#it really sets the mood perfectly for the airships

[iholli]

an unusual song that’s your favorite?

I would consider this unusual cause I very rarely play video games and most people think I'm weird for listening to non lyric & soundtrack music FDGGIFHVK

anyway back in the day before YouTube went critical with the copyright strikes there was a 10 hour loop of this song and I always played it when I was reading. The YouTube version may be long gone but now I can have it on eternal repeat on Spotify while reading the exact same books. 💚

[edensrose]

Foxx, AaAAA sorry for dropping so many requests but your writings just *chef's kiss*, can I have a headcanon of slayer white and and attendant!reader when he saw attendant!reader wearing a really pretty choker and earring set from their master ? And the Reader's master's nowhere to be seen.

ommgggg you'll make me bluusshh 🥺💕 here you go! hope you enjoy!! 💞

ৎ୭ — summary : white meeting with the reader again after some time, only to see her with jewellery that her master gave her - making white snap

ৎ୭ — type : headcanon

ৎ୭ — genre : miscellaneous

ৎ୭ — warnings : white gets a tad bit aggressive // some jealousy

ৎ୭ — word count : 595

ৎ୭ — taglist : @spoopy-fish-writes @a-chaotic-dumbass @rurifangirl @shanmie @hirzaeth // please fill out this form if you'd like to be added

•White was pleased when he had learned that you would be aiding team Bam due to an agreement that your master had made with the irregular. It meant he finally got to see you again, albeit, with that slayer of yours [ your master ] that drove him up the wall but whatever, he’ll take what he could get

•He had yet to see you but had heard of your arrival. Your master had was currently attending to some business with Karaka so White took it as the perfect opportunity to meet with you again. Which resulted in him searching high and low for you, practically going on a mini search. Something which made Hansung chuckle beneath his breath when he saw how eager the slayer was to see you again

•Finally, it seemed as though he had found you. It was as if he had seen you just yesterday. Your hair drifted with a small breeze as he slowly came to a stop a few feet behind you. Whilst awaiting your master you had decided to stare off outside of the airship

•White couldn’t help but be fascinated by you. No person has ever intrigued him more - in a way that wasn’t malicious. He didn’t feel the need to hurt you or make you cry. If anything. . . he almost tried to be a bit more polite when it came to you. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator that you stole his heart - then he wasn’t sure what was

•“Y/N,’’ he shakes his head to stop staring and finally calls for you. “Fancy seeing you again ~”

•As you turn to face him, you blink - a little startled but nonetheless bow in respect as you had been taught. “Master White, it certainly has been awhile.” When you had turned to him, he didn’t expect his muscles to grow a bit tense. Then again. . . you always had that effect on him. He hated it, he hated how you made him feel.

•White steps towards you, observing your gorgeous eyes, the little smile that curled on your lips. The - what were those?

•He stops before you, staring at the beautiful black choker that adorned your neck, matching a pair of earrings. With the signature colour, he knew it had to have been from your master - and it made his mood drop. Why were you so loyal to that man? He didn’t understand. White could give you all of these things - even more if you asked! And yet. . . it would always be that man

•Before he could think, anger bubbled within him like a festering and boiling pot of water before he finally first. His hand would shoot out, grabbing the choker and yanking you forward, making you yelp in the process and shoot your hands to his wrist

•Yet. . . he didn’t hurt you. All he did was stare at you with eyes full of uncontrollable rage. A shadow cast over his face which was perfectly framed by his light-coloured hair. “Why?’’ He starts, leaning down to where his face is inches from yours. “Why are you so hung up over that man?’’ He grunts

•Before you can answer, however. A sudden shout causes both of your heads to turn, catching sight of Bam who stands on the side - having just walked in on you two. White jerks his hand forward as he releases you, causing you to stumble in the slightest

•He would leave without a word, shoulder clashing with Bam’s as he pushed past him. White would never understand. . . why couldn’t you just be his already?

[askrighthandrecollections]

Prologue: Revelations of the Heart

The drone of the airship engines was a familiar thing to the Right Hand Man as he lay awake in bed, his wide-brimmed top hat hanging off the bedpost. The lateness of the hour did nothing to ease the man into the land of dreams, indeed, he was still far too alert, his thoughts too noisy for sleep to claim him. For once, it wasn’t his years of training as a Toppat Enforcer that kept him awake.

He was plagued with worry.

It gnawed at him, strengthened by memories of things that had yet to come to pass. Of things that could still happen, death in multiple ways and on repeat. His own death never phased him, he knew he would die as he lived, protecting the clan until his last breath. It was the death of one man in particular that ate away at him. Numerous deaths he knew had happened, even after Right himself had met his end.

He knew and he hated it.

He heaved himself upright with a sigh, half expecting to see the gleam of metal in the corner of his eyes and reminding himself that he was hale, hearty, and whole. No cybernetics.

Yet.

Reaching out towards the wall, he fumbled for the light switch, and momentarily blinded himself as the overhead light blinked to life.

He groaned as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Clearing the spots from his vision, he got up and padded over to the small desk in the corner of the room.

His quarters were simple. A bed to sleep in, a wardrobe to store his clothes, a desk so he could work in peace, and a bookshelf he used to store the small amount of knickknacks and treasures he’d accumulated during his time in the clan.

Sliding into the rickety old desk chair, he grabbed the notebook sitting near the top corner of the desk and a pen from the “Big Banana” coffee mug he used as a pen holder. Opening the book to the most recent page, he checked over his notes.

I forgot how much of a bastard Terrence is. Just seeing his ugly mug makes me want to punch his lights out, but I can’t risk Reg not becoming the leader. It is tempting though.

Got “upgraded” again, that’s the fifth time I’ve gone through this.

Dunno if Henry’s an idiot or genius, half the time he kills himself and the other half he kills everyone else.

Really starting to hate those CCC blokes. Bit too trigger happy.

I do not get paid enough to deal with this crap. But I put up with it, for the Toppats, for Reg. Seriously, who just goes and steals an entire rocket?

One good thing about being in prison is that I get to sit back and watch the show, Reg and I even share a cell.

He added a new entry.

Having Henry be a competent leader would’ve been nice. Might’ve even respected him a bit, you know, if he hadn’t killed me, my boss, and the rest of the clan multiple times in a dozen different ways.

Right set the pen down, staring at the page. It seemed that this cycle of repetition was endless. Wake up with Terrence as Chief and the clan being run into the ground, die several years down the line, or live just long to see the clan off in safe hands.

And it all revolved Henry.

The thought made his blood boil and he exhaled sharply as he pushed the indignation and fury aside in an effort to focus. Here he was, years, lifetimes of experiences under his belt but he couldn’t act on it. Not when he had a duty to the clan.

He’d sooner jump off the airship than leave Reginald by himself. Right steadfastly ignored the other feelings wrapped up in that thought, it wasn’t his place. Reginald was destined to become Chief, to lead the clan into a new golden age. It was his duty as an Enforcer to protect the high-ranking members of the clan, and he had been made Reginald’s Right Hand minutes after denouncing Terrence.

He ran a hand through his hair, idly wondering if he should grow it out this time or keep it cut short. Staring at his notes didn’t provide any further insight to his situation, nor magically offer a solution.

Be a hell of a lot simpler if I could talk to Reg about it. He thought and blinked.

What was stopping him? What was stopping him from doing anything? Even if Reg didn’t believe him, he’d certainly play along and humour Right. Even passing off the situation as a side affect of his Sands of Time was believable enough since Right had no idea what was causing this in the first place.

For all he knew, it could be his Spirit reacting to something, he wouldn’t know. Hadn’t used the thing in years because no one else had one and it would be dishonourable to use it otherwise.

He glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall by the door and grimaced at the early hour it displayed. It would be some time before anyone was awake, let alone an early bird like Reginald.

With another sigh, Right put his pen and book back where he found them and stood up to head back to bed.

The door to his quarters opened with a hiss and he turned around, wide-eyed as a bleary-eyed Reginald walked in, still in his sleepwear.

“Uh, somethin’ wrong Reg?” Right asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Reginald replied, groggy. “It’s 3am, what are you still doing up?”

“Can’t sleep.” He replied honestly with a shrug.

Reginald peered at him for a moment.

“If something’s bothering you, you can always tell me.”

“I know Reg, not now though, go back to bed,” Right waved him off. “I’ll tell you in the morning over breakfast.”

“Hm… I’ll hold you to that.” Reginald looked at him sceptically before leaving the room to return to his own quarters.

Right stumbled back and sat on his bed, sagging as he rested his head in his hands.

What was he going to tell him? How was he going to tell him? He spared a glance over at the notebook.

“Screw it.” He muttered.

Reginald had unknowingly forced his hand and backed him into a corner. He almost preferred this, having the decision to share his concerns be out of his hands was like ripping off a band-aid, quick and to the point.

He spent the rest of the early hours of the morning both dreading and anticipating the conversation.

Right felt far more alert than he should be as he shambled into the airship kitchen several hours later. He’d chucked on his usual dress shirt, pants, and boots before heading out the door, dropping his hat on his head on the way out. He felt perfectly fine and like absolute garbage at the same time but that was more due to the lack of sleep if anything.

He saw Reginald in the middle of cooking some scrambled eggs on the oven grill.

“Mornin’” he grunted, attempting to walk past him to fix up his own food only for Reginald to hold out an arm to stop him.

Right raised a brow at him.

“You go take seat, I’m making breakfast for you today,” Reginald stated firmly, pointing the spatula he held at Right threateningly. “You look exhausted Right.”

Reginald was in one of those moods. The kind where he got into a snit over Right not taking of himself (like he could talk, Reginald’s workaholic tendencies frankly scared Right some days) and fussed over him until he was satisfied Right wasn’t going to keel over. Right preferred to do things himself, at least when it came to the little things, but he understood where Reginald was coming from.

He’d done the exact same thing for him after all.

He sighed and smiled slightly. “Alright, thanks Reg.”

He didn’t have to wait long, Reginald brought him a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and sat beside him at an empty table at the back of the cafeteria moments later.

“So, what had you up so late last night?” Reginald asked as he nursed a cup of coffee, picking at his own plate of toast. “Did you even get any sleep?”

“It’s complicated…” Right began. “And no, didn’t get a wink of sleep, not that it matters. I’ve worked under worse conditions.”

“How complicated? Is it something to do with the clan?”

Here goes. Right thought, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “It’s complicated ‘cause been I’ve been stuck reliving the past decade or so over an’ over. I’ve died an’ woke up back when Terrence was still chief with the memories of what happened as well as what happened after I croaked.”

Reginald was staring at him, expression unreadable yet Right could practically see the gears turning in his head. He took it as a good sign and pressed forward.

“You’ve died, the clan’s gone up in smoke, or we’ve had our stuff stolen and rarely do things ever go our way,” Right stated. “Seems like the universe likes taking the mick out of us. We’re usually brought down by one bloke.”

“I’m sorry? A single person destroys the Toppat Clan?” Reginald asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, guy by the name of Henry Stickmin…” Right growled, glaring at his breakfast. “Can’t tip Terrence off when I get sent back, but after that…. I’m your Right Hand Reg, that’s my job. Not this time travelling bullcrap…”

“I’m sick an’ tired of it.” Right admitted, sighing.

Reginald made a noise in sympathy. Silence fell between them as Right ate his breakfast and Reginald was staring into his morning coffee, thinking.

“You know…” Reginald said after a while and Right looked over at him, fork sticking out of his mouth. “why not make it your job?”

Right set his utensils down on his plate, looking curious. “How so?”

“If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t give a damn about remaining consistent, I’d do whatever it takes to change the future for the benefit of the clan.”

“Even if it meant you’d never become chief?” Right asked.

Reginald nodded sagely. “Even then, you know how important the clan is to me. And truth be told, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you, to bear the burden on not only your own demise but those of your allies as well. If it were me in your situation… I don’t believe I’d be nearly as calm…”

“You bein’ here helps with that,” Right said. “Knowing that you’re alive here an’ now, that it all wasn’t for nothin’… That keeps me going even in the worst of it.”

“In that case, we need to devise a way for you to inform me about this repeating life of yours every time you’re sent back,” Reginald decided. “It would certainly set my mind at ease knowing you won’t be dealing with this alone.”

“I have a book I keep notes in, more like a journal of sorts,” Right said. “Found it on my desk the first time I got sent back.”

“Anything else?”

“No, just the book. No idea where it came from.”

“Do you mind if I borrowed it?” Reginald asked.

Right shrugged as he shoved another mouthful of eggs and toast into his maw. “Go ‘head.”

The government attack on the airship happened like clockwork. Henry came crashing through the windshield in a big plastic ball. This time, they were prepared with the clan on alert and weapons at the ready. Reginald had cleared the bridge ahead of time and holed himself up in his quarters. Right refused to back down and had waited to see where Henry would appear. He smirked and stood tall.

“Why don’ you ditch your little hamster ball an’ face me yourself?” He drawled, weapon at the ready.

Across from him, Henry Stickmin pressed a button on the controller he held, and Right blinked as a large tube appeared on the front of the ball and dived out of the way of the green laser that fired from it.

He glanced over to see Henry was gone and sighed in exasperation.

“Bloody idiot…” he grumbled and grabbed the communicator clipped to his pants. “The Intruder’s been dealt with Reg. The bridge has sustained heavy damage though.”

Reginald replied moments later. “Round up a repair crew and I’ll see to getting the ship to one of our hangars.”

“Got it.” Right replied and left the bridge in search of Slice, knowing he would have the right people and resources ready to begin the repairs as soon as they landed.

It was as if his talk with Reginald had opened his eyes to the possibilities he now had. In the timelines that followed, Reginald had read his notes and the letter the chief had left for himself and worked with Right to use the information to the clan’s advantage. The schemes the man would concoct were a highlight of Right’s week.

Some things couldn’t be completely altered, as evident by Right’s cybernetic enhancements once more being the only thing that kept him alive after he’d tried to track Henry down and lost in the ensuing fight (again, he was really starting to hate the absurd amount of luck Stickmin had), and Reginald missing a hat.

Right remembered the events that followed all too well and upon hearing Reginald give the order to mobilise in preparation for an attack on The Wall, Right unplugged himself from the charging station installed by his bed and got up to retrieve a long, dark red coat from his wardrobe. It was something he’d started wearing whenever he got “upgraded”, the coat was from his old days before he’d even been assigned to the airship division, before he known as Right Hand Man.

He donned it now because his cybernetics were still new and fresh, still somewhat sensitive to the chill in the night air permeating the airship and his new internal heating systems hadn’t quite adjusted yet. The coat also came in handy as place to store all the little tools and gadgets he or Reginald often needed when out on the mission. He checked the pockets on the inside of the coat and felt a sliver of nervousness and a hint of confidence at the two small boxes tucked away within the confines of his coat.

If things were going to go the way he thought, he wanted something good to come of this. Even if that good was only temporary. He huffed as the left side of his vision was consumed by a blinking notification that he hadn’t finished charging and dismissed it with a roll of his eyes.

He could worry about that later, for now he had to stop Reginald from making a poor decision and dooming them all.

So Right headed towards the bridge.

The bridge was empty save for Reginald at the ship’s controls, everyone else having left to follow orders. Reginald turned around in the pilot’s seat as he heard him approach. “You should be resting Right. I can handle this little rescue operation.”

“I just need to know what you’re planning,” Right said, coming up to stand beside Reginald and resting a hand on the back of the chair. “You read the notes, I don’t want a repeat of that incident.”

“We can just take more precautions, with the information we have, taking out Henry won’t be an issue-”

Right was struck by a bolt of fear at the idea. It was rare that he was genuinely afraid, even rarer since his life had been put on repeat for several decades now, but there were some things that stuck with him. Things like the sight of Reginald pinned to the wall of the bridge, dead in the wreckage of his life’s work. Right had died that time somehow just knowing it was the end of the Toppats and embracing death with the knowledge he’d be sent back.

The knowledge of what happened after he perished had haunted him for days afterwards. It compounded on his bruised ego, the sensation that he was nothing more than a joke, a punching bag for the universe's twisted sense of humour, and he bought Reginald and the rest of the Toppats down with him.

Never again.

“Please Reg, don’t, don’t make me go through that again…” Right cut in. He kept his voice firm and looked away, pulling his hat down to hide his face further. “…I know you don’t like him, but I’m not havin’ that happen twice! ‘Specially since you know it’ll happen if you throw him overboard.”

He heard the squeak of leather as Reginald got up, the quiet sound of his shoes on the carpet as he walked around the chair to face the enforcer. A gloved hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder.

Right stared at the floor. It was cowardly of him yes, but it was better for to him hide when his mask of professionalism was so close to breaking. As good as his poker face was, Reginald would see through it.

Reginald would always be the chief to him, Right was his Enforcer, his Right Hand Man, and that was the be all, end all of it.

“Right,” Reginald said, the former leader’s concern making Right sigh in exasperation and embarrassment. “I assure you I won’t let anything like that happen.”

“Then don’ let your bitterness towards Henry influence your decisions.” Right grumbled. “If I can manage that, then so can you.”

Reginald stepped back. “Yes, I… I suppose I’ve been a bit single minded as of late haven’t I?”

Right sighed and finally looked up to see Reginald was worried, wringing his hands together, and seeing just how much of a toll this had on Right.

He sighed and removed his hat, holding it to his chest with one hand while the other reached into his coat to pull out one of the two boxes. “Look, I may not be the best at getting’ the point across, but I worry about you a lot Reg, I care about you. More than I rightly should given our respective jobs…” he hastily shoved the box into Reginald’s hands. “Ah to hell with it. Here, open it. You’ll see what I mean…”

Reginald quirked an eyebrow in curiosity as he opened the box. The former leader blinked in stunned silence at the light pink felt rose that lay inside.

“I know you like all those traditions the clan had throughout history, so I uh… made this for you… ‘cause I like you,” Right explained as Reginald gingerly picked up the fake rose and turned it over, revealing it was glued to a little gold pin. “It was tradition, back in the renaissance era or somethin’, to give someone in the clan a rose they could pin to their hat if you were interested in ‘em, romantically I mean. Pink ones were for confessin’ that you were interested.”

Right continued, looking off to the side, rambling. “S’lright if you don’t feel the same, don’t even know if you like blokes, it’s jus’ that when I heard the announcement that we were headin’ to The Wall, I knew I had to talk you down from chuckin’ Henry off the ship…” he rubbed the back of his neck as he put his hat back on. “An’ failin’ that, thought I might try my luck with… somethin’ else.”

“Right.” Reginald commanded and Right turned his head to look at him. Reginald’s featured softened into something gentle, and Right was taken aback when the taller man pulled him into a hug.

“You never have to worry about professionalism or where we stand in the clan. Do you hear me?” Reginald’s voice was thick with barely restrained emotion. “I adore you, you absolute fool…”

“Oh…” was all Right could say and timidly reached his arms around to hug Reginald back. This was new, and exhilarating, and terrifying all at once.

Eventually, Reginald pulled away and Right was left a quiet, elated mess of a man as Reginald cleared his throat to get his attention.

“Do you have one of these for yourself?” he quietly asked, holding up the rose and Right sheepishly pulled out the other box from his coat pocket.

“The one I gave you was the second attempt of makin’ one, kinda botched up the first one.” he admitted, opening the box to reveal a felt rose that had several crooked or off-centre petals.

Reginald cracked a smile, almost giggling as he swiped the crooked rose and pinned it to his hat.

“Oi!”

Reginald only laughed. “Hold still and let me pin the other one on you.”

Right huffed but let him pin the decent looking rose to the side of his hat. Reginald admired his handiwork with a satisfied grin.

“Hm yes, quite dashing if I do say so,” he said as he reached up to adjust his own pin with a fond smile. “…I never thought you were interested. I was certain I was giving off the right signals…”

“I’m a bit dense when it comes to this sort of stuff Reg.” the cyborg muttered and straightened up. “We can talk about this later, we got an idiot to rescue…”

“Ah yes, The Wall,” Reginald remembered and headed back to the airship controls. “I promise I won’t throw Henry overboard, go rest, please?”

Right cracked a warm smile, emotions practically bubbling to the surface. “Alright I’m goin’.”

Right Hand Man walked back to his room feeling lighter than he had in years, a giddy veil mixed with relief and belonging had settled around him and he welcomed it.

[astxlphe-fics]

Let me live (let me die) 

Noé and Astolfo arrive in Florence and talk about the next steps. (They’re going to warm up to each other at some point, I promise)

Chapter 2/?

Content warning : mentioned character death 

< Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 >

“What kind of lead do you have in Florence?”  

Astolfo sends the Archiviste an annoyed look over his shoulder and goes back to watching the world fly by underneath.  

His lead isn’t a fresh one. It’s several months old, and it’s not the first time he goes to Florence for it. But you must do with what you have, and since almost everything he collected during  his time as a chasseur was lost with the Paris Headquarters, he has no other choice.

A year ago, the part of the catacombs housing the Paris chasseurs’ HQ collapsed. In Astolfo’s memories, the dust falls, and when he tries to breath he coughs — it’s getting in his nose, his mouth, his eyes, he can’t breathe right. He frantically searches for someone in the crowd, trying to distinguish people from each other, looking through faces after faces, men and women in uniforms but he can’t find him. 

“Where is Marco?” 

“Astolfo?” 

“Where is he, Roland?!” 

His heart pounds as he spots more uniforms sticking from under the rubbles and suddenly, he realizes he just lost everything all over again. 

A hand on his shoulder. Astolfo jumps and his surroundings change. He’s in the airship, flying high above the French countryside, and the vampire looks at him, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. 

“Are you okay? You look pale—” 

“I’m fine,” he snaps, and waves him off. “Why do you want to know about my lead?” 

The vampire’s face goes a little red. “I was curious and, maybe I could help—” 

“I do not want your help,” Astolfo cuts. “I am unsure of how many times I will have to say it for you to understand, but I don’t need your help.” 

“Don’t want or don’t need?” 

Astolfo falls silent, and his side aches where a months old injury still feels recent. 

It’s not the first time he follows this lead, and it has made him realize how weak he truly is, how little he is without the chasseurs. The man he is looking for was seen in Italy a year ago - and was still there six months ago when Astolfo went to check if the information was still accurate.

If he isn't still in Italy, at least he knows someone who can tell him where he went. He knows a chasseur — another blow to his pride, having to rely on them after being unceremoniously kicked out, after never being wanted in the first place.

He doesn’t answer the vampire's question. He doesn’t want to answer, because he doesn’t want to admit the vampire is right, that no matter how many times he refuses help he’ll always need it. 

Anger — at himself, mostly, and at the Archiviste — courses through him, as he thinks about his own weakness.  

“I said what I said,” he snaps. “Leave me alone, I’m skilled enough to get by on my own.” 

The vampire goes quiet, but glances at him when he thinks Astolfo doesn't notice like he can see through his every pretences and Astolfo hates him for it.

They land in Florence about a day later and Noé knows, in the way Astolfo keeps pushing him away, that he is in need of help. Vanitas used to be like this, too. It’s when people like them, who try to be fiercely independent, who want to deal with everything on their own, start pulling away that you know they will need you the most. 

He wasn’t planning on sticking around once they arrived in Florence, but he doesn’t like the idea of Astolfo on his own, flirting with danger without backup. 

Vanitas would call him a bleeding heart. Maybe he is, but it doesn't bother him. He is not ashamed of doing his best to help people, even if they pretend they don’t need it. Especially, if they pretend they don’t need it. 

Not to mention, he owes it to Astolfo. They may not have parted on the best terms, but Noé still owes him large debt, and he intends to see it repaid, one day. 

(He can still feel, on the skin of his flesh arm, the pressure of Astolfo’s fingers clamped tightly around his wrist.) 

Maybe it’s now the occasion. Besides, what else is he going to do? Go back to travelling alone, sitting in trains and airships with no one but himself and followed by the ghosts of his friends ? 

“Why are you still following me?” 

“I don’t know the city at all,” Noé remarks innocently, smiling brightly. “Do you know a good hotel I could stay for a few days?” 

He asks, because since they arrived Astolfo’s steps are lighter, he moves through the streets with more confidence. The younger man tries not to let the change show, but it’s like he has an easier time breathing. 

“Fine,” he relents, with much less hostility than what Noé is used to. “I’ll take you to one.” 

As he leads him through this city he seems to know by heart, they pass by a plaza. Noé stops there, admiring the cathedral, and Astolfo’s good moods seem to make him a little more talkative than usual. 

"This is the cathedral Santa Maria del Fiore,” Astolfo explains when they walk past it. He stops, gazing up at the facade and its rose window. “The sturdiest building in Italy. It took over two centuries to build, and it survived Babel and served as a shelter for survivors.” He gazes at the building like it holds some sentimental value, and though the urge to ask is there, Noé stays quiet, afraid Astolfo will go silent if he speaks up. “It’s the very first chasseur headquarters in the world, older even than the Vatican.” 

They reach a small hotel, not so far off the cathedral. It’s so unlike what Noé thought Astolfo would choose that he makes a double take — but, to be perfectly honest, everything Astolfo has done since they set foot in Italy is so strange that he can't bring it up.

Immediately, Astolfo launches into a conversation with the receptionist, in Italian so quick Noé’s basic knowledge of the language doesn’t allow him to understand a single word of it. He’s unfailingly polite, smiling at him warmly even as he points at Noé and seems to ask if they need only one room — at least, that’s what Noé catches of the conversation. Still, it seems to work out, because he hands Astolfo a pair of keys. 

One of those makes its way into Noé’s hand. “Here is yours,” Astolfo tells him shortly, reverting to French, before shoving something else in his hands. “And a city map. Now, will you leave me alone?” 

Noé isn’t sure he wants to — both for Astolfo and for himself. Some matters are best not left alone. “Thank you,” he says, not putting his concerns into words. If Astolfo suspects Noé isn’t about to leave him on his own, he’ll try his best to escape and he doesn’t want to take the risk of losing him so quick. 

Besides, he seems to be in good moods, and he wouldn’t want to ruin it.  “Why this hotel?” he adds, trying to take advantage of said moods, since they make him more likely to answer questions. If anything, he'll get more details about what exactly he's looking for.

“It’s only a few minutes walk to the Cathedral,” Astolfo explains quickly. “I’ll be meeting with the chasseurs.” 

It makes sense — if there are people monitoring vampire activity in the human world, it's the chasseur. If Astolfo needs any kind of information, he'll probably be able to get it through them. On the other hand...

"If you aren't a chasseur anymore, how are you so sure they'll meet with you?"

Astolfo grimaces, and crosses his arms, clamming up. It’s the question Noé shouldn’t have asked. “It doesn’t mean I don’t have friends,” he hisses. “Are you done with the interrogation?” When Noé doesn’t answer, he nods briskly. “Very well. Goodbye.” 

Noé still follows him up the stairs, because their rooms are on the same floor, but Astolfo ignores him all the way up.  

When he’s alone, Murr glares at him like he’s at fault, and settles near the window. Noé follows him here, staring out at the unfamiliar city skyline. He wonders how many secrets it holds, and how many of them Astolfo knows about. 

Later in the evening, he and Murrs go to the restaurant area to get something to eat, starting to feel hungry. He orders a simple meal, and is just finished with it when he spots Astolfo crossing the lobby towards the exit. 

He doesn’t see him, but Murr is staring intently, and Noé quickly pays for his meal to follow Astolfo out of the hotel. 

If it was only a matter of travelling alone or in company, Noé could easily leave Astolfo to his own device and wait for him to be done here, but he can’t deny he’s worried.

Noé sure remembers how skilled Astolfo was in a fight, but the young man isn’t a chasseur any longer, and had to give up his weapon and the drug allowing him to reinforce himself when he lost the title. What if he gets hurt? Or worse? The local chasseurs may have been his friends, but considering the circumstances of Astolfo's departure from the chasseurs, would they allow him to fight by their side?

So many things can go wrong. Noé doesn't like Astolfo, he doubts he could ever truly like him, but he isn't about to leave him to die with no second thoughts. He's seen enough people killed because of him, because he could do nothing, and he's not allowing this to happen again. As long as he follows Astolfo around, Noé won't let him die, not like Louis, not like Vanitas, personal feelings be damned.

“Once again, why are you still following me?” 

He blinks. Astolfo is staring at him in affront, eyes angry and jaw tense, hands set firmly on his hips. That he barely reaches Noé's shoulders would make it cute if Noé hadn’t seen him commit numerous murders.  

“Are you an idiot? What part of goodbye did you not understand?” 

“How are you so sure the chasseurs here will help you?” He asks again, maybe because he needs to reassure himself, in a way, that Astolfo isn't walking straight into a death trap on his own. But instead of answering, Astolfo stiffens, pointedly not looking at him, and Noé understands. “You don’t really know, do you?” 

“The man I’m meeting is an old family friend. Since the Chevalier Ténèbre was last seen in Italy, he should be able to give me more details.” 

“The Chevalier Ténèbre?” Noé takes in chin between his fingers at the name, thinking. He is sure he has he heard it before, but he can't quite place it yet. Was Chevalier a moniker or an actual title. “This name sounds familiar—” 

“They were originally a pair of vampire brothers and thieves. Now there is only one of them left, thanks to yours truly.” He tilts his chin up, face twisting into a grim smile, and he tucks his hair behind his ear. The fanged earring sways and glints. “And Antonio can tell me where he is now.” 

“Do you want me to go with you?” 

Nowadays, human and vampire relations are slightly better than what they used to be, and Noé is fairly positive that he can walk into chasseur territory without being murdered on the spot, especially if he's with a human — as long as he doesn't cause too much trouble.

“We are not in Paris, remember?" He shakes his head. “Roland isn’t here to vouch for you.” He wrinkles his nose at the name, though it's only half-hearted.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I would say you’re worried." 

Astolfo’s mouth opens, and clicks shut, no words coming out of it. Then, he huffs. “Do as you like,” he snaps. “I don't care. Get yourself killed if you wish it, but do not get in my way.” 

[voyages-extraordinaires]

C:R ~VE~ Chapter 40

It’s about 13,000 km from Argentina to the Arctic, which means that we’ll be on this blimp for over four days.

When Cardia told me this, I felt my stomach sink so far it could’ve hit my spine.

She responds by giving me one of her brilliant smiles and helping me stand up.

“Come on,” she says. “You can’t see the land anymore.”

Shame swells through me as I cling to Cardia’s side and hobble towards the promenade windows.

“Not bad, nooooot bad...” Nemo beams as I hesitantly look out the window. “The last time you faced a view like this, you had to be carried!”

Barbicane looks at Nemo and runs a hand through his hair. “Still don’t know how you managed that one.”

Nemo pouts. “Ohhhh, ye engineer of little faaaaaaaaaaaaith! I was spurred on by a magnificent loooove power!”

Ned quickly walks over and lifts one of Nemo’s arms. “Love power can’t fix skinny-ass arms.” 

“Ohhh... that is truuuue...”

A wide smile cuts Nemo’s face as he uses his free hand to point a pistol against the harpooner’s nose. “But love power aaaaalso can’t fix a hole in the face, Mr. Land.”

“Woah woah woah!” Barbicane waves his hands and walks over, slapping Ned’s hand away from Nemo’s arm and Nemo’s gun away from Ned’s face. “Ned, hands to yourself. Nemo, where the hell were you even hiding that?!”

“Impeeeey Barbicane, a word to the wiiiise... you should have at least one gun and one bomb on your person at all times.”

“AT LEAST?!” Barbicane’s face goes pale as he begins patting down his friend.

Nemo just stands there, slumped and smiling as Barbicane begins removing several explosives from Nemo’s coat pockets.

To be honest, I’m only half-listening as all of this is going on. My eyes are captured by the sea stretching out beneath the ship from horizon to horizon. It’s a rough sea topped with white froth, its churning mesmerizing me and making me forget where I am. No matter where you view it from, the ocean is the same expanse.

It makes me relax, just a bit.

Barbicane takes a step back from the impressive pile of weaponry on the floor. Other than the aforementioned bombs (shrapnel, tear, and sleeping) and pistols, there are knives, box cutters, syringes, and vials of god-only-knows what. There’s even a small crossbow that looks like a prototype of some kind or another.

Nemo glances down at the pile, mumbling to himself as he counts everything up.

“Hmmm~ very thorough, Impeeey... but you’ve missed a few...” Nemo slowly lifts his goggles up and gives Barbicane a wink. “Care to look a little clooooser~?”

Barbicane shudders. “I think I’ll leave the ultra-invasive search to Polly-chan, thanks! Just lay off on the whole aggressive bit, won’t you? That goes for you, too, Ned... Ned?”

Ned Land is staring at Nemo’s face, his jaw slack and eyes wide.

“Oh,” Cardia smiles sympathetically. “I guess that was his first time seeing it.”

“Hrm?” Nemo peers from Cardia to Ned. “Seeing what?”

“In... Incredible...” Ned can barely form words. “I never... woulda believed it...”

Nemo tilts his head and sighs when he notices that Ned’s staring at his face. He rolls his eyes before putting his goggles back in place and muttering with a click of his tongue: “Paaaatheeeetic.”

---

The door finally clicks open after a few hours and we’re allowed to explore. The three men stick together like schoolyard chums, excitedly poring over every gear and wire that they come across. Cardia is kind enough to stay by me, teaching me the ins and outs of airship flight in a language I can understand.

But at night, Nemo always comes back to me without fail. He takes me to one of the viewing decks and we spend a long time talking about aerial navigation. He looks so happy, I can’t help but feel guilty whenever I cling to his arm at the ship’s movement.

... It doesn’t look like he minds too much, though, even when he has to steady me as we go back to our cabin. In fact, he looks downright gleeful...

I always try to stay up as long as I can, but the basic need for sleep eventually wins out over my fear, and I let myself be relaxed by Nemo’s excited humming and murmuring as he strokes my hair.

He’s always gone when I wake up, but I’m used to it by now. When it comes to airships, I don’t think the man ever sleeps!

---

My mood has improved considerably by the time the fourth day comes. It’s funny, most people would be afraid to be so far away from land and all terrestrial assistance, but I feel much better above the water. I know it sounds backwards, but I’m not questioning it. It’s nice not to feel nauseated for once.

“Say, have you noticed?” Cardia takes a step closer to me as we walk along one of the interior hallways of the airship. “The crew members have changed their uniforms.”

I take a closer look at the men walking past us. Cardia’s right, they’ve changed from plain jumpsuits into long white coats with fur-trimmed collars. They would blend perfectly into the snow, but they’re bright aliens against the metal of the ship. The eeriest piece of their uniform, though, are the circular masks they wear. With solid black eyes and flat, narrow beaks I can’t help but think of owls.

Cardia and I instinctively move closer to each other, even though the crew doesn’t even look our way.

When I look over at Cardia, her lips are drawn thin in worry.

“Cardia?”

She jumps in surprise before giving me a smile. “Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Cardia shakes her head and looks around. “Being on an airship like this, surrounded by men in masks... I guess it just reminds me a bit of Twilight.”

I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her, or what support I could possibly give, so I simply reach over and squeeze her hand.

Somewhere in the background, I register what sounds like... a stampede?

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Cardia shakes her head before patting my hand. “Really.”

“But...”

The noise is getting louder, and by the time I realize what it is, Nemo has already bounded in and thrown his arms around both Cardia and myself.

“Noooooooooo no no! That simply woooooooooon’t do!” he rubs his cheek against the wide-eyed Cardia’s. “This airship flies...”

Cardia gurgles helplessly as Nemo pulls her tighter against him and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up. “... On the wiiiiiiiiiiiiiind of friiiiiiieeeeendshiiiiiiiiiip!! So you’ll never, ever, eeeeeeeeeeever have to feel loneeeeeeeely!”

Nemo pulls away and puts his hands on Cardia’s shoulders-- she’s been yanked around so much by this point that she looks more like a rag doll than anything.

“The one similaaaarity between this place and Twilight Heaaaadquarters... is that in both places... your beloved, darling big brother is aaaaalways there to proteeeeect you!” Nemo beams.

Cardia slowly looks up at him and speaks in a deadpan expression. “Didn’t my ‘beloved, darling big brother’ perform experiments on me all the time back then...?”

Nemo ignores Cardia and yanks down the front of her cap playfully before turning to me. “And how are you handling things, myyyy deaaaar~? This cool beauty of an airship is quite smoooooth, isn’t she?”

I smile up at him. “You’re in a good mood, Nemo.”

“I’m in my eeeeeeeelement!” Nemo throws his arms into the air triumphantly. “At last, at last, at laaaaaaaaaaast I am back in the sky where I belong!! The sky is my home, much like the sea is yours!”

Before I realize it, he’s grabbed my hands and has spun me around like we’re on a playground. I’m not expecting it, and laughter bursts out of me before I can stop myself.

“Mmmnnnn~” Nemo puts his cheek on my hands and looks at me pleadingly. “Come to the bridge with me, woooon’t you?

“The bridge?”

Nemo nods.

“The bridge, where... this thing is piloted?”

Nemo’s still nodding.

“Where there’s... very big windows for maximum visibility and gauges showing exactly how high up in the air we are and... how fast we’re going... and...”

My sentence dies on my dry tongue as Nemo nods so hard that I’m afraid his goggles will fall off.

But before the chill can set into my body, Nemo wraps his thin arms around me and cradles me to his chest. He’s so warm and his excitement is so... it’s strange to say it, but it’s so... pure. His love for these ships is unsullied by the hate and bitterness that seeps into so many of his fancies.

He looks so happy.

“... All right, I’ll go with you.” I rest my cheek against his shoulder and sigh, trying to release the fear burrowing inside of me.

Nemo squeezes me tight and happily sways from one foot to the other while humming delightedly. “My cute, brave professooooooor--! I love you--!!” He releases me enough so that we can walk side by side, his arm wrapped around my waist so I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.

“Oh, Cardia--!” I turn around to look at her.

“You two go on ahead,” she smiles sympathetically at me. “I think I’ll pass this time.”

I worriedly look at her as Nemo draws me away, and she replies with a friendly wave.

If I die from sheer terror, I’m blaming her.

...

It seems strange, given the situation we’re in, but it’s nice walking with him. I can pretend that we’re just a normal couple taking an afternoon stroll instead of flying thousands of feet in the air straight into the clutches of our enemy.

I thread my arm around his waist so we’re mirroring each other, and he responds by giving my head an affectionate kiss.

When we pass the large windows, I try my best to stare at the floor and concentrate on the sound of our boots hitting metal. It works surprisingly well. Soon the hallway opens up into a gargantuan space that, judging from Nemo’s happy dance, can only be the bridge. I’m surprised by how many of the mechanisms I recognize thanks to Cardia’s lessons, so I know exactly which screens NOT to look at. I really, really don’t want to know how high we are.

“Oh-hooooo!” Nemo scrambles back over to me and watches me examine the ballonet gauges. “I’m not too surprised you ‘dove’ over here, my little submarineeeer~!”

I give him a smile. “Cardia said that this would interest me, since it’s so similar to the ballast tanks of the Harper.”

“Airships and submarines do have to control their buoyancy in similar manners... hmm... I must say myyyyy sisteeeeer does have a good head for engineeeeeering... if oooonly I had gotten hold of her sooner, I miiiiight have steered her along the same scientific path as senseeeeeeiii...”

Nemo sniffs sadly, so I pat a hand on his arm to distract him. “Don’t you think she’d look cute in a white lab coat?”

Nemo quickly looks over at me, and I can see his eyes shining behind his goggles. “Mmm--! She’d look so preeeeecious, an angel of science just like Impeeeeey Barbicane says!”

I’m pretty sure Barbicane has never called Cardia an angel “of science” specifically, but Nemo looks so happy about his ‘little sister’ that I won’t correct him.

“Hmm, but he isn’t the ooooonly one with an angel of science...” Nemo thumps my nose with the tip of his finger. “I bet you looked lovely in your white coat back at your univeeeersity...”

I look back at the ballonet gauges, smiling rather coquettishly as Nemo leans in and runs his lips over my earlobe. “Peeeersonally... I think black would suit you better.... fwee hee hee... we’d maaaatch...”

Nemo can barely take my earlobe between his teeth before we hear someone clear their throat.

“Pardon the interruption, Nemo-kun.”

My happy, teasing expression is drained immediately when I heard those words-- that voice.

I pull myself away from Nemo to look at him, at that man standing there with a warm smile, like an old friend dropping in for tea.

“Aleister!”

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 105 Review

This chapter marks the end of the arc or at least the invasion on Marley. The Survey Corps are heading home with achievements that Eren would be proud of. But at what cost is the driving theme. Whether the tactic or ploy comes with great benefits or draw the best result than any other, the responsibility lies on Eren’s hands and any price will cost him critically. This was a thrilling conclusion that blurs the thoughts of right and wrong actions that no matter what way you believed in, in the midst of war, there’s never the perfect way to escape from tragic outcome.

After a series of intense action with brutal fatalities, beat down, and all around insanity, it’s quite refreshing to sit back as we watch the Survey Corps to rendezvous to the airship. Of course, the last chapter did leave some trail of a possible shocking twist with Gabi aiming to kill, but it was going to accordingly for the most part. The chapter was more about the shortly aftermath of the battle with characters’ development. It also revealed the plot twist that was long speculated as well as a lot of consequences to be made for this effective yet suicidal plan.

What should have been a nice and charming scene is Eren reunited with his best friend, Armin, but instead, it shows the awareness of how far one has changed. It’s not that Armin decides to hate the guy or anything, because he does give out his hand to grab onto. He will always be his best friend despite of his action, but much like Mikasa’s reaction 2 chapters ago, there’s a sign of sadness. After what happened here, I hope those three have a time to reflect everything after the moment at the beach.

What’s more fitting to knock some senses or pummel to express their mood on Eren than Levi himself. I thought it was telling how Mikasa actually restrained herself from defending Eren because she knows very well that this is all Eren’s fault. That’s how much his action affected them, not even she can defend it. Levi’s quote about him being the best to kick around practically say he’s always the troublemaker that he has to deal with constantly. Something never changes.

Eren continues to challenge the fans whether he has any emotional connection with anyone when he doesn’t care to be arrested; so long he got his point across. Interesting that he is being under arrest; I wonder how that’s going to flow back at Paradis Island. It’s a clever way to set up for us to see how the current government system works. Levi can’t stand the look on Eren’s face like he got his wish. It says something when he’s the guy who talked about any road leads to its consequences.

This arc is the first for the original cast of Survey Corps to experience the state of war with the invasion, so it’s no wonder the reactions would differ from anyone. Anything else before it was more about defense and their target was solely on titans or terrorist. Now the role has switched and Jean and others are not comfortable about it. Hearing how they lost 6 lives devastated Jean like this is the first time they lost people. The real point of it addresses later on.

Floch’s reaction is interesting. The thing about his character isn’t portrayed to be dislikable by default; he’s about the other side of the outlook. While Jean and other old friends grieve over the losses, Floch look at the battle as a major victory; celebrating with everyone who agrees. Interesting to note that majority of them are new recruits. I can’t say I dislike the character because it exploit the other view that some could relate as well. It’s just how it is.

It was charming of Connie to look at the other side of war: survival. They may have to get their hands dirty, but as long as they are alive, that’s all should matter. They have been together for so long; it’s quite amazing how they managed to live this long with plenty of hellfire they’ve gone through. It was nice how they reacted like the old days, keeping themselves as humanly as possible. Oh…how I wished this wasn’t the ultimate death flag.

The cliffhanger from the last chapter suggested that Gabi will cause a plot twist and although almost everyone board the ship, it’s not over. That terrified me. I was hoping to be a bluff, similar to the previous one before that, but it was clear that she was set up to do something unthinkable from Isayama.

I was actually touched by Gabi’s hardship words after Falco stopped her. My first impression was her being angry because of the losses, which itself is understandable; however, this chapter gives me a better impression of her character. It’s not only she was angry and aim for vengeance; she was really broken up by the losses of everything. She not only lost her friends and home, she lost her sense of accomplishment. She struggled to make a name for herself and essentially make the Eldians look good for everyone.

She had to put up a tough act and gave all of her efforts to make it this far. This would explain why she was hurt that Falco was trying to steal her position to be the next Armored Titan. She came this far to make everything for the better, only to be destroyed in a single night by Eren. That is hard to argue against and I did feel bad for her, despite “that” moment in which we will definitely get to it. She does fit as the poster child for Marley as she has the perks to be a warrior. Brainwashed or not, she desire for retribution.

I also feel bad for Falco because he’s having it hard to try to make things right after Reiner encouraging or more like pressuring him. After what he believed he found hope, it’s all crushed in that very moment in the basement. He tried to persuade Gabi to stop and adjust her senses to look at both side of the coin. She tells him if he ever witnesses the war that happened at Paradis Island and since he didn’t, her belief is “if you don’t see it happen, it can’t be true.” It’s like how media would manipulate the scene by avoiding the other side that could expose the manner in which could give bad vibe.

Gabi is a serious sharpshooter to aim perfectly at the recruit eye. I know she has great accuracy in the past chapter, so this doesn’t surprise me that much. The major issue is she found a way to reach to the airship with the equipment; planning to go out with a bang. In other words, go on a suicide mission. At least she is not a fool to know that she will most likely die with her plan. It’s pretty sad that she is willing to die for the sake of vengeance at a young age no less. Her farewell to Falco is also sad, knocking senses to him that he must save her.

Falco has been a sad case after Reiner (far after) because of amount of pressure and lessons he has learned. It’s ironic that despite Eren betrayed him he was still moved by his words about equality, which got him looking at a different view. Falco seems to be developing in the path of neutrality while Gabi is developing to be Eren 2.0. It lies on his shoulder to save her, so he hops along with her to the airship. Although he speaks about the chosen one to inherit Armored Titan, it does speak volumes about their friendship. It was rather delighting. Then…we got this scene…

The main anticipation is whether Gabi will kill someone we know for a long time. Honestly, if it was just that guy outside, I would have been fine. Sucks for him, but someone has to take the fall. Once she got in, it plays the moment of truth mood, hesitating to read the next page. I was hoping she will either miss or shot another new recruit. It turns out that it’s Sasha that got shot; translation: she is the one to die. Oh why in God’s name had to be her, Isayama…

It intensified drastically when Jean was aiming to kill Gabi, all remorse thrown away. It’s most likely the fans’ reaction as well. It could have been a double kill in two meanings if it wasn’t for Falco jumping in. The way how the panel shows what could have gone is scary to think. I don’t know if I was glad or not, because Gabi has easily made herself into the number one most hated character. I can’t say I hate her honestly, but it really challenged me to not get red hot like Jean at her action.

Sasha in her dying state had me shaken. I know there are series that would go out their way to kill anyone to see fit but this is still haunting. They’re trying to save her while she speaks like she is waiting for supper. It’s always disturbing when their last words reflect their personality as a whole. Jean trying not to panic is one I can relate so much. Without going deep, I had that experience recently and it’s the worst feeling I wish to erase. I was even hurt when he starts to feel upset because his reaction towards war is murder and he despises it. Now that he’s losing his friend, he can’t help but feel tore about it. Dammit, Isayama…

Jean didn’t give in the thought of tossing the children out, though I could imagine the fans would love Gabi to be tossed out. Floch does follow orders, so I give him that, but I probably should expect for some second opinion. Speaking of her, she was losing her mind; clearly she’s hitting rock bottom. That’s more reasons to kill her off, huh. Lucky for her, I think, Jean is going to give those two to meet with their Commander and this is where we got one of the biggest revelations.

I remember how everyone theorized that the person who set a trap for Pieck and Porco was Connie due to how Pieck is familiar with the person. Isayama fooled us first of all with the fact the person wasn’t a guy at all. The beard was a fake. So who is the person then? It’s technically a new character named Yellena, who Pieck is familiar with 3 years ago. You may be thinking, “Well that was cheap. It’s a new character sure, but what’s the point of secrecy?” The main point is the tie-in to the whole mission because it was planned. By who? Zeke. She is a devotee of his and if he is the one behind it, she will work as ordered.

It’s amazing how the fans’ theory has struck homerun once again. He was being suspicious throughout the arc, so it’s not so surprising. However, we are in for many explanations behind his motive, let alone why start working together with Survey Corps. How did they come to this agreement in the first place? We last saw them fighting off in a death match in the last arc, what the hell did we miss? It’s like we skipped an arc of them making amend and become best of friends.

The worst part is how Gabi and Falco felt like they are going to get some justice for their fallen ones, including Zeke. Now that they see him in this area, not as captive no less, they feel like they have reacted to his loss for nothing. Because of everything that has happened, none of Gabi’s reaction and Falco’s torment would have happened. Okay, there will be a bit of it here and there, but not to this extent. This would have avoided poor Sasha getting shot. That all said the plan wasn’t going to be perfect anyway, but one person is to blame for “improvising.”

I give Zeke a credit though. At least he knows that the plan wasn’t going to go perfectly anyway. There’s bound to be what he calls miscalculations and there were plenty. I do like how he reacted to Gabi and Falco to be in the airship, calling them miscalculations. It does tell you how he tried to minimize the damage as much as he can and while going against Marley, he still cares for the people, at least those two. He had to improvise with an act that forced him to damage more than what they planned. Basically, it got to the level of a very convincing unexpected crisis.

Cart and Jaw Titans weren’t supposed to get involved at all, but too bad Pieck is good at sensing, which is why that part of the plan failed. It’s realistic that not all outcomes will go accordingly. I also like how you can tell Levi really hates the idea of teaming up with Zeke, the man who killed Erwin. It explains how he was frustrated when Zeke gave him the signal to “kill” him. Levi’s words always come off with a badass aura, desperate to kill his favorite one day. I look forward to Season 3 with him in the spotlight.

Despite all the hiccups in the plan, the major issue is Eren because of his suicidal plan. It is highly suggested that he is the root of this plan as he had himself to be bait, forcing the Survey Corps to react and go with the flow. He practically told them to follow his strategy or risk losing the Founding Titan to the enemy. That’s rather foul move to leave them no second thoughts. Because of him, they went in there with a huge risk.

It’s very telling how many of his comrade is losing any trust or love for him. Usually, they are annoyed but understanding and willing to help him out for the good cause. Now he is facing with everyone who is not only heartbroken like his close ones, but slowly hated. Hange said it best, “You trusted us, and we lose all trust in you.” Zeke does have a point about the outcome does favor to Eren’s strategy. They did gain the War Hammer Titan and weakened Marley along with it, but the causality on the innocent lives is severely high. If that is not a wake-up call to Eren, then the next revelation and heart breaking news is.

Sasha has passed away.

This felt like a fan fiction who decided to carry out Isayama’s old plan to kill her off earlier, at least that’s what I heard. Sadly, this is the official print. This is my wake-up call as well because it leaves the door open for a complete dark ending. Say what you want about her status role, but by this point, no one is safe. It was painful to see Armin and Mikasa crying for her, especially Mikasa. She was indifference towards her; it is for comical purposes, but it’s still sad to know how much she cared for her.

One of the most painful moments is when Eren asks Connie for her final words. Her final word is meat. As much as it is amusing to know her sendoff is what described her character, it’s downright agonizing that she never really recovered to anything more. When we last saw her, she said that word, meaning there was no hope of her survival. The icing on the cake is Jean let Eren know that this is his fault to direct this moment. If it wasn’t for him, the path could have gone differently.

As distressing it is, I’m really glad that Eren is still human, bearing any emotional attachment to his friends and loved ones. He reacted badly towards the news, now feeling the pain of unable to save a friend. The worst of all, he is responsible for her death. I can’t say he will try to change for the better now, but I hope this price he must pay will give him another outlook. It may end on a depressing note, but much like the editor’s note, life goes on.

This was a very moving chapter that probably ended the arc and if so, it was outstanding. The artwork is solid with captivating sequences and expressions that hit close to home. It’s everything that the series represents in the emotional scale: cold, depressing, anger, sadness, and regret. It also does a brilliant job on displaying the ups and downs of their action. It will forever be arguable if Eren’s strategy was the best call due to the result. Could they have done any better if Eren didn’t put himself as bait? Would they still lose the same amount of lives, if not more? There is no right or wrong answer; they can only react to the choice they made.

The chapter portrayed the humanity of everyone’s view; whether is broken will or suffering from a loss. It may be reassuring that Eren is still human and attached to his friends, but at what cost does he have to pay to put his ambition over them. Will he pursue any further or will he think over? Only time will tell. As for Sasha, I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s the end.

Rest in Peace, Sasha. The one and only Potato Girl.

[curriebelle]

Episode Ignis Feels Like Fanfiction and That’s a Good Thing

Ok so I’m having a Thought.

You know when people say something reads “like fanfiction”, and it’s meant to be a criticism? The phrase is one of those intangibles, one of those agreed-upons, where no one can define it quite accurately but everyone thinks they know what it means. Usually it’s a combination of deviation from the original tone, bleaching out character flaws and complexities, a lack of understanding of nuance, and a reverent or worshipful attitude towards old characters, moments, settings, and iconography (and iconography is just the Stuff. Star Wars iconography is lightsabers, wookies and Jedi robes).

That’s a pretty reductive description of fanfiction of course, because a lot of fanfic - whether it’s well or poorly written - doesn’t necessarily follow those patterns. Weirdly enough, saying a sequel or reboot reads “like fanfiction” often implies that the writer doesn’t understand something about the source material - that they’re oversimplifying, or they’re fanning about while failing to understand what a “good” sequel would actually require. And that’s pretty ironic, because fans - obsessive detail-hoarding, secondary-character-worshipping pastiche-crafters that they are - often know the source material better than anyone, sometimes better than the creators themselves, and they are very aware of what they are erasing or changing when they move Marvel into a fluffy coffee shop AU. 

But I’m kind of digressing, because my point is that “this feels like fanfiction” shouldn’t be seen as a criticism, but rather as a gut feeling that we need to unpack. Sometimes it leads to legitimate criticism that, while worth addressing, actually has very little to do with fanfiction. And sometimes it leads to this weird 4:30 am conclusion: Episode Ignis is when “this feels like fanfiction” should be deployed as a compliment. Spoilers onward, for both Episode Ignis and FFXV.

I’m talking specifically about the alternate ending, here, which is tantamount to an FFXV fix-it fic. In this version Ignis averts the tragic ending of FFXV, and though he prepares to sacrifice his own life to do so, it ends up costing nothing. Ignis survives with even prettier hero-scarring than he gets in the regular plot. The episode fills in a sizable story gap after Leviathan knocks Noct out, and closes a few additional plotholes (I wondered what happened to that one obnoxiously overdesigned Imperial guy: turns out Ravus stabbed him). It spends some time with likable characters (Ardyn, yeeee) and underdeveloped characters (again, Ravus). Ignis gets roughed up and drenched, loses the glasses, and I’m 90% sure the animators made his eyes bigger in the cutscenes for extra pretty. He gains maximum plotline power, and Adam Croasdell voice acts the shit out of some sassy comebacks and anguished screaming (ok, this is unrelated, but when he’s doing the regular stormbind combo, it sounds like he screams FUCK in one of his battle grunts and it makes me laugh every time). He can liberate Altissia more or less by himself, and that’s before he drives a goddamn speedboat away from pursuant megarobots. So for anyone calling Mary Sue, yes, Ignis dives headfirst into that. He basically becomes Magic James Bond.

The whole episode is also pretty blatantly queer-coded. We get a very cuddly flashback to kid Noctis, and Ignis’s vow to stand at his side. Ignis is monomaniacal when it comes to finding Noctis. Noctis eiher drops the l-word, referring directly to Ignis and the freshly fridged Lunafreya (I’m still salty about that one, sorry), or says Ignis will always be in his heart depending on the ending. There’s a fantastic gifset going around of the official couples in previous Final Fantasies (Squall and Rinoa, Tidus and Yuna) declaring the exact same thing Ignis does in the alternate ending. “Rinoa, even if the world turns on you, I’ll be your knight”. “There’s no way I’ll let Yuna go”, even if I have to break all the rules of your stupid religion. Even if it costs my own life, I won’t let you take Noctis away. The queer subtext here is one of those things where it’s purposefully vague - just enough emotional evidence and physical contact that you can read romantic feelings there if you want, but just short of an actual romance to leave interpretations open. If you’re convinced Noctis and Luna were in love, Episode Ignis probably won’t debunk that.

So Ignis and his Episode are both powerful, emotional, pretty, potentially kinda gay, and ridiculously awesome.

And honestly, it is phenomenal.

Episode Ignis is a blast to play. His combat style is very fun and quick and fluid and flashy, and the grappling hook in the first portion makes you feel superheroic. Killing Ardyn, meanwhile, makes you feel godlike. It is an incredible surge of adrenaline to take on armies and deities by your lonesome. The gameplay and narrative reflect each other here, just like they do in the base game. FFXV seems happy at first, and the combat is pretty entertaining with all the goofy combo-attacks, but that game is a tragedy. It’s all the more tragic by how fun it is to begin with, and by the end it is painful to play. Characters get older, places fall apart, people die, and you have to escort Ignis around for a chapter while he grows used to being blind and Gladio constantly bitches at you for walking too fast. The photo mechanic is introduced to break your heart later, to show you how fleeting youth and pleasure can truly be under backbreaking destiny.

And in retaliation, Episode Ignis thrives on the power of Fuck You. Long commutes by car, mundane in the moment but peaceful upon reflection decades later? Fuck You, I have a grappling hook. Sections that force you to walk slowly through a dungeon and think about what you’ve done? Fuck You, I’ve got two daggers, lightning teleportation and button-mashing hands. Musings about the ravages of time, and aching nostalgia for youth? Fuck You, Ignis is prettier than ever. A tragic ending pre-ordained by prophecy? Fuck You, Ignis is going to re-write that fate by being clever, patient, and brave enough to sacrifice his life, but double Fuck You, he gets to live as well. Bullets flying, health bar low, multiple explosions and Atlas Ripped decking airships in the background? Fuck. You. It’s time to make some fucking soup.

With all that in mind, it makes sense that people might accuse Episode Ignis of being tone-deaf, of being fanfiction in all the “bad” ways - it neglects the nuance of the original, and papers over complex themes so everything can end up hunky-dory, but I still think that’s too easy.

Here’s the thing: Episode Ignis can only exist as fanfiction - or as alternate-ending DLC, I guess. FFXV is the story of Noctis and his story has an ending and it’s horribly, horribly sad, but it’s also what the story is built around. You might find it too depressing or too grim or you might find it just right, but it is well-structured. FFXV is careful with its themes and patterns and foreshadowing.

Because of that care, Ignis screwing Ardyn’s plans out of whack and saving Noctis from his fate couldn’t occur in the main game. FFXV is not about Ignis. It’s about Noctis. And the gameplay, built as it is around creating nostalgia - photographs, long car rides, camping, friendship - wouldn’t work if the ending wasn’t agonizing enough to make you long for the good old days. Maybe Noctis didn’t have to die or maybe he did, but the ending of FFXV was always going to hurt.

FFXV is an emotional project, and that project is to make the player painfully nostalgic. With that intriguing goal achieved, Episode Ignis exists as a response, and it can never really be more than that. It’s an ending I like better, but it is an alternate ending.

If you think about it, Episode Ignis didn’t need that alternate ending. It could have existed perfectly well as a companion to FFXV, filling in a much-needed blank (and without the alternate ending that’s exactly what it does). But in making a response to FFXV instead, they challenged a lot of assumptions FFXV needed to make in order to tell its story. FFXV assumes its prophecy is the only answer, as do its characters. FFXV yanks a great deal of agency away from Ignis, Prompto and Gladio when it asks them to sit still for a decade and wait for their friend to die without hunting for an alternative

Why can’t they try something else? Why can’t they defeat their nemesis on their own terms? I mean, who the heck does Bahamut think he is, anyway? Who says the ending can’t be happy, and the future can’t be bright?

Those are exactly the questions a fanfiction writer would ask. FFXV created those questions, and Episode Ignis addresses them, but in a way that acts as more of a breach than a closure. It’s one route to a happy ending - so maybe there are more. This is also the reason I brought up the queercoding in Episode Ignis. If there is any genre that needs a complete overhaul from grimdark tragedy into happy endings, it’s the scourge that is the modern queer romance story. There are so many of those bloody stories ending in anguish or separation or suicide or displeasure, and not nearly enough fairytales. Having a tragic ending overturned by the power of queer love is an insanely empowering experience, and that’s probably why you see so many posts about how Ignis’s gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day. Episode Ignis didn’t need its queercoding any more than it needed its alternate ending, but the two make sense together: both of them are stories that people are absolutely aching for.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything quite like this - a company actively revising their story, overturning its mood, questioning its plot, granting a completely different ending, and then asking fans to pay 6.99 for it. It’s different from alternate film endings, because those are DVD extras and one always wins the theatrical release. It’s different from re-imaginings or adaptations because Episode Ignis is...just not quite that. It can’t exist on its own, unlike most remakes. Video games are always fluid texts to a certain extent, but now developers are even relinquishing the solidity of lore and cutscenes. It’s so odd.

At the decision point of Episode Ignis, you can use R1 and L1 to flip the camera back and forth, moving between a shot of Ardyn and a shot of Ignis. It’s a tiny, insignificant moment, one that almost feels like a mistake - like maybe the developers couldn’t figure out how to stage a normal shot-reverse-shot. But that moment became an oddly powerful synecdoche for what Episode Ignis was to me. If you want to look at this story from a different angle, well, go for it. Here’s another place you can point the camera. Maybe the sun will rise over there too.

[haprilona]

Descendit Lunaticus, Chapter 4

Title: Descendit Lunaticus

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Genre: Hurt/comfort Rating: M Note: This is a ‘music fic’. Each musical note symbol ( ♫ ) links to a FFXV song that adds to the mood and reading experience. You’re not required to listen to the links while reading, but I highly recommend it! This story was written mostly for the sake of playing with the atmosphere and mood, not for the plot.

I recommend you read this in AO3 as it has drawings, correct formatting etc. to enhance the reading experience. Characters: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amiticia, Aranea Highwind, Iris Amicitia Relationships: Noctis/Lunafreya, Ignis/Aranea, Prompto/Cindy Word count: 19049 Summary: When Ardyn makes Noctis choose between the Crystal and his friends, Noctis chooses his friends out of brotherly love and dooms the world. A decade later Noctis is no longer the Chosen King fighting to reclaim his throne, but a common hunter whose only purpose in life is his friends and protecting the remaining Lucian civilians from the horrors of the eternal night. One day he is reunited with someone he thought was forever out of his reach, but not in a manner he would’ve wanted.

Also at AO3 & FF.net

              ♫

Noctis sat back and watched Prompto set up his modified Drillbreaker on an elemental deposit. He covered his ears and watched as the drill sprung alive with the revving of its engine. It dug into the elemental-rich earth and drained it of its energy, similar to how his Engine Blade harvested said force from slain daemons and beasts. Next to the drill were several metal barrels meant for the harvested fuel.

The driller wore large yellow earmuffs that shielded his hearing from the loud buzzing. They were covered in doodles made with a thick tipped marker: a chocobo, a curvy monkey covered in grease – a reference to Cindy, he presumed – and the main cast from King’s Knight to name a few. Even his newly gifted garage overalls had been decorated with random inked phrases and doodles. Clearly his friend had taken the chance to vent his boredom during the long car drives on his clothes. He wondered what Cid thought of Prompto’s artistic habits.

Noctis buried his bearded chin in the collar of his coat. There were no trees near Dainse haven to cover them from the chill breeze that carried all the way from Callatein’s Plunge. The steam of his breath tickled his face. Figuring he wasn’t going to get any warmer by sitting on his backside, he removed one hand from his ear, tapped his friend’s shoulder and waited for the drilling to stop.

“Sup?” Prompto removed the tacky earmuffs and wiped his sweaty forehead.

“I’m freezing my ass off. I’m gonna take a walk.”

The freckled man looked apologetic. “Ahh. Sorry, buddy, I didn’t pack another drill with me.”

Noctis shoved his freezing hands in his pockets. “That’s ‘cause you don’t have another drill.”

Prompto grinned. “True.” He took out an empty crystal flask from his pocket, put a pipe in one of the barrels and with a turn of the tap filled the flask before casually tossing it to his friend. “Just don’t go too far. I don’t wanna get ambushed by daemons.”

Noctis caught the flask. “I’ll watch your back. Just need to get my blood flowing is all.”

With that Prompto put his earmuffs back on and switched on the drill. Noctis briskly walked further away from the ear-piercing racket.

Ignoring the phone vibrating against his thigh was becoming a habit as Noctis didn’t need to confirm the caller ID to know it was Iris. He had been avoiding her for the last two days and had yet to reveal his mistake to anyone, even Prompto. Not necessarily for the lack of wanting to – although that did play a part in his reluctance – but because he didn’t know how to bring it up.

‘Hey, Gladio. I screwed your sister.’ He wouldn’t have to worry about continuing the Lucis Caelum line after the fiercely overprotective brother was done sterilising him.

‘Ignis, do I smell like Iris? Your theory would be correct this time.’ He’d be lucky to escape with a firm lecture.

‘Prompto, you said you wanted to see me hook up with Iris��’ Definitely not what his friend had meant.

He couldn’t keep ignoring the issue forever. If he didn’t address Iris and talk this through, she would bring it up to ‘Gladdy’ and then the whole fort would know.

Bracing himself, Noctis brought the cell phone to his ear and pressed the ‘accept call’ -button. A long monotonous beep was his only reward. She must’ve hung up just as he answered. Figures. No way did he had the guts to call her himself.

With a frustrated sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket. Guess he’d just have to talk to her once they returned to the fort. Noctis noticed Umbra hiding under the van. The dog was a pathetic sight as he covered the sensitive ears with his paws to muffle Prompto's drilling.

Noctis knelt down and peered under the car. “You okay there, boy?”

The canine gritted his fangs in an ugly grimace as if commenting on the noise. Chuckling, Noctis dragged the dog out.

“Some guard dog you are. C’mon, I need to write Luna a message.”

Reluctantly Umbra allowed himself to be pulled out from under the car. The notebook was removed from its casing and flipped to a blank page. Noctis hadn’t seen her since she brought him the Carbuncle figurine and healed his arm. He wanted their next meeting to be more casual and less about saving dying birds or his sorry hide. More than anything, he wanted to actually sit down and talk with her. To her. Whatever. He could start by asking why she never spoke.

It was slightly unnerving how easily he had gotten accustomed to the unnatural. To him it was perfectly normal that he could contact his dead fiancée through an old weathered notebook that was carried by an immortal dog. It was just another day in his life when he caught brief glimpses of a white dress from his peripheral vision or when the latest injury from a daemon encounter was mysteriously healed the next morning.

He tapped the end of the pen against his bearded chin as he tried to think of a good way to invite her over.

‘I’d like to spend time with you, if your undead schedule isn’t too full.’ Nah.

‘Poor little old me misses my friendly ghost. Throw this geezer a bone and come visit?’ Hell no.

When did he become such a loser? He scratched his cheek absently. Last time she came to visit, Noctis had thanked her for saving him and expressed his longing for her presence. Maybe a good ol’ ‘I miss you’ could do the trick?

He glanced at the miserable dog and the bushy tail tugged between quivering legs. Umbra really hated that drill. Somehow he could be brave and ferocious when dealing with daemons and not be bothered at all by the racket of turrets firing right beside him, but for some reason Prompto’s drill was making him miserable. Maybe it produced some sort of high-pitched whine along with the regular buzzing that only dogs could hear.

Noctis set his pen on paper. ‘Miss you. Come visit me soon?’ Much better. Simple yet effective. He wondered how she could receive the message when the messenger refused to do his job. In the end it hardly mattered as long as it worked. He closed the book and put it back in its casing before standing up and letting Umbra inside the van. The noise was much more bearable there. Making sure the Engine Blade was securely tied to his belt, Noctis made his way back to Prompto.

              ♫

As soon as he drove the van past the gatekeeper-MT, Noctis spotted the pale figure of Little Luna balancing on top of a fence that separated the airship landing zone from the rest of the fort. A slow grin crept to his lips. She had received his message.

“Is that who I think it is?” Prompto peered through the windshield.

Noctis couldn’t keep the excitement from his tone. “Yep.”

He parked the van and stepped out. Prompto jogged off to find a trolley to move the elemental energy-filled barrels to the garage. Despite civilians and hunters alike flocking the area, Noctis could clearly see Little Luna’s white dress gently swaying in the chill breeze above the crowds. She spotted him and waved. Incontinently he waved back. He doubted people would pay any attention to him or realise he was waving at thin air – from their perspective, anyway.

He didn’t notice someone else returning his wave.

“Noct!”

His eyes fell from Little Luna to the brunette in farmer’s overalls.

“There you are. I’ve been worried about you! You haven’t answered my calls.” A strong smell of hay floated up to his nose as she came closer. Her boots were covered in mud and chocobo manure. She must’ve just returned from the farm. He could make out Talcott’s familiar flannel shirt and Hammerhead cap peeking behind passing bodies.

“Must’ve had my phone on mute”, Noctis easily lied. He didn’t want to have ‘The Talk’ in public. “Doesn’t help I’m half-deaf after hearing Prompto’s drill for an hour.”

Iris let out a relieved sigh accompanied by a small giggle. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay now. You’ve been acting strange lately and I didn’t really know what to make of it.”

“Yeah.” Noctis shifted his weight uneasily and glanced to where Little Luna had been standing. Of course she was gone. Damn it.

“Say, Noct. With all the hustle and bustle of the Market day and the daemon attack, we haven’t really had the chance to spend time together. You should ask Ignis to grant you a day off.”

A day off? It’s not like he had assigned work days; he worked when it was required. Other times he passed time with mundane activities or helping Cid with what he could. Although he rarely had to worry about boredom as Aranea was more than eager to make sure he didn’t stay inactive for long.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. “What for?”

“So we could hang out, silly!”

This could be his chance to find privacy to dissuade her of any romantic notions. He doubted she wanted an audience. He sure didn’t. But he didn’t like misleading her and giving her false hope.

Noctis nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Little Luna appear from behind Iris’ back. She settled between them and looked up, her head turning back and forth between them as if assessing the situation. Seeming to come to a conclusion, she took a step back to stand next to Iris and frowned. She ruffled her blond hair and made a valiant effort to style it similarly to his before stuffing her hands in imaginary pockets and hunching forward. Was she imitating him?

Not able to help himself, he snorted.

Ha. Ha. Very funny, you cheeky little imp.

Iris’ smile faded as confusion weighing down her pink lips. “What?”

“That’s a good idea”, he managed to say even as his lips quivered from a suppressed grin. Little Luna beamed up at him and dropped her hands from the imaginary pockets. Reaper, he had missed her. He would do anything to see her smile.

“Really? I mean, great! I’ll ask if I could get Ignis to cook us something.”

Oh crap. She was taking their social outing as a date. Not only a date, but a dinner date. Way to ruin her day by ending it with a “sorry, it’s not you, it’s me”-talk.

“Maybe that’s too much”, he tentatively cut in. “I mean, Ignis is busy with work and can’t just come down from his tower to cook a meal for random denizens.”

Iris put her dirt-covered gloved hands on her hips and glowered. A storm brewed in her hazel eyes. This could end badly. Next to her Little Luna copied her expression and pose. It was hard to concentrate with her actively trying to make him laugh. “We’re not just random denizens; we’re his friends! I’m sure he’d like to have a break and do something he actually loves for a change!”

How did he always end up in these situations?

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea”, he mumbled in defeat.

Recognising his reluctant agreement, Iris grinned at him in delight. She always got her way when it came to him, Gladio, Ignis and later Prompto. After all, she was the group’s baby sister and they had adored pampering her ever since she was a little girl. But then she reached her thirteenth year and started casting doe-eyes his way whenever they happened to be in the same room. Those two years had been highly awkward times and he had made sure never to leave Gladio’s side whenever visiting the Amicitia household. When he had complained about the youngest Amicitia’s behaviour to Ignis, the advisor-in-training assured him that it would pass and she was just having a little crush on him.

“Not so different from the one you nurture on Lady Lunafreya, I should think.”

“I-I am not!” his seventeen-year-old self had heatedly claimed, but even back then he hadn’t fooled anybody.

Those were much simpler times.

“I’ll let you know when it’s ready. And be sure to wear something nice!” Offering a final wave in parting, she joined Talcott and strolled down to the underground levels with a spring in her step.

Defeated, Noctis ran a hand through his hair in frustration before glancing at his ghostly companion. Little Luna covered her mouth to silence her muffled giggles.

“I’m glad you find this funny”, he grumbled and went to help Prompto unload the barrels from the van.

Noctis sauntered to his dorm. Iris had asked him to wear ‘something nice’. A simple request, but not one he could fulfil. His idea of nice equalled a clean hunter’s uniform, since he didn’t exactly own outfits for casual social events. Figuring he could leave the vest, scarf and weapons behind, just this once, he pulled out a clean shirt from the wardrobe. He stripped out of his coat and skull-printed shirt and carelessly tossed them on the bed. When he didn’t hear the expected rustle of cloth hitting cloth, he turned around and saw Little Luna sitting on his bunk and peering at him through the collar of his shirt. Suddenly self-conscious about his topless state, he turned his back to her and hurriedly pulled the long-sleeved black shirt on.

Little Luna dropped the shirt and coat, stood up and held one hand behind her back as if she was hiding something. She beckoned him to come closer.

“What are you up to this time, you little minx?” His grin softened the bite of his words. Hands on his hips, he stood in front of her and quizzically raised a brow.

She motioned him to turn around. Noctis frowned in suspicion, but complied with a melodramatic sigh. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I.”

Something was wrapped tightly around his neck. For a brief moment he panicked as he imagined a noose strangling him, but the expected light-headedness resulting from running out of air never came. He looked down. It was the tie he had worn with his royal raiment back in Insomnia. He turned around to glare at the little girl.

“It’s not a date. I don’t need to dress up.” Ignoring her pout, he pulled the white striped black tie off. She lowered her glassy eyes to stare at her toes. Was she seriously sulking over a tie of all things? Why did she want him to wear it so badly? He sat down next to her and fingered the silken cloth. Was it because she had expected to see him wear it while waiting for him in Altissia? Was he denying her an innocent daydream?

He loosely tied the piece of cloth around her bare neck. “You know what? If you want to see me in the suit so badly, I promise I’ll put it on for your-“, he stopped himself. Curious, she looked up at him expectantly, but he didn’t have the heart to say it out loud.

              ♫

Funeral.

Her funeral was less than two weeks away.

It had been over a month since he found Little Luna in Caem and retrieved the corpse of his fiancée from the icy waters. She remained in the same condition as when he found her; one unfocused eye staring into space, pale slime-covered skin of a recently killed victim and lacking the foul stench one would associate with a corpse. Even if she was left unattended with her body bag open, the flies didn’t appear interested enough to bother her. She was frozen in time like the flowers Little Luna had given to him. Ignis suspected her body was biologically four to six hours old after death. When Noctis had asked how he knew that, especially without his vision, Ignis told him to try clenching her fingers into a fist. Thinking nothing of it, the hunter had done as asked only to realise it was impossible.

“Rigor mortis. Causes limbs to stiffen and lasts seventy-two hours. Can occur as early as four hours post-mortem”, Ignis had explained. “Truly curious how she hasn’t proceeded past the third stage of death. Do you suppose the ghost of Lady Lunafreya you mentioned earlier could have something to do with it?”

“Definitely. I think she has everything to do with Luna’s condition.”

It was then that he had noticed her left hand. The dominant hand had been clutched as if she was holding an invisible pen. He could’ve sworn both of her hands had been in a relaxed position when he last visited her. It had made him think; had he received the notebook messages from her instead of Little Luna? Or was she truly one and the same? The black blood he had found next to the last entry pointed towards her smaller counterpart. He highly doubted the Luna in the body bag would just unzip her bag from the inside, walk to his room while he slept and write to him as well as bleed over their notebook.

Noctis carefully studied Little Luna. She didn’t seem to have any visible wounds besides the faint bruises that peeked underneath his tie. However, the Luna in the morgue still had the blackened stab wound below her right breast. He had to admit to himself that the image of Luna’s animated corpse moving around was highly unsettling. As desperate as he was to be with his fiancée and enjoy every waking moment he could steal from her younger counterpart, he couldn’t say he wanted to add more to his ever lengthening list of nightmares.

Little Luna smiled sadly as she realised what he had left unsaid. He wondered if she knew what would happen after the funeral. Would she stay with him or disappear for good? From the bittersweet turn of her lips he could tell more than he wanted to know.

“Hey.” He gently lifted her chin. “I’ll join you soon enough. You just enjoy your well-deserved break from saving my sorry behind, okay?” He tried to imagine living another thirty to forty years without her. He doubted he’d ever live to be as old as Cid. Even reaching sixties seemed highly unlikely; something was bound to kill him long before then, whether it was daemons, his own recklessness or ever elusive sanity, an illness or something as mundane as extreme case of food poisoning.

Her small hands balled into fists in her lap. It was an unpleasant conversation, but he needed to get it out of his chest and make sure she fully understood what she meant to him. “I swear I’m not meant for anyone else. What happened with Iris was a mistake and I intend to tell her that.” He took her cool hands in his and opened the fists by interlacing their fingers together. “I admit I’ve been a coward and avoided her, but I know it’s unfair to keep her in the dark.” Her troubled eyes focused slightly past him in deep thought. He wished he could somehow read her thoughts from her layered face.

Noctis released her other hand and lifted his knuckles to caress her bare shoulder. She didn’t appear to notice. There were no shivers nor did she get goosebumps on her pale skin from his feather-light touch. He scolded himself internally for expecting her to react. Their last night together should’ve made it clear to him that she was unable to enjoy his proximity in the same way he enjoyed hers. It wasn’t a mutual relationship if one could even call it one. She was always giving while he was always taking. “And it’s equally unfair to you”, he quietly added.

To his surprise Little Luna pointed at his chest and cupped her hands. She presented her open palms to him as if offering his heart back.

Creases formed on his forehead from a frown as he attempted to decipher her hand signs. “You’re saying my heart is free to let you go and move on?”

He didn’t miss how she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips to keep them from trembling or the sadness that flashed in her downcast eyes before disappearing under the curtain of her fringe. Little Luna solemnly nodded. She was serious about this. It was obvious she didn’t want to lose him, but true to her nature she would rather leave this world knowing he would be happy after she was gone. Not only did she look after him and his health, she held his happiness in high priority – even if it meant sacrificing her own.

“Idiot.”

She sharply looked up, confusion and hurt dancing in her misty gaze.

“I can’t ignore how I feel about you. It’s you or no-one.” His lips curled into a teasing smirk. “Besides, my heart has a no-return policy.”

A faint, almost unnoticeable rosy hue dusted her pale cheeks and she shyly played with the hem of her dress. Overwhelmed with adoration, he wasn’t able to resist the sudden impulse to place a hand to the nape of her neck and guide her head closer to his. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach when he saw her blond-lashed eyelids closing instinctively. His lips delicately brushed the corner of her mouth in a chaste kiss. As much as he wanted physical proximity from her that had been denied from him when she died, he didn’t dare to cross the thin line between romantic and familial intimacy. She had the appearance of a child and he was old enough to be her father. He was scared what she might think of him if he were to indulge in more passionate displays of affection.

She didn’t resist when Noctis pulled her to a tender hug and rested his bearded chin against her blond crown. Gradually she relaxed and allowed her cheek to lean against his breast. He was certain she could hear and feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Not for the first time, Noctis wished he could give Little Luna more than these fleeting moments, that he could keep his promise to her and fulfil the prophecy that everybody close to him seemed to think he was a part of. But he wasn’t a virtuous warrior of legend like Cor or a noble king like his father. He was just a broken man who had little hope of redeeming himself before the time came to face his forefathers.

Little Luna’s skinny arms wrapped around his waist. He had nearly forgotten how good it felt to be held. His eyes closed involuntarily as he exhaled in content.

His walkie-talkie buzzed.

“Oh, come on”, he grumbled in irritation.

Little Luna pulled away and fetched the bothersome device for him.

“Thanks.” He rewarded her with a quick peck on the cheek before bringing the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “State your business.”

Prompto’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, uh. Iris told me to let you know she’s waiting for you.”

“Gotcha.” He tossed the walkie-talkie next to his discarded clothes on the bed. “Guess that’s my cue. Wish me luck.”

She picked up his Carbuncle figurine from the nightstand and placed it in his palm. He turned the wooden ornament in his hand before pocketing it. “I’m not really into charms and such, but if you think this’ll help, I’ll definitely carry it around the clock.” Her encouraging smile made him feel like he was ready for anything, even to face the possibility of breaking a good friend’s heart. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Halting at the door, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Luna. When I come back, I wanna talk with you. Really sit down and talk. There’s so much I need to know.”

Glazed eyes stared past him, but she slowly nodded in acknowledgement.

“So no disappearing acts, eh?”

She pointed at the seam on her face and waved a finger in a refusal.

“All right, we’ve got a deal.” He walked back to her, lowered to his knees and offered a pinky. It reminded him of the day he had persuaded her to leave Caem behind. Her face serious, she wrapped her pinky around his and shook. “You won’t disappear on me as long as I don’t try ripping your face off. Sounds reasonable enough.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. He chuckled and left with a final parting pat on her blond head.

              ♫

He was pointed to the command tower. Aranea stood by the elevator, her heeled boot impatiently tapping against the asphalt.

“About time. I have actual work to do.” She ushered him inside the lift and placed her key card on the reader. Instead of the top floor, she pressed the third floor.

Noctis eyed the Niflheimian woman curiously. She was in full battle gear and carrying a satchel filled with potions and cooling gel patches. Her previously destroyed leg guard had been replaced. “What work?”

Her tone was taut from vexation. “A single red giant has been sighted heading our way by one of the scouts. I don’t want that thing anywhere near the fort. The walls get weaker every time we have to repair them and I’m not about to have greenhorn hunters losing their lives due to inexperience.”

“I could help”, he immediately offered.

“Thanks, but I can’t have Specs slaving over your fancy dinner date for nothing. Besides, I have Biggs and Wedge. We work better as a team than you and I. No offence.”

He internally cringed at the mention of a dinner date. “None taken.”

Aranea listened to the coordinate exchanging on the radio for a moment before briefly glimpsing at him. “Aren’t you a little under-dressed for the occasion?”

He glanced at his red-soled boots, black jeans and shirt before shrugging. “Not sure what you’re talking about. What’s so special about this event?”

The dragoon brought her gauntleted hand up as if to rub her temple, but her helmet’s visor blocked the subconscious motion. “Your date hasn’t even officially begun and already I see a red flag.”

Noctis huffed and crossed his arms. “Speak plainly, will you.”

“That Amicitia girl had Specs make you fancy food, redecorated our personal dining room for a candle-lit dinner and dolled herself up under strict guidelines of dress to impress. And then you show up in jeans. Either you’re as ignorant as Specs is blind or you’re not into her at all.”

Oh great. Now Aranea was pulling an Ignis on him. Deducing should be left for detectives only. Then again, he figured being the leaders of a settlement required some detective-skills.

“I see.”

The lift came to a stop.

“Right, I’m off. Play nice.” She pushed him out of the elevator. “Oh, and by the way, our bedroom is off-limits.”

A rather ungentleman-like retort threatened to come out of his mouth as he spun on his heel, but was cut off when the lift-door closed and blocked contact with the shameless dragoon.

With a roll of his eyes, Noctis entered the dining room. As he feared, the lights had been switched off in favour of using candles. At least they weren’t scented candles as those tended to give him headaches. He wasn’t sure if they were even a thing anymore in the post-apocalyptic world. Some people had hoarded luxury items from the old world and now made a living by selling them at ridiculous prices.

Their food waited on the table hidden beneath dome-shaped covers. He wondered where Ignis had gotten them. He was aware the blind brunet did some shady trading if the dozen boxes with dubious labels in his trailer were anything to go by.

“Noct, I thought I asked you to wear something nice.”

He turned towards the scolding voice and felt his mouth go dry.

Noctis had always been aware Iris was pretty, beautiful even as she grew older, but he wasn’t prepared to see her as she was now. Gone were the faded farmer’s overalls and dirty boots. In their place was an elegant black dress that hugged her figure in the right places. The hem of her dress barely reached her knees and exposed her toned legs. A tastefully cut neckline made it difficult for him to look at her without his gaze falling to inappropriate places. Swallowing heavily, he focused on the familiar choker and necklace that she had worn during their journey from Lestallum to Caem. Her hair had been tied up to a fancy bun that must’ve required a helping hand from a friend to achieve.

Everything about this situation felt so wrong; almost like he was intruding on a private moment that was never meant to be seen by him. It was nearly on the same level of wrong if he were to witness Prompto walking in on Luna wearing nothing but lingerie.

Awkwardly he cleared his throat. “Afraid I don’t own anything nice.”

Iris crossed her arms. Was he imagining it or was she subtly pushing her breasts up with her arms?

Reaper, kill me now.

“I know you still have your suit.”

“That’s meant for special occasions.”

              ♫

Wrong answer.

“And this isn’t?”

He scratched his head as he tried to think of something less offending to say without having to lie. “I’ll wear it only when I’m representing myself as Lucian royalty. Right now it’s just two friends spending time together. Hardly reason to put the royal raiment on.”

“Friends.” The way she said the word was as if she had taken a bite of a lemon, skin and all.

He’d have to be tactful. For one, they should eat first before bringing up the difficult subject and not waste Ignis’ efforts.

“Better not let the food get cold.” Remembering his manners, he pulled the chair for her.

They ate in silence. The mood was strained. Iris was clearly not impressed by his approach on their ‘date’. She was clever enough to realise the night wouldn’t end with a sequel to their last… session.

She daintily wiped her pink lips with a napkin and pushed her plate to signal she was done. “So, are we done beating around the bush, Noct? I can see we’re not on the same page and had totally different expectations for tonight.”

Noctis finished his meal. He made a mental note to praise Ignis’ cooking and thank him for his trouble, even if it was in vain. Setting the napkin aside, he leant forward with his hands clasped and elbows resting on the table. Time to address the catoblepas in the room. “Iris, I’ll be blunt. That night was a mistake.”

She visibly tensed, her slim fingers gripping the armrests of her chair. Her face was void of any expression as she tried to process what he had just said.

“Truth is, you found me at a very bad time and I was ready to do just about anything to forget about my problems. Had I been sober, I would’ve never agreed to sleep with you.”

Her grip tightened until her knuckles were white. “So you’re saying you used me?”

Noctis sighed and lowered his gaze. He felt terrible, but it was too late to back down. And even if he could, it would only get worse over time. Best make this as swift and painless as possible. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

He could feel Iris’ gaze boring holes into his head, but couldn’t summon the will to look up and witness her heart breaking into million pieces. His guilty conscience suffered from too many nightmares already.

Iris’ nostrils flared as her breathing grew erratic. She clenched her hands to keep them from visibly shaking, her lips quivering and voice brittle as she spoke. “Why were you in that state in the first place? What happened to make you so desperate?” She was having hard time accepting his rejection.

He couldn’t tell her about Little Luna. She would never believe him and would think he was blaming Luna for his state of mind. “I’ve been suffering from night terrors and anxiety attacks. They got worse when I returned from the mines.”

“I heard from Gladdy that you were poisoned.”

“Yes.”

Despite having the opportunity to take the easy route and blame his condition on poison, Noctis wanted to be as honest with her as he was able. He had to take responsibility over his actions and make it crystal clear to Iris that he had no intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with her.

A loud sniffle forced his attention back to her. By some basic instinct coded in male DNA, his eyes shot up to see her hazel eyes well with tears. A tear fell, then another. Panicked, he hurried to her side and dabbed at her cheeks with a napkin. Oh crap. Gladio would kill him for making her cry.

“Am I not good enough for you? Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?”

Iris and Luna. Day and night. They couldn’t be more different. Whereas Luna bottled up her pain in favour of allowing him to pursue his own happiness, Iris openly expressed her unhappiness and attempted to bargain to change his mind. He’d have to be mindful of his words, yet not give in an inch or she’d wrap him around her pinky like she did with her brother. She was cunning as a coeurl when she wanted to be.

“Iris, never question your self-worth. You’re funny, smart, sweet and easy on the eyes. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“But?”

Noctis sighed. Honest. He had to be honest. “But I can’t return your feelings.”

“Do you mean that, Noct? Am I really nothing more than just a temporary relief for you to use and forget about the next day?” She openly sobbed and wiped her eyes, but the tears just kept coming. There was no stopping the flood. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he helplessly watched her cry.

He took one of her hands and gently held it between his in an attempt to calm her down. “Of course not! Iris, you’re my friend. You’ve been my friend since I was fourteen and you will continue to be my friend for as long as you’ll have me. That’ll never change.”

Iris abruptly pulled her hand from his and stood up. “I need to go. Goodnight.” She nearly knocked the candles off the table as she made a run for the elevator. Noctis darted after her and blocked her escape at the last second. He grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her still. Cheeks burning from humiliation, she shut her eyes to block him out, but he knew she was listening. She always listened to him.

“Iris, I want you to know that this is in no way your fault or something you should feel ashamed of. I don’t want you to be stuck in an unhappy relationship with me. I know how much you’re willing to sacrifice for me, and trust me, it’s not worth it.”

Teary eyes lifted to his, followed by a dubious scoff. She still believed she could find her happily ever after with him like in the fairy tales. Somehow he had to make her understand, regardless of how bad he was at voicing his thoughts. He took a deep breath and wished he had at least a fraction of Ignis’ and Luna’s talent with speeches.

“I’m barely a shadow of the man I was ten years ago and incapable of giving you what you want from me.”  His grip on her subconsciously tightened as shame weighed his shoulders down. “I’m a walking disaster and there’s no living person on Eos that can fix me.” The only one he believed capable was dead.

“Obviously not, when you won’t let anybody close enough to try!” she cried. She was like a lovestruck teenager who refused to see him for what he was in favour of fawning over a warped, idolised version of him.

“I’m not a math problem that can be solved with time and patience”, he snapped. “Half of me died ten years ago in Altissia and the rest has rotted over time with each year I’ve failed to fulfil my supposed destiny!” His eyes blazed as anger and frustration leaked out beneath his calm and composed façade. He could barely hear his own voice past the rushing blood in his ears. “I’m not a prince from one of your romance novels.”

Painfully his fingers dug into Iris’ bare shoulders. She flinched and seemed to shrink away when for the first time she felt fear towards the man she had pined for since childhood.

As if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, Noctis froze when he realised what he was doing. Horrified, he released his hold on her. Bruises similar to the ones that permanently decorated Little Luna’s pale neck now marred Iris’ skin. Feeling light-headed, he lowered himself to the ground and covered his face in shame.

Iris sucked in a shuddering breath. He could detect sadness, disappointment, shame, fear and anger from the next three almost inaudible words. “No, you’re not.”

The elevator door opened and closed. She was gone.

He stayed on the floor and stared at his feet in a stupor. Their ‘date’ had been nothing short of a royal screw up.

              ♫

When he finally left the dining room, the candles had gone out and the floor was covered in darkness. In a daze, Noctis exited the lift and stumbled out of the tower into the cool autumn air. He could barely see in front of him or hear the clanking of patrolling MTs as they passed him.

Hey!

Not only had he ruined Iris’ night and stomped on her feelings, he had physically hurt her. He felt out of control and like he couldn’t trust himself anymore. It was one thing to ask her get over her crush on him, entirely another to expect forgiveness after physically assaulting her.

Is there anything you wanna tell me?

Could Luna even look him in the eye if she knew what he had done? How could she trust him to hold her without hurting her when he had harmed one of his dearest friends in a fit of anger? It was Balouve mines all over again. He took meagre solace in the fact that he hadn’t been armed. Reaper knows what might’ve happened.

Hey, I’m talking to you!

He bumped into something solid. Someone shoved him back. He lost his balance and fell on his backside on the hard asphalt. Large hands lifted him by the collar on his feet before he could even consider getting up on his own. His vision finally cleared enough to recognise the muscular tattooed arms and the furious scowl on his former bodyguard’s face.

“Care to tell me why my sister came back from your date in tears and with bruises?” His voice was dangerously low like a predator’s that was ready to jump on its prey.

Noctis gritted his teeth and shrugged off Gladiolus’s hold on him. “’cause I’m a fucking coward and a failure. I’m not fit for anyone, let alone your sister.” He raised his fists and settled to a fighting stance. “You here to fight? Let’s get this over with.” He was dying to let off some steam.

Gladiolus crossed his arms and stared him down, animosity twisting his mouth into a sneer. Just when Noctis thought the older man would give him a sound beating, Gladiolus slowly exhaled and forced the built up tension to dissolve. “I should knock some sense into that thick head of yours, but it ain’t worth it. Just because nobody hails you as king, doesn’t mean you can act like a brat.” Taken aback, Noctis lowered his fists.

“While you’ve been too busy moping and raiding the drug-dispensers, the rest of us have been doing the best we can to keep this fort safe.” Noctis clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. Iris must’ve told Gladiolus while he had been brooding in the command tower. He was fairly certain she had kept his secret until he removed her last reason to defend him. “You’re now one of the few remaining combat-ready hunters in this fort after the raid. So I want you to get your head out of your ass and get your act together. First thing tomorrow you’re apologising to Iris.”

Noctis squared his shoulders and evenly glared back at the older man. What little remained of his wounded pride insisted he keep stubbornly resisting, but he knew better than to argue. Instead, he opted to silently stare and channel his anger into good old fashioned passive aggression.

“Before I got here, I received a word from Aranea that there’s been increased daemon activity in the southern part of the peninsula. She’s worried another assault is imminent. So you, me and Prompto are gonna go take care of it.”

He was tempted to point out he and Prompto did just fine without him, but Noctis had known the tattooed man long enough to recognise when he was making a roundabout effort to reconcile. “Fine.”

Of course Gladiolus couldn’t just drop the issue there. He always had to have the final word. “And if you ever pull crap like this again, don’t think I won’t bring it up to Aranea and Iggy. Stealing from the medical staff is a serious crime, especially in this time and age.”

“It won’t happen again.” He had silently vowed as much after waking up to the stench of sweat and sex. Even in his dreams he had faced away from Iris as if his unconscious mind couldn’t forgive himself for the act he had committed. He could barely understand how Luna could forgive him so easily. Did she believe she didn’t have the right to feel cheated or upset, because she wasn’t part of the living world anymore?

Noctis pushed past the bodyguard and tensely made his way back to the dorm.

“See to it”, he heard Gladiolus call after him.

Prompto lifted his gaze from his tinkering when Noctis entered and shut the door behind him. The freckled man appeared to be doing monthly maintenance on his Auto Crossbow. “How did it go?”

“Pretty badly.” Noctis kicked off his boots and flopped into his bunk.

“Why? What happened?” Prompto set the machine aside and settled down next to him.

Throwing his arm over his tired eyes, Noctis exhaled loudly. “Long story short, we had a misunderstanding and I had to turn her down. We both lost our cool and I got physical with her without meaning to.”

His friend’s light blue eyes softened in sympathy. Prompto might have had only fragmented pieces of what Noctis had been through lately, but he understood the former monarch’s psyche better than most. He was willing to give Noctis the benefit of doubt and not jump into conclusions. “Have you apologised to her?”

“I will first thing tomorrow.” Suddenly realising something was missing, Noctis sat up and looked around. “Where’s Luna? And Umbra?”

Prompto shrugged. “Umbra’s doing that thing he does sometimes. Patrolling or something. Luna went with him.” He lowered his voice and smiled thinly. “I think she misses him.”

Noctis could empathise. Even with Little Luna nearby, he still missed her and longed for their days together in Tenebrae. It was not the same when they couldn’t stand on equal ground or even communicate like regular people. It was too easy to ignore the painful truth of their situation and pretend that she was as real as the other children of the fort. Only when his eyes would fall from her sweet smile to the ugly bruises on her neck or notice the mysterious seams peeking beneath her blond locks would he snap back to reality and remember the two of them were worlds apart.

At least he didn’t have to worry about Little Luna pretending he didn’t exist. He wished he could do something to make Umbra stop ignoring her. He recalled the dog noticing Little Luna when she first appeared to them, but had proceeded to treat her like thin air once Noctis discovered Luna’s corpse. Did he consider Little Luna a fake? Or was she literally like air was to him; something he knew existed, but couldn’t see and therefore took for granted until it was gone?

“Hey, Noct.” The blond hunter’s voice snapped him out of his musings.

“Yeah?”

Prompto pulled his legs to his chest and peered at Noctis. “Cindy and I have been thinking that I should move to Hammerhead. She’s busy with work and can’t make it to Fort Highwind to come visit.” He bit his lip and glanced at the nightstand where Cindy’s cap sat. “And honestly the whole long distance relationship thing kinda sucks.”

Noctis smirked. “I know that from first-hand experience.”

It had its perks. It was nice to unload all of his troublesome feelings and thoughts on paper for Luna to read and give her thoughts on when he knew he would have difficulties doing the same face to face. But mostly it was cons. He couldn’t hold her to make her feel better when she felt crushed beneath Niflheim’s thumb or squeeze her hand reassuringly and then look on in pride and adoration as the newly ascended Oracle stepped forward to provide healing to the desperate masses afflicted with the scourge.

He ruffled Prompto’s blond mop of hair. “So when are you flying out of the nest?”

“In a few days when the traders head to Leide. But don’t worry! I’ll definitely come back for the funeral. I’ve got the ride sorted out and everything.” Prompto’s eyes gleamed with giddiness and he leant closer as if about to tell a secret. “Apparently some former member of Kingsglaive is gonna attend and he lives close to Hammerhead.”

“Think I know the guy. Met him in Meldacio Stronghold while I was there with Ignis. His name is Libertus Ostium.”

Noctis had heard from Ignis in passing that the mines were cleared and Cor had already put weapon manufacturing into full production. Thinking of the children in Meldacio Stronghold and how they had wielded small knives on their person made him wish Aranea wouldn’t have to adopt a similar protocol in Fort Highwind. It was hard to imagine the care-free children of the fort wearing brown vests and carrying weapons like the grim youth of the stronghold. His imagination involuntarily conjured up an image of Little Luna wearing faded hunter’s uniform, covered in dirt and blood, her left hand clutching a short sword like a lifeline. He would have to step up and make sure they wouldn’t lose anymore hunters and that way ensure the children wouldn’t have to touch a weapon before their 18th birthday.

“I was thinking of wearing the Kingsglaive uniform in Luna’s honour at the funeral, but was worried I’d look like a fraud next to someone like Libertus.” Prompto’s gaze subconsciously fell to his covered wrist with the imprinted barcode.

Noctis pulled Prompto to a side-hug and rested his cheek against his friend’s freckled one. “If I’m allowed to wear the royal raiment, you’re definitely allowed to represent yourself as what you truly are. I’m sure Luna would agree.”

“What I truly am?” He couldn’t see Prompto’s face, but he could definitely hear the disbelief in his voice.

“You’ve proved yourself every day since we set out of Insomnia. You’re part of my guard, even if I don’t have the title to promote you to a member of the Kingsguard.” He affectionately squeezed his friend’s freckled shoulder. The upcoming mission might be their last together. He wanted Prompto to know his worth and what he meant to him before setting out to Leide. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner or a friend.”

He felt something wet touch his cheek. Pulling away, he saw Prompto embarrassedly wipe his teary eyes. “You don’t know how much it means to hear that from you”, his friend confessed with an abashed chuckle.

“I might have a vague idea.” Noctis lightly teased before sobering. “In all honesty, though, I doubt Libertus will think much of it. Specs wore the uniform while we were in the mines and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Prompto still appeared uncertain. “But he probably saw Ignis and Gladio a lot in the Citadel and knows their faces.”

“And soon he’ll know yours, too. I bet he’d like to increase his ranks and share some glaive-tricks.”

A slow grin lit up Prompto’s freckled features. “I’d like that.”

              ♫

The next morning when Noctis woke up to Prompto’s obnoxious chocobo alarm clock, he noted that Umbra hadn’t returned from his patrol. He didn’t have time to mull over it as he had to get a move on and find Iris before her assigned dorm group would go to the showers.

“Be a pal and reserve us a table. I’ll join as soon as I can.”

“Good luck”, Prompto called after him.

Iris’ dorm was at the other end of the corridor. Noctis’ and Prompto’s dorm was close to the stairs that led up to the surface level. As hunters they had to be close at hand for anything. Briskly Noctis walked past the civilians that made their way to the showers and the mess hall before continuing to their assigned work stations. Most of them ranged between ages twenty and forty. Families with children were located closer to the shelter further downstairs where civilians took refuge during daemon attacks. To Aranea the safety and defence of new generations was held paramount. She understood their importance.

Noctis approached the familiar wooden door with a tacky heart-shaped ‘welcome’-sign. Iris shared her room with Wiz’s granddaughter whom she had befriended when the Niflheim base had still been known as Fort Vaulleroy. Outside farm-related business, he hadn’t really talked with the girl much.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Just a second”, a half-hearted female voice slurred. The door cracked open and he was greeted by the sight of a barely awake Iris. He peered past her into her room and saw piles of used tissues scattered over the bunk, table and floor. She must’ve been crying all night and had barely caught any shuteye. Guilt twisted his insides.

Iris blinked several times and rubbed her face. Once she was certain her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, she fixed her slouched posture and glared at him. “What do you want?”

Noctis tried to ignore the people passing Iris’ dorm. Most of them didn’t pay them any mind, but he could feel occasional pair of eyes glancing their way in curiosity. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene.

“Can I come in?”

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “No.”

Noctis sighed and ran his hand through his messy black locks. “Look, I’m really sorry for last night. I know you were really looking forward to it-“

“Understatement of the century”, she scoffed and crossed her arms.

“-I just needed the privacy to tell you the truth. I never intended to lead you on or hurt you.”

“Well, you did.” He could see the dim light of the corridor lamps reflecting from her watery eyes. Fresh tears threatened to fall, but she choked them back. He reflexively lifted his hand to touch her arm to comfort her, but she flinched back defensively as if anticipating a strike. Clenching his jaw, he let his hand fall uselessly to his side.

“Iris, you have to understand-“

“All I understand is that you’re an asshole!” Her tone dripped from venom, her usually friendly and warm eyes flashing from hurt and anger as she pointed an accusing finger at him. “Do you have any idea how it is to feel this way about you? How much I hate myself for it?”

Noctis frowned, his eyes widening in surprise and confusion. What was she talking about?

“Fifteen years, Noctis.” Her lower lip quivered as she took in a shuddering breath. “Fifteen damn years I’ve held these feelings in. I’ve liked you since I was a kid. Even when I knew you were going to get married, I couldn’t just make my feelings go away no matter how hard I tried. And when she was gone, I thought I had been given a chance to be with you. But then you went off on your own and I heard from Gladdy that you were trying to find a way to fix everything. I admired and loved you all the more for it.”

Her long brown bangs hid her eyes as she lowered her chin and clenched her hands into fists, nails painfully digging into the skin of her palms. “But when you came back to us, you never so much as looked my way.”

Her voice cracked. “That night I thought you were opening up to me and I wanted to help you. I thought you could finally see me as a woman who loves you, not just your bodyguard’s little sister. I was a fool.”

Her shoulders slumped, the last remnants of her anger spent. Too tired to fight back, she let the tears freely stream down her cheeks. “All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the way you did when you saw Lady Lunafreya on broadcasts.”

Hesitantly Noctis took a step closer, hoping to comfort her somehow, but her shields were instantly up and she shoved him away from her. “Don’t touch me!”

He held his hands up in a peace-offer. Seeing no other way to fix this mess, he decided to tell her the truth. “Luna isn’t gone, Iris. When I retrieved her body from Caem, it wasn’t the only thing I brought with me. I’ve seen her ghost regularly. She’s the one who found the missing chocobo. Without Luna’s interference, Prompto and I would still be searching for her. She even saved me from getting ambushed during the daemon raid.”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” Iris laughed humourlessly, her timbre dripping from bitterness. “Do you think you can blame your behaviour on a dead person? You’re a bigger bastard than I thought. I’m sick and tired of your crap. Just leave me alone.” She slammed the door in his face.

              ♫

Noctis pulled the van to a stop and addressed his bodyguard without bothering to face him. “Hope you’re not thinking about keeping that leather jacket on. Gonna be a short stealth mission if you give our position away the second we’re in earshot.”

Gladiolus glared at the back of his liege’s head, but shrugged the attitude as well as the jacket off. “How far away is the territory?”

“Half a mile. We can’t alert them with the van, so we’ll have to walk the rest of the way”, Noctis explained as he checked his equipment. “We won’t be using torches, either, unless we’re forced into melee-combat.”

“Got it.”

Gladiolus reached for a pair of night vision goggles next to Prompto, but the freckled scout was quick to snatch them out of his hand.

“Woah there, big guy! This baby is off-limits.” He dropped an ordinary pair in the tattooed man’s open palm. “This one was specifically made for me. It’s far superior to the ones I lost during the raid.”

“Oh yeah? What’s so special about them?” Gladiolus humoured the younger man in hopes of dissolving some of the tension between himself and Noctis.

“Cindy made them”, Noctis stated matter-of-factly as he got out of the van. He let Umbra out and handed the potion satchel to Gladiolus.

They trekked in silence through the darkness. Umbra had taken point, his ears moving in every direction as he listened for any sounds of danger. Once they reached the forest edge, they slowed down and quietly crept past the tall pine trees. The air was crisp and slightly chilly. Noctis could hear faint chirping from high up and a persistent knocking as a woodpecker worked on a new home. As long as the birds weren’t alarmed, they could rest easy.

Umbra suddenly halted. Noctis signalled for Gladio and Prompto to stop and knelt down next to the dog. The canine’s posture remained relaxed even as his ears were pointed forward in alert. His mouth opened to pant. Noctis recognised the sign – no danger. Then why did he stop?

Prompto noticed a familiar landmark and patted Noctis’ shoulder to gain his attention. “We’ve reached the territory.”

Gladio peered into the darkness through the goggles, but couldn’t see any movement besides the flickering of the green hued image of his night vision. “I don’t see any daemons.”

Noctis ushered Umbra forward. They sidestepped fallen dry branches and walked deeper into the woods. Setting his nose on the forest ground, Umbra followed the scents to a previously discovered daemon nest.

“I think I see something”, Prompto whispered.

Noctis didn’t need the aid of the night vision to find what Prompto was referring to. The buzzing of flies and a foul smell led him to a pile of daemon manure. Next to it laid cleaned bones of a spiracorn. “They’ve been here recently.”

“Yeah.” Gladio swatted away a persistent fly that was eager to make a home in his ear. “Question is: where are they now?”

“Out hunting, maybe?” Prompto suggested.

“Not so sure.” Noctis moved the pile of bones with the tip of his boot. “The evidence suggests they’ve just eaten. There has to be some kind of den nearby.”

Gladio scanned his surroundings for any clues. “What kind of daemons did you find here before?”

“Mostly goblins and imps; the small ones that like thick vegetation”, Prompto replied. “They tend to be scattered, though. We should’ve seen at least one by now.”

Something was off. Had the daemons moved to find new hunting grounds or had they been chased away? The forest felt too empty. “Let’s move on.” Noctis rose and quietly ordered Umbra to resume the search. “We’re bound to run into them sooner or later.”

The ground softened as they continued further. The sponge-like moss silenced even Gladio’s heavy footsteps.

Umbra stiffened, his ears turning to every direction as he listened. He sniffed the air and turned to point towards their left.

“What is it?” Noctis asked. He peered into the darkness, but couldn’t distinguish anything out of ordinary.

Prompto sharply inhaled. His more advanced goggles must’ve picked on whatever had given Umbra a pause.

“What?” Gladio hissed impatiently.

Prompto licked his lips nervously and swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple popping. “I think there’s a body hanging between those two trees.”

Deeming it safe enough to switch a torch on, Noctis alerted his companions to remove the goggles to shield their vision from the sudden light. Sure enough the shaft of his torchlight revealed a small humanoid figure hanging limply in the air. On closer inspection they realised it was a goblin corpse cocooned in gossamer that hung from a large thinly weaved web.

“What happened here?” Prompto breathed.

Gladio’s tone was gruff as he eyed the unfortunate victim. “Survival of the fittest.”

“An arachne moved in and claimed the territory”, Noctis guessed. “The daemon activity the MTs took notice of was the goblins and imps leaving to find a new place to stay.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Prompto nervously fingered the straps of his Auto Crossbow. “I mean, now we have less daemons to worry about!”

Gladio grimaced and crossed his tattooed arms. “In the best case scenario we have only one arachne to worry about, but it’s highly likely that it has already laid its eggs. Soon we’ll have a whole brood of ugly spider-ladies crawling about. In the worst case scenario the goblins and imps will make a new home closer to the fort and we’ll end up having to deal with both daemon packs.”

Prompto’s optimism dimmed immediately. “Oh. That doesn’t sound good. So what do we do now?”

Noctis peered around. “We find the nest and burn it before the arachne spawns more of its kind. Aranea can deal with the small fry.”

The further they continued, the more they saw webbing covering trees and blocking the way forward. Noctis cut a path with his Engine Blade through the sticky-threaded patterns. Umbra’s nose caught a foul smell and led the trio to a dank cave. The putrid stench was even worse inside. Several half-eaten goblin corpses littered the entrance and covered the soft forest floor in fresh black blood. Flies buzzed and laid eggs on the carcasses. The decaying bodies bustled with activity as countless larvae made quick work of the daemons. Noctis wrinkled his nose in disgust. It would appear bugs made no distinction between man, beast or daemon.

He motioned his companions to stop. “Put your night vision on.” He purposely kept his torchlight on; the goggles distorted the images enough to spare Prompto from the gross sight. He was glad Little Luna had stayed behind. While she might’ve not minded – just as she had barely reacted when he had shot a chocobo right next to her – he still felt the need to protect her from life’s ugly truths, even if it may have been too late for her. She had most likely spent the past decade with nothing but her own adult self’s corpse for company. That ought to have messed with her head more than nature’s course ever could.

Noctis switched off the torchlight as they entered the surprisingly cramped cave. It could’ve easily been a lone coeurl’s den were it not for the thick webbing that covered the rocky surface. There were no signs of their target. No cocoons, no eggs-sacs, nothing.

“This can’t be right”, he muttered.

“Let’s do a thorough sweep. It might be hiding somewhere if it heard us coming”, Gladio proposed.

Umbra’s paws got stuck in the sticky gauze. With a revving of the sword’s engine, Noctis cut him free. “Wait outside and make sure we don’t get ambushed from the rear, okay?” The canine gladly made his way back, not appearing to be bothered by the stench of death and decay. As much as Noctis wanted to rely on Umbra’s superior senses, he didn’t like bringing him to places that were clearly not meant for his kind. Still, the dog remained loyal and refused to back down from challenges. The Belouve mines had proved as much.

Prompto slapped a hanging silken thread from his face. “We could just toss a firaga flask and call it a day.”

Gladio removed the greatsword from his back and tested the webbed cave-walls with it for any hidden passageways. “If the arachne isn’t here, it wouldn’t do us any good. It’d just find a new place to lay its eggs.”

“I guess.”

Noctis’ boot sank as he stepped on a thick patch of webbing, the ground seeming to stretch under his weight. He made to jump out of the unstable area, but his boots were as if glued, and he only ended up sinking further down.

“Guys-!”

“Noct!” Gladio rushed to his side.

              ♫

The net broke and he fell to a hidden room. His landing was softened by dozens of cocooned egg-sacs that were smashed under his weight with a wet squelch. He hurriedly sat up, his hands fumbling for the hilt of the Engine Blade. An unsettling thrumming coming from above made his skin crawl. He froze and held his breath.

He could hear the gaping mouths of its patellae chittering in anticipation. Very slowly, Noctis turned his head and saw the giant arachne glide down from its webbed nest with ease. It was close enough that he could see each thick spike-like hair on its curved spider-legs. Another mouth, that was located just beneath where the feminine humanoid torso began, gnashed hungrily. A bright red forked tongue slipped past its sharp fangs and tasted the air as if trying to pinpoint where its prey was hidden. The female torso attached to the spider-body turned around, its dark pink eyeballs scanning the nest for the intruder.

Another egg shattered under his weight. The arachne sharply turned towards the noise. More forked tongues stuck out from the patellae-mouths. It slowly crept towards him, clawed hands reaching blindly in front of it. Short high-pitched hiccup-like yips and squeals bubbled in the back of its throat.

Cold sweat trailed down his back as his clammy hands felt around for the Engine Blade. His shallow breathing was uncomfortably loud in his ears. The arachne picked its speed when it saw the faint movement and heard the rustling of his clothes against the broken egg-sacs. He briefly wondered if the daemon could smell fear as panic threatened to take hold of him and dull his rational thought.

Air rushed past Noctis as the clawed hand extended to grope at his face, twitching with inhuman motion and speed. It was like being stuck in a horror movie. More egg-sacs were smashed as he retreated away from the daemon. Only when his back hit the hard rock wall, did the panic subside enough to remind him of the sniper rifle that strapped to his back. Quickly he removed it and aimed.

The arachne was faster.

It swiped at his face and sent the night vision goggles flying from his head. The muzzle flash of his rifle illuminated the cave like a strobe light, momentarily displaying the arachne’s bloated body in all its disgusting glory. The bullet missed its mark. Something wet fell heavily to the cave floor and broke open. A chorus of chirping and clicking of chelicerae grew in volume. The arachne matron cackled gleefully as its thick, curved legs jabbed at the ground around him. He rolled out of harm’s way, sticky web clinging to his hunter’s uniform in the process. Too dizzy to get back on his feet unaided, he hurriedly crawled on all fours to get some distance to the daemon. Noctis nearly cut himself when his hand bumped the blade of his sword.

Using the Engine Blade as a crutch, he staggered on his feet and slashed blindly around him.

The daemon shrieked in displeasure. More wet squelches alarmed him to hatching eggs. Tiny arachnae that had yet to develop humanoid torsos swarmed his booted feet. Disgusted, he kicked away the spiders and hurriedly switched on his torchlight. The matron let out a guttural hiss and backed away from the blinding light.

For every wave of arachnelings he slashed, another egg-sac would hatch, renewing the threat. His sword-arm grew tired from the relentless exercise; he had to get out of here, but the only way was up. Gladio and Prompto hadn’t attempted to follow him down, thankfully, but they didn’t appear to be making efforts to help him out of the hell-hole, either. They must’ve been swarmed as well.

Noctis turned his attention to the matron and its angrily snapping patellae-mouths’ jaws. It was his only way out. He side-stepped and killed the arachnelings that attempted to overwhelm him. Hurriedly he sheathed his sword and took aim. The bullet flew right past the humanoid female face. The arachne matron reared back in surprise, its front spider-legs swiping at air in bewilderment. Not wasting his momentum, Noctis jumped on the daemon’s back and held on to its spiked hairpiece to avoid getting in range of its clawed hands.

The arachne thrashed around and rolled on the ground, but Noctis’ grip held. With an outraged screech, the daemon jumped out of the underground nest. Deeming it time to abandon ship, Noctis removed his other hand from the hairpiece and took hold of his sword to stab the disgusting creature’s spine. Finally the matron collapsed, its spider-legs twitching and patellae-mouths gnashing. Mustering what remaining strength he had left, Noctis beheaded the humanoid torso and impaled the arachnid lower body. Black blood splattered to his clothes and face as he removed his stained blade from the twitching corpse.

Stumbling off the daemon’s back, he paused to listen and assess the situation. A stampede of tiny insect-feet scraped the rocky wall as the arachnelings emerged from the hidden underground nest, their chelicerae clicking angrily in vengeance.

“Noct!” Prompto’s frantic cry forced his attention to his best friend.

The sight of Gladiolus lying motionless on the ground was enough to make his blood run cold. Prompto was firing his Auto Crossbow left and right, rapidly downing the overwhelming numbers of arachnelings. However he wouldn’t be able to last long – the machine was threatening to seize up if the shaking and sputtering was anything to go by. Vapor poured out of the welded joints and fogged Prompto's goggles.

“Prompto, take Gladio and get out of here. I’m burning this place down!” Noctis took out the magic flask Prompto had given him the day they had been harvesting elemental energy. It felt warm in his gloveless hand. He moved between the daemons and Prompto to cover his retreat.

When his friends were at a safe distance, Noctis backed away and threw the crystal flask. It exploded in brilliant magical flames. The shockwave sent him flying backwards, the intense heat threatening to scorch his beard and eyebrows. The flames caught the thin webbing that hung to his clothes. Panicked, he rolled violently among the larvae-infested goblin corpses in an attempt to put out the blaze, the bodies and dry lichen surrounding him inadvertently catching fire. Prompto hurried to his side and helped Noctis smother the flames.

Noctis shakily stood up with Prompto’s help and glanced down. His burnt vest was tattered beyond repair. The stench of burning corpses, manure, and vegetation hung heavily in the air.

“Here. Take this”, Prompto quietly said and offered him a potion bottle with shaking hands. Noctis quickly downed the medicine.

“What happened to Gladio?”

“I don’t know. One moment he was protecting me from the spiderlings, the next he collapsed and didn’t get up. I gave him a remedy and an elixir, but nothing’s helping.” Prompto wiped his sweaty brow and fidgeted, his body trembling from the adrenaline that insisted him to fight or flee. Noctis suspected it was thanks to the hormone that the svelte man had been able to carry their heavy-built friend to safety.

“We need to get him back to base. Help me carry him.” He took hold of the muscular man’s arms while Prompto lifted his legs. “Umbra, lead us back to the van, double time.”

              ♫

The gates had been left open for them. Noctis wasted no time driving past the MTs and parking in front of the entrance to the underground levels. Medical staff rushed to move Gladio’s still body from the backseat to a stretcher. The two scouts ran after the medics, worry lightening their steps to the point it felt like they were gliding across the long hallway to the emergency room. Startled civilians moved out of their way. Noctis didn’t even notice when Umbra skidded to a stop and ran off in the opposite direction.

Noctis and Prompto stopped in front of a large glass window. From behind it they witnessed the doctor examine Gladiolus’ unclothed body while nurses monitored his vitals through computer screens.

“How’s he doing?” They turned to see Aranea approach them, with Ignis and Iris not far behind.

Noctis ran his hand through damp bangs. “No word yet. We have no idea what caused him to collapse.”

Iris refused to acknowledge him and lifted a calloused hand to the glass, hazel eyes glued to her brother’s still form. She must be so mad at him for letting this happen to her only family. If he had been more careful, he wouldn’t have been separated from his companions and could’ve covered the bodyguard’s back. Or if he hadn’t asked Gladio to take off his jacket, he might’ve been protected. Noctis stopped when recalled Cor’s words; what ifs and buts would do him little good. This was the reality he had to deal with.

Ignis’ nostrils flared when the stench of burnt cloth carried from where Noctis was standing to his sensitive nose. “Are either of you hurt? We should have you examined, just in case.”

“I’m fine. We’re fine.” Noctis turned his back to the blind brunet and anxiously watched the medical staff inject something in Gladio’s veins.

Aranea wasn’t having any of that. “Specs is right. You could have a serious wound needing medical attention and you wouldn’t even notice it thanks to all that adrenaline pumping in your veins.” She gently put her hands on Prompto’s freckled shoulders and guided him away from the window. “C’mon. He’s not going anywhere. We’ll let you know the moment anything changes.”

Noctis clenched his jaw in defiance, his hands involuntarily clenching into tight fists. “I said I’m fine. I need to be at his side.”

“Noct, there’s nothing you can do for him right now. You can return as soon as you’ve been examined.”

He ignored his former advisor.

“You should go.” Iris’ quiet voice immediately grabbed his attention. She refused to face him and opted to keep her hard gaze firmly on the happenings of the emergency room. “You’ve caused enough problems.”

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Iris…”

Eyes burning with anger and resentment, she sharply turned to him and pointed to the exit. “Leave. Now!”

He held her gaze for a few seconds, but deemed it best to follow her wishes. “Fine.”

After the examinations, they were summoned to the infirmary. Gladio had been moved to a room the patients liked to refer to as ‘solitary confinement’ which was meant for cases with contagious diseases. Noctis noted Iris was absent, presumably to avoid him and disturbing the other patients. Ignis let the two hunters inside.

Several lamps with bright blue lights had been set around the bed to point towards the unconscious man. He was clothed in a faded hospital gown that appeared to be few sizes too small.

“So, what’s wrong with him? Why’s he held here?”

Ignis moved next to Gladio, his gloved hand fumbling as he searched for the edge of the covers. He lifted it enough for them to see. The bodyguard’s left breast, shoulder and armpit were covered in black substance. On closer inspection Noctis realised the pulsing liquid was faintly moving, almost as if attempting to hide from the burning hallowed light.

“Is that daemon blood?” Prompto hesitantly asked and instinctively backed away.

Ignis silently shook his head, the muscles around his neck tightening as he fought to keep his voice stable. “Starscourge. He is infected.”

Noctis’ breathing dwindled to shallow gasps to the point his lungs couldn’t get the oxygen they needed. He felt light-headed and stumbled backwards, hitting his shoulder against the white stone wall in the process. Prompto was at his side in an instant and helped him stay upright.

“Y-you’re joking, right? I didn’t get infected and I was there right next to him!” the blonde hunter babbled.

Denying the obvious was futile. Noctis had to know if there was anything he could do for his sworn shield. “How long-?” he managed between gasps.

“The lights are slowing the plague from entirely taking him over, but it is only a matter of time before he loses the fight and turns into a daemon.”

Noctis let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. This was all his fault. “Does Iris know?”

“Yes. She said she needed some space.”

During their conversation the plague had spread further down his arm and up his neck. The light slowed its advance, but Noctis doubted Gladio had more than two hours before the transformation was complete.

He eyed the IV that pumped fluids into his friend’s bloodstream. “What did the medics inject him with earlier?”

“I’m presuming the daemons you encountered were poisonous. The wound that’s hidden under the plague was festering and needed treatment, while the intravenous therapy is merely to correct the dehydration caused by perspiration.” Ignis let go of the covers and headed towards the door. “It is all we could do for him. Now we can only make his last hours as comfortable as possible and prepare for the worst.”

Noctis found Iris skulking outside the medical staff’s office with her ear pressed against door.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted her finger to her lips to signal silence and continued to eavesdrop. He could hear Aranea talking.

“So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing we can do to prevent the transformation?”

“If we could, we would’ve never needed an Oracle.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious. Now let’s stop wasting time and cut to the chase. How do we deal with him?”

“He is an Amicitia, is he not? The King’s Shield deserves a clean death. We could give him a drug overdose. He would die in his sleep peacefully.”

Iris covered her mouth to muffle the gasp, her wide eyes welling with tears. She stood up and hurried off. Noctis followed.

“Iris, wait.”

Abruptly she turned on her heel to face him. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. Tears glimmered between her dark lashes and served to only further irritate her bloodshot eyes. She quickly wiped her clogged nose with a dirty sleeve. Her voice cracked as she attempted to talk through the lump in her throat. “They want to kill my brother like common cattle. He deserves better than that!”

Biting her swollen lower lip, she squeezed her teary eyes shut as a sob shook her slight frame. She didn’t resist when Noctis’ warm arms wrapped around her in a loose embrace and buried her runny nose in the crook of his neck while he stroked her back. She breathed through her mouth and sniffled in an attempt to spare the collar of his shirt.

He was at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t fix the situation, but he had to support Iris somehow just as she had been there for him in his darkest moments. Returning the favour was the least he could do. “Iris, tell me what you want me to do.”

She drew a shaky breath and slowly exhaled in an attempt to gain a measure of composure. “Help me say goodbye to him.”

They entered Gladio’s room. A machine hooked to his body beeped steadily to his calm heartbeat. A lone nurse was monitoring his vitals.

One glance at Iris’ puffy eyes was enough to make Noctis take the initiative. “Excuse me, could we have a moment alone with him?”

The nurse nodded her consent and left the pair alone.

“I hate anything remotely resembling a hospital. It’s so cold and sterile in here”, Iris mumbled and rubbed her gooseflesh covered arms.

Even with the covers hiding most of Gladio’s body, they could see the black substance had spread far enough to cover most of his tattooed torso and scarred face. His blanket and hospital gown weren’t spared from the plague’s influence, either; the cloth was wet and thin and looked like it was ready to fall apart from where the black substance had seeped into it.

“Gladdy”, she hoarsely whispered and sat down next to him on the bed. Without any regard to her own safety, she tossed the covers aside to expose rest of his infected torso to the hallowed lights and took hold of his large, rapidly cooling hand.

“Iris, be careful or you might get infected, too.”

She said nothing, but her silence spoke volumes: she didn’t care. Her only family was being taken from her and the love of her life had rejected her. In mere twenty-four hours her life had turned on its head. Absently she caressed the plague-ridden hand, not minding the cold, inky substance that latched onto her hand and squelched between her fingers.

The heart monitor’s beeping quickened pace as the older Amicitia slowly came to. The left eye was entirely hidden under thick, black, twitching matter, but the other one cracked open to reveal a warm hazel eye that struggled to focus on his surroundings.

“Gladdy?”

The large fingers interlaced with her delicate ones and squeezed reassuringly.

They could see the plague had clogged his mouth and throat, but Gladio was determined to respond to her. “Good… t’ see… you, baby… sis-” He violently coughed as more rotten substance forced its way down to his lungs.

She gave him a watery smile and sniffled. “I’m here for you, Gladdy.”

He managed a weak, lopsided grin, before the lack of oxygen forced him back to unconsciousness. The hand in Iris’ grasp slackened. With a raspy sob, she lowered herself to hug her brother’s still body and quietly wept. The plague didn’t waste any time latching onto her shaking figure and weakly binding the two Amicitias together.

Noctis felt like someone was tightly holding his heart in a persistent grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He hadn’t had the chance to talk things through. He couldn’t allow his bodyguard leave this world without reconciling.

He shook the tattooed man’s uninfected side. “Gladio! No. No-no-no. You gotta wake up!”

The black webbing coated the rest of Gladio’s head and spread to his pillow and mattress. The pattern of the effervescent substance on the cushion reminded Noctis of the bloodstain and bits of brain matter that had splattered on the cave wall when he had shot the chocobo. Faint gurgling sound came from between the dying man’s parted lips as the plague fully clogged his trachea. He silently hoped his friend would be choked to death and that way sparing Iris from having to witness the people she trusted snuffing out her brother’s life.

Noctis let go of Gladio’s shoulder when the Starscourge threatened to reach his fingertips. Tears blurred his vision to the point he couldn’t distinguish his friend’s features anymore underneath the plague. He backed away to rest his back against the wall and covered his face to hide the tears. His legs gave out and he slowly fell to his knees.

              ♫

Noctis barely heard the door creak as someone entered the room. Umbra hurried to his side and pressed his wet snout against the hunter’s cheek. The dog pawed at his shirt to get his attention, but Noctis merely patted Umbra on the head and continued to stare apathetically in front of him without really seeing anything.

The quiet sound of dripping pulled his attention to Gladio’s bed. He sharply inhaled when he noticed that the plague was no longer spreading, but moving back towards its source. Over the wound rested a small pale hand. Little Luna stood next to the bed, her lips stretched to a thin line and her brows creased in concentration.

“Luna?”

Iris lifted her head from Gladio’s chest and gasped when she saw a faint flicker of movement in the still air. Slowly, as if witnessing the sunrise casting its first light over something previously hidden, she could make out a vague, ghostly figure of a small girl. She blinked and rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. The unfocused image sharpened and Iris could clearly see the girl in a white dress standing next to her, absorbing the plague.

Gradually the thick black webbing crawled away from Gladio’s tattooed skin and stained cotton. The substance made its way up the little girl’s arm and merged with her pale skin. Iris watched in mute fascination as the plague latched to her arm did the same. The wound on Gladio’s shoulder pushed out the remains of the black puss before closing and healing on its own.

Noctis’ eyes shone with gratitude and admiration as he watched the miracle unfold. Gladio would live!

Suddenly Little Luna stiffened and convulsed. Excess plague leaked out of her nostrils and mouth, staining her pale chin black. Panicked, Noctis hurried to her side and knelt down in front of her. More black blood spilled from the seams of her face and trickled down her neck. Her glassy eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed to his waiting arms.

“Luna!” He shook her and caressed a bloodied cheek, but she remained motionless. Noctis carried her to his dorm and left Iris to welcome Gladio back to the world of living. They would talk things through later.

Prompto sat in his usual spot on the top bunk, cradling his camera as he went through pictures of their great journey together. He could hardly believe they would lose a vital member of their former Crownsguard. As much as he wanted to be there for the gruff yet warm man, he couldn’t bear to see his friend in such a state. He preferred remembering Gladiolus as he was in their photos: healthy and full of life.

He blew his nose on a tissue and grimaced. His nose was red and raw from constant contact with paper, but he couldn’t stop the snot or tears. Without warning the door burst open nearly causing Prompto to tumble from his perch. The blond man watched Noctis rush in, eyes wide in fear as he set Little Luna down on his bed.

“Noct-?” Words died in Prompto’s mouth when he saw the condition she was in. “Oh no. Has she been infected, too?” He couldn’t lose another friend to the Starscourge so soon.

“No. She purged the plague from Gladio and Iris… I don’t know what’s happening to her.”

“Hold on.” Prompto uncorked a potion bottle and set it between Little Luna’s parted lips. Noctis held her nose to make sure she would swallow the healing liquid.

Instead of the desired effect, she began to splutter and choke. Noctis let go of her nose and pushed the potion bottle aside. He saw the liquid sizzle in her mouth as it touched the corruption. Little Luna coughed violently, drops of black blood flying everywhere and staining his sheets. He was instantly reminded of their notebook and the black drops that marred her last entry. Was this the reason?

Laboriously she sat up and attempted to climb out of the bed, but ended up sprawled on the floor. Supporting herself on trembling arms, shuddering and heaving, she vomited more black substance. Noctis moved his hand on her back in soothing circles. Her arms gave out and she lost her balance, her slack body hitting the stained carpet. Gently Noctis turned her around and pulled her head to rest in his lap. He wiped her blackened chin with a sleeve and brushed the damp bangs from her listless eyes.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he quietly asked. Little Luna shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as another violent cough wrecked her tiny frame. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep few black drops from spilling and staining his face and clothes. Noctis clasped her small hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

Just when he thought she wouldn’t be able to take much more, the inky substance began to move. As if pulled by an invisible force, it inched towards the seams of her face and disappeared between the barely noticeable cracks. Even the drops on his face fell and were sucked in.

Once all of the foul matter had disappeared, she opened her eyes and smiled weakly at him. He choked on a relieved laugh. She was fine. Gladio and Iris were fine.

He leant down to press his lips on her temple in a lingering, heartfelt kiss. “I don’t know how you did it, but you saved them. Thank you.”

He watched the focus dull from Little Luna’s eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed her. With utmost care, Noctis lifted her back in his bed and pulled the covers to her chin. A soft, warm smile tugged at his lips as he sat down next to her and stroked her golden head.

              ♫

A knock on the door alerted the men to a visitor. They exchanged glances. Noctis shrugged.

“It’s open!” Prompto called.

Iris stepped inside visibly disoriented as she struggled to process everything that had happened. Her gaze fell to the still figure of a pale girl resting in Noctis’ bunk.

“Is she okay?”

Prompto did a double take. “W-wait a minute. You can see her?”

Iris haltingly nodded and sat down next to Noctis.

“But how? You never saw her before even when she was right in front of you.” Noctis watched in disbelief as Iris reached out to tentatively touch the cool cardboard-like skin of Little Luna’s arm.

“I don’t know. She sort of appeared out of thin air. At first she was nothing more than a vague figure, but when I concentrated she seemed to turn solid.” Other than the nearly imperceptible twitch of her lips, Little Luna remained dead to the world even as Iris’ hand reached down to hold the girl’s small hand. “Thank you for saving my brother.” Noctis gazed at Little Luna in quiet satisfaction. Despite the blank, blue eyes staring unblinkingly into space, he had a feeling she was going to be all right.

Iris let go of the hand and turned to address the dark-haired hunter. “Noct, I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand why you couldn’t return my feelings”, she dropped her eyes to her fidgeting hands. “And honestly, I blamed you for using me and causing harm to Gladdy. There’s so much I still don’t understand, but now I realise you were telling me the truth.”

“You had the right to it. What happened to Gladio was entirely my fault.” He sighed and rubbed his face, fatigue from hours of relying on adrenaline to keep him going starting to weigh down on him. “If I had been less irresponsible and paid attention to the people around me, he wouldn’t have insisted on joining me and Prompto and none of this would’ve happened.”

A small smile curved Iris’ pink lips as she shook her head. “If he hadn’t joined you, neither you nor Prompto would have returned home. If there’s one thing my brother is good at, it’s keeping you out of harm’s way.” She grinned and poked his chest.

Noctis chuckled. “You might be onto something.”

The tension left Iris’ slim shoulders and she shifted to a more comfortable position. “The nurse told me Gladdy’s recovering well. No sign of Starscourge anywhere, even the blankets were spared! His vitals are good and they were considering moving him to the infirmary tomorrow. Would you mind if I took the radio to him?”

“Not at all. You bought it.”

“Great!” Iris reached for the handheld radio on the nightstand, but paused and gasped when something grabbed her attention. “Where did you get these? How long have you had them?” She delicately touched the vibrant blue petals of a sylleblossom.

Noctis had already forgotten about the flowers. “Luna brought them to me some time ago. I think they’re like her, only certain people seem to be able to see them.”

“What makes a person see her? Have you two always seen her?”

Prompto shrugged. “I saw her when she got out of the van with Noct and Umbra. Didn’t realise nobody else could until Aranea pretty much ignored and looked through her. I’ve tried to capture her on camera a few times, but that never worked.”

“We don’t know what caused her to become visible to you or us for that matter.”

Iris scratched her head in thought. “Have you ever asked her?”

A slight grimace soured Prompto’s freckled features. “She doesn’t really talk.”

“Why not?”

Noctis leant over Little Luna and carefully slid a finger between her chapped lips. “I’m planning on asking her, but I think I have an inkling to why she can’t.” He parted her lips open and peered into her mouth. As expected, he couldn’t see anything – not even teeth or a tongue – but thick, black oil-like substance. He wasn’t sure what to make out of this newfound information. “She’s mute”, he concluded.

“I see.” She took the handheld radio and stood up. “It’s been a rough day, huh.”

“You can say that again.”

“But I’m glad we can now put this behind us. Be sure to visit Gladdy when you’re able!” She was about to turn the handle of the door and leave, when Noctis’ voice cut her off.

“How are you going to tell Gladio about his miraculous recovery?”

Iris smiled faintly. “By telling the truth.”

              ♫

Noctis woke up to Little Luna stirring in his arms. Her glassy eyes were wide open as she took in her surroundings. He could tell she was about to do another disappearing stunt when she realised she couldn’t escape his hold.

“Do you always leave me hanging, little minx? I recall you promising not to disappear on me.”

Startled, she looked up to his kind blue eyes. Guiltily she shook her head.

“Relax. No need to be so jumpy.” He lightly stroked her bare shoulder with his thumb, but she didn’t appear any calmer. “If you’re worried about me finding about your little secret, you can rest easy.”

Confusion and worry altered on her expressive face.

“I didn’t rip your mask off or anything like that, if that’s what you’re fretting over. I promised not to, after all.” Some of the tension faded from her stiff shoulders and she allowed herself to lean into his tender embrace. “But I might have peeked inside your mouth.”

Instinctively she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips to a thin line. He now knew it was to keep the black blood – or whatever it was – from coming out of her mouth. Had her insides always been coated in it?

“I’m guessing it’s the Starscourge, since you seemed to be able to somehow absorb it from Gladio and Iris. One could come to the conclusion that you’re a daemon-” She shook her head vehemently in denial. “-But that wouldn’t make much sense considering you’re constantly in contact with the hallowed lights and don’t appear affected by them.” Rigidly she lay against him and waited for his judgement.

“So, the question is: what are you?”

He hadn’t expected an answer and was pleasantly surprised when she lifted her left hand to show him the scar on her ring-finger. I am Luna, she seemed to be saying. And he believed her.

But that didn’t answer his question. He had to think of something else that she could answer.

“Were you down in the mines with me a week ago?”

She glanced up at him, confusion written all over her face as she shook her head.

He might as well make sure he had the full picture while she was willing to indulge his curiosity. “Are there more Lunas other than you and the one in the morgue?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled in good humour from a suppressed smile. Again, she shook her head and relaxed in his arms. She must’ve thought him crazy.

He breathed out in relief. It had been just a vivid hallucination. Everything he had gone through in the mines had been created in his messed up head – or at least partially. He still couldn’t quite distinguish what had been real and what made up. She hadn’t pulled his heart out of his chest, that much was certain, and it appeared he hadn’t hurt her either. He felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders and that his conscience was slightly less tainted.

Little Luna’s skinny arms wrapped around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder and held him tightly. The unexpected show of intimacy caught him off-guard, but he happily returned the gesture nonetheless. He had a feeling it was her way of thanking him. He wasn’t sure for what, though. For accepting her despite the lack of oral hygiene? His lips twitched with dry humour. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and allowed her close proximity to lull him back to a blissfully dreamless sleep.

              ♫

The line to the mess hall was moving unusually slowly – something about visitors from Leide disrupting the carefully planned schedules according to Prompto. Not that Noctis minded too much. He wasn’t exactly starving to death, but he had hoped to bring Gladio some proper food. Who was he kidding? Iris more than likely already had that covered. He merely wanted to do something nice for his bodyguard to lessen the inevitable awkwardness.

A loud stage-whisper caught his attention. Little Luna stood outside the hall next to Umbra whose notebook holster had been replaced with a package.

He nudged Prompto’s side. “Be right back.”

The way Little Luna covertly checked if the coast was clear before presenting the box made him think of a shady drug dealer. The silly mental image made his lips twitch from a suppressed grin.

“What’s this?”

Curious, he lifted the lid of the box and was greeted by the alluring scent of freshly baked goods. It was an ulwaat berry tart, the dish he had fallen in love with during his stay in Tenebrae. He could tell it wasn’t quite the same as the ones he had enjoyed as a child, which was most likely due to lack of required ingredients. The trade wasn’t what it used to be and fresh bread was unheard of outside Lestallum and Altissia. But its lack of authenticity hardly mattered when the tart was fresh and made his mouth water. Next to it was a note.

‘Give my regards to master Amicitia.

PS. I might have had to borrow your gil, for I believe supporting the local industries is essential.’

Noctis snorted. Nobody would’ve noticed if she stole a single pastry from a busy bakery, yet she couldn’t bring herself to steal even with the obvious advantages at her disposal.

“You should come with us and give it to him yourself. If nothing else, it’d be funny to see his reaction to a floating box. It’s not like he doesn’t know of your existence.”

Little Luna placed her hands on her hips and glared at him in disapproval. He held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. No frightening recovering patients, I get it.” She nodded importantly in agreement. “But you can’t deny you’ve thought about it once or twice. I know you better than you think.”

Glassy eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment. A hearty laugh rumbled in his chest.

“I knew it. C’mon, let’s take this to Gladio.”

A passing hunter gave him a funny look before turning to nudge his friend’s side, but Noctis paid them no mind. He had less than a week before Luna’s funeral and wasn’t about to let anything ruin his final days with her.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

“Hey, we came as fast as we could”, Prompto protested and set down the tray piled with food in the recovering man’s lap for emphasis. “Can’t have a comeback party without goodies.”

The IV had been removed from Gladio’s arm. Iris had sewn him a temporary hospital gown that looked far more comfortable than what he had previously worn. His long, brown hair looked like it had been recently washed. He must’ve been to the showers with some extra help, but couldn’t stay out of bed for extended periods of time. She had also brought him several spare pillows to make his stay as comfortable as possible. Other than the obvious fatigue from the recent trials, he appeared to be healthy as a spiracorn.

Noctis’ voice was quiet as he clasped the older man’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you.” He blinked away the tears that threatened to well in his eyes. He was determined not to make this into another emotionally draining ordeal. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

There was no hint of resentment in his warm hazel eyes as Gladio’s large hand reached up to clasp his liege’s. “Glad to see you’ve got your head sorted out. Iris told me everything.” He turned his attention to the little girl hiding behind the dark-haired scout. “Who’s this?”

“There’s someone I want to introduce to you.” Noctis grinned and gently ushered her forward, his arms warm and reassuring around her small frame. “Meet Luna.”

Gladio gaped at her in disbelief before embarrassedly admitting: “When Iris told me Lady Lunafreya’s mute ghost healed me, I kinda expected her to look older than that.”

Noctis awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another while Little Luna’s gaze fell to stare at her toes. “Yeah, uh, I can’t really explain that. I don’t think it’s something she chose.”

Prompto shamelessly stole a biscuit from Gladio’s tray and munched on it thoughtfully as he voiced what all three of them had been thinking. “So, how come only we can see her?”

Gladio studied the pale girl, taking note of her unfocused, pupilless eyes and her slightly, well, dead appearance for lack of better word. It unnerved him to see Noctis so easily holding her like she was some prized porcelain doll. He suspected the former monarch had spent too much time with the dead to realise how abnormal and absurd the whole situation was. You don’t just casually hold your deceased lover’s animated corpse in your arms like that, no matter how alive it appeared to be. “Is it because we’ve all been healed by her?”

Prompto ignored the tattooed man’s disapproving glare as he spoke with his mouth full of food. “She never healed me. Besides Noct could see her before she healed him.”

“Actually”, Noctis cut in. “The first time she healed me was in Altissia before she died, but that’s beside the point.”

Gladio contemplatively stroked his beard. “What else do we have exclusively in common?”

Noctis thought of the black substance that coated the inside of Luna’s mouth and the bruises that marred her frail neck. He remembered how the imps hadn’t hesitated attacking her when they caught her in their sights. All of it had to be somehow connected. Then he remembered Iris. “All of us have been in contact with the plague. Iris could see Luna only after she had been infected.”

Prompto uncertainly wriggled his hands in his lap and bit his lip. “So you think I’ve been in contact with it, too? I mean, I’ve never been infected. Not even when I was right next to Gladio when he got infected.”

Noctis tapped his chin and frowned. “Do you think it’s possible you might’ve been in contact with it without getting infected? Weren’t you engineered to become an MT? You might’ve had a brief contact with it in the laboratories.”

Prompto tilted his head and pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, but wouldn’t that mean I’d get infected more easily?”

The dark-haired scout hopelessly shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just throwing out ideas. So far it makes the most sense to me.”

They sat and ate in silence. A cheery Lestallumian melody played from the radio sitting next to Gladio’s bed. While the three hunters had been debating, Little Luna had quietly withdrawn and huddled next to Umbra who obediently sat in the hallway as not to violate the ‘no animals allowed in the infirmary’-regulation. Her fingers combed through the happily panting dog’s shaggy fur. Noctis figured she might’ve felt a little unnerved by all the attention she was receiving lately. She was too used to being ignored and had spent too many years on her own.

Prompto broke the silence. “Y’know, it was kinda nice being back together for that mission. Would’ve been like in the good old days if Ignis had been with us.”

Gladio’s eyes glazed wistfully. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

Noctis noticed Little Luna was looking at him with a funny look on her face. He couldn’t quite decipher what was going inside that enigmatic mind of hers. It was times like these that he realised she really was older than what she appeared to be. It was almost like she was burdened by something he couldn’t understand. She broke the eye contact before he could come to any conclusion.

Returning to the conversation at hand, Noctis nudged his best friend’s side teasingly. “So, you heading to Hammerhead to get away from ‘paw-paw’?”

A faint blush dusted Prompto’s freckled cheeks, but he hid it with an easy grin. “Nah, I called Cindy and we agreed to meet up for the funeral. She got Takka’s kid to cover for her.”

Noctis didn’t miss how Little Luna tensed and tried her best not to appear to be eavesdropping. What a bummer. It must’ve been so strange for her to hear people casually talking about her funeral. He decided then and there that he’d spend the rest of the week making her forget about all the doom and gloom and just enjoy their time together.

Neither Gladio nor Prompto noticed the change in Little Luna’s body language. Then again, Noctis liked to think he had gotten pretty good at it. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could definitely read her emotions like an open book.

Prompto’s happy chatter brought him back from his musings. “Besides, we’re not in that much of a hurry. With Gladio here bedridden, it’s the perfect time to do some catching up and playing cards together like we used to. Might even get Ignis to join us if I practise my kicked puppy impression hard enough.”

Gladio licked the ulwaat berry jam from his fingers and chuckled. “You do realise that won’t work when he’s blind, right?”

“I think he meant he’s gonna try sucking up to Aranea.”

“Hey!” Prompto objected.

“What? That’s what you said.”

“I prefer the term ‘winning her over’.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

              ♫

He ran like he was late for his dorm-group’s assigned supper. Some people might have called him immature, while others might’ve thought him to be plain insane. Noctis hardly cared when he saw the wide smile lit up Little Luna’s pale features, her shoulder-length hair and white dress dancing in the breeze as they rushed past the denizens of the fort.

He had borrowed a trolley from the garage and used it to push Little Luna around at high speed. She clung to its rails and beamed at him through the curtain of tangled blond locks.

They had spent the last few days together doing silly activities such as this whenever his schedule permitted. Anything worked as long as it kept a smile plastered on her face and brought them memories of their time together in Tenebrae. Their current activity had been inspired by their memory of Luna pushing his wheelchair around the Fenestala manor. Noctis still remembered the shocked and appalled faces of the servants as their dignified princess had thrown her manners out of the window, just to make the sick Lucian boy laugh.

As promised, she hadn’t disappeared on him, not once. Every night she lay in his arms, not really sleeping – he suspected she never did – and kept him safe from the recurring nightmares. He would fall asleep to the comforting weight of her slight body draped over his, her cool hand absently caressing his coarse cheek. Prompto had jokingly asked if he could borrow her when he saw how positively her presence affected the former monarch’s mental well-being. Noctis knew his best friend was still shaken after what had happened to Gladio. To their surprise, the little girl hadn’t hesitated hugging Prompto. It became a habit of hers to hug him every night before retiring to Noctis’ bed. The sight of Little Luna holding Prompto’s middle was heart-warming and only served to remind him how much she cared about all of them, even the ones she had hardly known in her life.

Each morning she followed Umbra around the fort while the two hunters showered and ate. She would even join them in their reconnaissance scouting. While she was never in any real danger, thanks to her ability to disappear at will, Noctis still liked to keep a careful eye on her to make sure no daemons would harm her. Even though he hardly considered these missions something he wanted to share with her, he could tell she was happy to see his everyday life and be a part of it.

Gently he slowed their ride to a stop.

“Better head for the airship landing and make it look like I’m actually doing something with this.”

Little Luna covered her mouth and silently giggled. She always appeared so self-conscious about opening her mouth; he couldn’t help but wonder if she constantly worried about spilling the plague. If that was the case it was most likely just because she didn’t want to disgust him rather than actually fearing about infecting someone.

Something hit the asphalt with a muffled clatter. Little Luna hopped off the trolley and lifted the item for him. It was the wooden Carbuncle. He had forgotten he still carried it in his pocket.

“Y’know, I think this might’ve actually helped. Just a week ago everything was a wreck and look at us now.” He grinned and playfully tickled her cheek with the wooden figurine’s snout.

She half-heartedly swatted his hand away, her wide grin diminishing into a soft, almost bittersweet smile as she nodded in agreement.

His smile faded, a worried frown taking its place. “What’s that look for?”

Little Luna shook her head as if dismissing the matter. Now he was positive something was wrong. His frown deepened. With a faint, teasing grin, she attempted to diffuse the situation by imitated his expression just like she had back with Iris. No frowning. His lips twitched in good humour, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily.

“You might wanna reconsider answering my question. Otherwise I might be inclined to demand you pay back the tart-gil you stole.”

Little Luna feigned shock and slumped her head and narrow shoulders in defeat. Her hand rose and beckoned him to come closer, even as the rest of her remained hunched over. Obediently he knelt in front of her and expectantly looked up to her downcast eyes. Noctis nearly lost his balance when the scrawny girl pounced on him, arms wrapping around his neck and chapped lips brushing against his bearded cheek.

“H-hey!”

She hid her face in the crook of his neck and held him tightly, almost as if expecting something to come and pull her away from him. He reassuringly stroked her back and hair, unsure what caused this sudden – yet very much welcome – display of affection.

When she pulled away, he noted her glassy eyes appeared to be more reflective than normally. It was then that he realised he had never seen her cry. He lifted his hand to her pale cheek and waited with baited breath for the first tear to fall, but nothing happened. Was he imagining things? She leant into his touch and briefly closed her eyes before shyly withdrawing.

Not quite ready to let the moment pass, he leant forward to caress the tip of her nose with his and kissed her cheek. Flustered, she grabbed his hand and pulled him on the trolley.

“What are you-“

He had forgotten how strong she could be.

Something was off.

He felt like something important was missing, something essential. Something that was part of him.

Drowsily he yawned and stretched the kinks from his stiff muscles. As he slowly came to, he realised his bunk felt more spacious than usual. His hand felt around for the familiar chilly body, but found nothing. Panic twisted his insides and his heart skipped a beat as he sat up, hoping she was still nearby. He scanned the room, peeked into Prompto’s bunk and checked under his own bed, but didn’t find even a hair from her golden head to indicate she had been there. Little Luna was gone.

Before he could start thinking about forming a one-man search party, something blue caught his eye and he turned around to find a single sylleblossom placed next to his pillow. He noticed the royal raiment had been placed over the bed’s headboard. Then he remembered.

Tomorrow was her funeral. Tomorrow the illusion would shatter and he would be forced back to bleak reality. He would spend the rest of his life apart from the person he longed to be with the most.

With a faint, bittersweet smile he inhaled the flower’s sweet scent.

All good things come to an end, huh.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XXVII

A few hours ticked by as they continued to traverse the snowy landscape. Night was beginning to creep over Eos and it would be dangerous to travel. Prompto and (Y/n) located a hut like the previous one, but this time it was much smaller. They dismounted the snowmobile and headed inside for the night.

The hut only had a bed, desk, and fireplace to offer. The guardian found some blankets underneath the bed, brushing off the dust that had collected on them. Then, she closed the small window and locked the door. Hearing a loud 'thud,' she turned around to find a shirtless Prompto sprawled out on the floor. He was missing one of his boots. "Y'know, it would be easier to take your boots off if you sat on the bed."

Prompto lifted his head. "I knew that..."

"And why're you taking your clothes off? You'd be warmer with them on."

He looked away, cheeks turning red. "I-I, uh..." He cleared his throat. "Th-They say skin-to-skin contact is a good way to get warm."

She knew he only wanted to touch her and decided to tease him. "Why would we do that when we have a perfectly good fireplace here with plenty of wood?" She walked over to the fireplace, tossing a few logs into it and setting them ablaze with a minuscule fire spell. Even that was enough to cause her to become dizzy. Shaking her head, she turned back to Prompto as he was now sitting on the edge of the bed. "See? Warmth."

"Oh, c'mon, (Y/n)!" Prompto whined. "You're totally ruining the mood..."

She kept herself from smirking. "There's a mood?"

With a groan, Prompto flopped down on his back. (Y/n) grinned from ear to ear as she walked over to him. She sat down beside him. "I'm only teasing you, Prom. I already know what you want, but make sure to keep your pants on. It really would be bad if you took off all your clothes, especially since the temperature drops at night." She grabbed the blankets and threw one across the boy once he was lying down properly on the bed. She grinned in amusement when he lifted the blanket and patted the space beside him. It wasn't necessary for her to think about it and she climbed into the bed with her back facing him.

Prompto wrapped the blanket around both of them. He snuggled up closer to her, slinging one arm around her waist. He placed a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "I will never get over how warm you are. We should've slept together sooner."

"You say that now, but wait 'til we're somewhere hot. You'll be sweating bullets in no time," (Y/n) remarked.

"I can handle a sweat bath if it means I get to hold you."

She laughed lightly at his words. "Look at you being all mushy."

Prompto smiled. "You know you love it."

"Maybe," she snickered. "Now get some rest."

They both fell asleep a few minutes later.

However, their peaceful slumber was ruined as the sun peaked above the horizon. (Y/n) woke up when she could hear the low humming of airships. She crawled out of Prompto's embrace and hopped to her feet. She extinguished the already dying flames in the fireplace before quickly waking up the boy. "Prompto, we need to go."

Prompto's eyes opened, a groan slipping past his lips. "What's wrong, (Y/n)?"

"I hear airships. I don't know if they've found us, but I rather not stick around to find out."

At her explanation, the marksman flew out of bed and promptly put his clothes back on. As he was sliding his boots on, the sounds of the airships were much closer. He grabbed his pistol just as they heard a taunting voice from outside the door accompanied by knocking. "Do open up. It would be a futile endeavor to slip away."

Prompto and (Y/n) froze at hearing Ardyn's voice. They both remained quiet, gazes locked with each other's in a silent debate on what to do next. They were both still exhausted from yesterday and wouldn't be able to fight their way through a horde of imperial forces.

Backing away from the door, the couple prepared themselves for the enemies that would be pouring into the hut in mere seconds. If they could fight through a few soldiers to make it outside, it's possible they could make a quick escape either on the snowmobile or if (Y/n) transformed. Both their hearts were racing a mile a minute as they tried to weigh their options.

Suddenly, the door was kicked in by an imperial soldier. Prompto immediately raises his pistol and shot them in the head. He fired round after round as more soldiers tried to enter the hut. (Y/n) set a few ablaze, but she was still weakened from using too much magic yesterday. They tried to make an opening to escape, but there were too many enemies and were overpowered.

A soldier disarmed Prompto by ramming the stock of their gun into his gut. The blonde's grasp on his pistol slipped as he crumpled to his knees. (Y/n) tried to summon her sword to help him, but a trooper smacked her in the face with their gun. She fell to the floor, her vision blurry and a single trail of blood trickling down from the fresh cut on her forehead. More shoulders flooded into the small hut to help their comrades drag the two outside.

The two soldiers restraining Prompto forced him down to his knees into the snow. Across the way, (Y/n) was being restrained in the same position. The boy looked up, glaring at Ardyn as he walked between him and the guardian. "The hell do you want?" Prompto spat.

"Come now, dear boy. Did you honestly believe your actions would go unpunished?" The chancellor retorted. "And I do believe I've the perfect punishment for both of you. Take them to separate airships, and do be doubly sure to sedate the guardian. It'd be troublesome if she were to break free before we return to Gralea."

"You bastards just love your sedatives," (Y/n) hissed. Turning her head slightly, she saw one of the soldiers restraining her reveal a syringe gun. She gritted her teeth and wouldn't go without a fight. Using what little magic she had left, she burned the two soldiers and broke free. She pushed herself off the snowy ground and onto her feet. Readying another fire spell, she set her sights on the two troopers restraining Prompto.

Just as the sphere of flames manifested in her palm, the sound of a single gunshot rang out. A sharp pain tore threw her back, causing her to gasp. The fireball vanished as she stumbled forward. Looking down, she saw the hole in her abdomen from where the bullet exited her body. Pressing a hand against it, she desperately tried to stop the bleeding. Her vision was blurry and the sound of Prompto desperately calling out her name was fuzzy, almost as if he was far away.

(Y/n)'s body collapsed in the snow, blood tainting the pure white a deep crimson. Through her blurry vision, she saw Ardyn kneeling next to her. He clicked his tongue a few times. "I was hoping such extreme measure would be misappropriate. It seems I was sorely mistaken." He stood up and gestures to the soldiers who she burnt. "Be doubly sure to treat her delicately. It'd be a shame if she were to perish before her meeting with the devourer."

Prompto struggled against the men restraining him. He continued to shout the girl's name repeatedly as his anger and desperation skyrocketed. He managed to get to his feet and dig his heels into the snow, but his foothold didn't last long. One soldier walked up from behind and kicked his back, forcing him to the ground. He grunted as his body fell into the snow and felt a knee digging into his back. The feeling of metal handcuffs being secured around his wrists didn't mark the end of his struggle. He only grew even more desperate when his eyes landed on the bloodied snow.

The two soldiers that had dragged him out of the hut yanked Prompto to his feet and started escorting him to an airship. He continued to fight against them, trying to dig his boots into the snow. "Dammit, don't touch me!" His eyes drifted over to (Y/n), whose bloodied body was haphazardly being dragged through the snow by her arms. Ardyn, although seeing the rough treatment after distinctly giving the soldiers orders to not treat her roughly, said nothing.

"(Y/n)!" Prompto bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Let her go!"

Ardyn only smiled in amusement, watching the desperate and furious marksman be dragged aboard one of the airships. He held up his hands as the two airships containing his newest prizes flew in the direction of Gralea. "All the pieces are nearly assembled." With a small chuckle, he boarded the third airship and returned to the capital of the empire.

<————————————————<<<<<

Inside Zegnautus Keep, Prompto was stripped of his winter attire and was back in his tank top, leather vest, and normal boots. He was thrown into a cell, where he grabbed the bars and occasionally yelled out for anyone. His anger hasn't subsided and he only grew more enraged as minutes turned into hours. Along with the fury boiling inside his veins was worry for (Y/n). Every few minutes, he would glance down at the gemstone bracelet to ensure it still contained its normal luster and undefiled surface.

After six hours of screaming, Prompto exhausted himself. He slumped against the cold metal bars of the cell, staring up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he recalled one of his many memories with the girl.

•••••

A young, somewhat chubby Prompto around the age of six ran towards the nearest convenience store to secure some first-aid items. With the money his adopted parents gave him, he snuck out of the house with (Y/n) to go to a nearby park to play. While playing, the ten-year-old girl tripped and scraped her knee. He had dashed off, already exhausted before he left the park, but he pushed himself until he reached a store he knew that sold what he needed.

Prompto paid for a box of bandaids, a bottle of water, and a pack of tissues. While paying for the items, he received a questioning glance from the cashier. Although she was suspicious of the boy, she said nothing and let him leave the store after he paid.

Running back to the park, Prompto found (Y/n) curled up beside the slide, crying. He ran to her side, clearly out of breath and having issues filling his lungs. As he took in a few deep breaths, he revealed the bag he had to his spirit.

"P-Prompto..." She whimpered.

"It's okay, (Y/n). I've got you covered," he smiled, his glasses sliding up his nose slightly from the action.

Pulling out the water bottle and pack of tissues, he began disinfecting the wound and removing the bits of mulch stuck to it. Once that was done, he lightly dabbed it to dry the wound so the bandaid would stick. Finally, he pulled out a single bandaid from the small box he bought. It was blue and had yellow chocobos printed on it. He placed it over the scrape, smile widening when his job was done. "There! All better!"

(Y/n) ceased crying and let out a final sniffle, wiping away her last remaining tears. "Th-Thank you, Prom." With his help, she got back to her feet. She was a few inches taller than him due to their age difference. Looking down, she peered into his face. "You know what would make me feel even more better?"

"Ice cream!" Prompto cheered. He connected their hands and swung them side to side with a giggle. "Let's got to that ice cream shop by our house! They've got this new chocobo flavor and I wanna try it!"

She blinked in shock. "Ch-Chocobo flavor?"

He laughed at her expression. "It's lemon, you goofball!"

"Do you have enough for ice cream after buying all this?" She gestured to the bag from the convenience store.

Prompto nodded. "Yep! Let's go!"

The two best friends left the park and headed to the ice cream parlor close to the house. They enjoyed their sweet dessert and headed back home.

The moment Prompto snuck back into the house, his adoptive parents were waiting for him. They were clearly angry and upset he had snuck out. (Y/n), who had returned to the gemstone before they arrived home, returned to his side after his parents finished scolding him. She found him curled up on the bed, crying. Her heart ached at the sight, feeling guilty. It was her fault they left. She was desperate to get out of the house. His adoptive parents didn't know about her and she wanted it to stay that way, but she was the reason he got into trouble with them.

"Prom?" (Y/n) muttered weakly. She climbed onto the small twin bed and crawled over to him. She placed a hand against his arm with a sorrowful sigh. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault you got in trouble."

"I-It's not your fault, (Y/n)," he sniffled. "I-I wanted to go to the park too. Th-They wouldn't have let me go if I told them..."

(Y/n) was familiar with Prompto's adoptive parents. At times, they were strict while others they didn't care one bit. They weren't the best parents, but they weren't the worst either.

Searching the bed, she found the stuffed chocobo she'd won him while playing a crane game during one of their outings a few months ago. She grabbed the plushie and tapped its beak against his cheek. "C'mon, Prom. You know Mr. Bubbles doesn't like it when you cry!" She continued nudging its plush beak against his cheek until she heard him giggle. "There's that smile! Mr. Bubbles and I always miss your smile when it's gone, Prom, so keep smiling for both of us, okay?"

Prompto giggled again, his smile widened as his tears vanished. "I promise!"

•••••

Prompto was startled from his thoughts when the sound of the door at the end of the cell block opened with a 'screech'. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and turned around. Gripping the bars, he glared at the approaching figure.

"I will never understand what a guardian sees in loving a human," Callyx sighed, rolling his shoulders. His right eye was foggy while his left was slitted, revealing he had ridded himself of the contacts. "Your kind is inferior in every aspect. Of course, there are some exceptions, but you clearly aren't one of them."

"It doesn't matter who's superior or inferior," Prompto grumbled. "That has nothing to do with how we feel."

"Oh, please. Spare me the talk about the true might of love and how it conquers all." Callyx folds his arms across his chest. "What I'm more interested in is your interest in her. You've learned the truth about her. She is a perfect copy of Verstael's guardian. I was hoping you'd be disgusted with the truth. Then again, you're one of the millions of copies of that mad scientist. Same face, same strand of DNA. Maybe your infatuation stems from Verstael's twisted infatuation with the real (Y/n)."

Prompto gripped the bars tighter, his knuckles turning white. "I don't care what (Y/n) and I are. What matters is our past and future."

"Spoken like a true man blinded by love. Makes me sick..." Callyx groaned. The spiky-haired guardian licked his lips as he looked away from the marksman. "There was something else I wanted to mention. What was it? ...Oh! Yes, that. The real reason I'm here. Are you familiar with torture?"

Prompto's eyes widen. "What?"

"Guess it doesn't really matter. You'll be familiar with it soon enough. After all, I will be the one to break you. I really wanted to be the one to torture (Y/n) after what she did to me at Fort Vaullery, but Ardyn's taken it upon himself to deliver her punishment. After roughing her up a bit, she'll be fed to the devourer. Of course, we wouldn't want you to miss the finale." Callyx smirked menacingly when seeing the boy's horrified expression. "That'll be your true breaking point. Losing the one you love breaks even the toughest souls."

The guardian searched his pockets for the key given to him by Ardyn. When he found it, he placed it in the lock of the cell door. Before unlocking the door, he looked back at Prompto and saw he was ready to attack. Holding out his hand, Callyx sent a bolt of lightning at Prompto. The boy cried out in pain as he was struck in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards and fall on the floor. A maniacal cackle fell from the spirit's lips as he opened the cell door and immediately closed it behind him. Holding out his hand, a wicked grin spread across his face as a sphere of pure lightning manifested in his palm. Taking a step closer to the boy, he glanced down at him. "I'm going to take my precious time with you, Prompto Argentum. Prepare yourself for the hell you're about to face."

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