family Lucis Caelum. I am called Regis and this is my son Noctis.”

Gladiolus furrowed his brow and squinted at Noctis. “Vultus amo Somnus.”

“Yes, he does look like the founder king, it’s true,” Ignis said calmly.

“No, est Somnus,” Gladiolus energetically replied gesturing towards Noct’s face. “Est Somnus.”

Ignis could feel the blood draining from his face, if he understood Gladiolus correctly that would mean he’d actually seen Somnus in his lifetime. Since the maralith seemed to think Noct was Somnus.

“Er, Somnus died several thousand years ago Gladiolus. This is his descendent.”

The maralith furrowed his brow and began silently counting on his many fingers. “Milia?”

“Yes, thousands, have you lost track of time?”

Gladiolus nodded and frowned. He seemed deep in thought until Regis broke the silence.

“Perhaps we could move this meeting to someplace more comfortable?” the king suggested kindly.

The maralith immediately straightened up and pointed back toward his cave in the mountains. He seemed excited by that prospect.

“There is a perfectly good outbuilding near the guard station. I believe it would be spacious enough to fit you.”

Trying to teach English to a two thousand-year-old maralith was easier than Ignis expected. Mainly because he understood the language already and simply hadn’t known how to pronounce things. Surprisingly Regis and Noct had stayed during the impromptu language lesson. The outbuilding had been large enough to pull their car into so the king had opted to take a nap in the front passenger seat. Noct meanwhile sat in the backseat with the window rolled down staring at them.

Ignis could tell Noct was still nervous, but he hoped it would help to see him interact with Gladiolus in a good way. The maralith had been on his best behavior. It probably helped that Ignis let Gladiolus hold him during their lesson. The maralith’s tail was curled around them both protectively as he sat on Gladiolus' hand like some giant warm squishy bench.

Soon enough the sun had fully set and Ignis knew they’d need to get back home. “I’m afraid it’s time for us to go back to the city.”

“No.” Gladiolus pouted.

“Come now, it can’t be that bad when we leave?”

“Lonely,” the maralith answered.

Knowing he couldn’t promise to come back until Noct had given him his blessing, Ignis thought of what he could say to help make Gladiolus feel better. “Shall we ask the king if I can come back to teach you more?”

“Yes! I want that,” Gladiolus agreed with a hopeful look.

The sound of a car door opening caused Ignis to look over, Noct was carefully walking closer. “Do you promise not to hurt anyone?”

“Et iusiurandum dant, I give oath.”

“No tricks, right?” Noct questioned seriously, looking very much like his father in the process.

Gladiolus shook his head and smiled. “I will see Ignis again, this makes me happy.”

“Okay, I’m alright with you coming out here to meet. Just please be careful.” That last statement was directed towards him and not the maralith.

“Curam, tutum,” Gladiolus added earnestly. “Ignis safe, I no hurt.”

“I won’t hurt,” Ignis corrected.

The maralith beamed at him and nodded.

“Very well, do you think you could tell the guards at the station that you wish to see me without blocking the road next time?”

“Yes, bring me Ignis,” Gladiolus offered with a grin.

Unwilling to correct the maralith Ignis nodded and stood up. “I’ve got to get home and rest, perhaps in a few days you can come to ask for me?”

“Yes, I do that, tomorrow.”

“No, let’s make it three days from now.”

“No lie?”

“No I’m not lying, three days from now I’ll be ready to come back here, just be kind to the guards.”

“I will, go safely Ignis.”

“And you as well,” he offered. Then in a move that would surely be his downfall later, Gladiolus bent down and kissed the top of his head. Momentarily stunned by the action Ignis didn’t do anything as the maralith uncoiled his tail and slithered off. Complete with a devilish smirk. The tricky bastard even turned back briefly just to say ‘amans mei’ before disappearing.

“Ignis, did the snake man just kiss you?” Noct asked a little breathlessly.

“Veggies, Noct, lots of them if you tell anyone.”

“Tell them what?” Noct answered before rushing back to the car to wake his father.

Cor was by his side a moment later, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m – I – shit, Cor I don’t know, this is all very overwhelming.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. Take things a step at a time. Not sure what you can do if he tries to kiss you again though.”

“Marshal, six help me, don’t start.”

“I would never dream of it Ignis. I’m here to help. Might I suggest a trip to the archives to see if anyone else has been caught in the sights of an amorous maralith?”

Now that idea Ignis could run with, this had to have happened before! Hopefully, someone wrote down their life story and Ignis would find it. Though he wasn’t sure his luck would run that way. For now, he had a budding friendship with a maralith. Noct wasn’t stopping it and Gladiolus seemed to behave well enough. Time would tell what happened next.

#ffxv #maralith #gladio #ignis #maralithio #fanfic #gladio as a maralith

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