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➢【 Artist: TurtlePumpkin on DeviantArt 】

— PLEASE do NOT repost or reuse this picture without permission as it is a personal gift. Thank you ♥︎

Bro Kingsglaive is absolutely goated

and getting to secretly make crepes w my friend and make hot chocolate before having movie night was honestly such an experience I love ffxv

Sooo… it’s time for me to be a little selfindulgent and for you to loose any hope you might had placed in me.

The sweet lady pictured here is called Irine (just that, no lastname, but if things go well enough she’ll get a certain someone to “share” his own) and she is a shameless self-insert of mine. So much so that she even dimension traveled to where she is now.

Via unknown means because I’m too lazy to make something up and it won’t matter much anyway.

Which is together with my newest favourite mad scientist.

Art was made by the talented @dagnyart.

Not Just a Feeling Chapter 58

Don’t forget to reblog to share with others! You can read the whole thing here on Ao3.

Summary:

Aqua spent three chapters preparing the perfect speech for Prompto. Of course he immediatley goes off script.

Ch. 58: The Start of a new Era

After Noctis and Ignis left to go down stairs Gladio watched as Ardyn shrugged out his trench coat. Which he laid across the back of Regis’ couch. The worn and used leather contrasting the sleek black and refined gold of the furniture. Ardyn paid no attention to how rich or expensive the couch was. Sitting down on it heavily, and then pulling his feet up. With his shoes ON. Dirtying the cushions.

“I am going to take a nap.” Ardyn declared. Not carrying at all about his disrespect, and getting comfortable on the couch. Dirty shoes making an invisible mess on the expensive cushions. Cause it wasn’t like his shoes were overtly muddy or anything…

Still. Gladio’s eye twitched. Not because he particularly cared about cleanliness, but because of years of living with Ignis, maids, and people who put a lot of effort into keeping things clean. “Alright. But take your shoes off. Come on, bro.”

Ardyn looked down at his shoes, and sighed. As if the thought annoyed him. Or he had been caught. He righted himself, unlaced and then took his shoes off. “Fine, but if there’s an emergency and I’m stuck running around without shoes- you’re paying for my next pedicure.” Ardyn grumbled.

With his shoes properly off, he summoned something from his armiger. A large cactuar plush. With little plastic bristles sticking out of the fabric. The thing was as large as a torso, and very clearly loved. Ardyn clutched it to his chest and flopped dramatically down onto the couch.

Gladio whistled “Well, where in the world did you get that? Talcott would go crazy for it.”

Ardyn settled down on the couch, adjusting the stuffed creature so it was tucked under his head. Looking thoughtful, “Oh. I got it from a store in Graela some years ago. You might be able to buy it online; or something similar.” Ardyn got comfortable and exhaled. Relaxing into the sofa. He was not quite able to relax all the way though. He furrowed his brows. “Talcott. I recall that name from somewhere- Noctis mentioned them once- where was it again?” he asked, more to himself.

“Oh- uhhh. Talcott is a kid we know. His family works for mine.” Gladio was not sure if putting the boy on Ardyn’s radar was a good or bad thing. Probably bad. Gladio knew Ardyn was on their side, but he didn’t think Ardyn had quite given up being… himself. He poured hot water from the kettle Ignis had left him, into a cup noodle. “He just loves Cactuars is all.” Gladio explained simply.

“That’s right.” Ardyn snapped as he recalled. “Talcott! He was buried behind Hammerhead with all of Noctis’ friends. There were little cactuar figurines he was buried with.” Ardyn held them mentally in front of himself with two fingers. As if he could see himself holding them.

Gladio’s hand jerked at Ardyn’s word, and he spilt some water. He quickly pulled the tea kettle back, and reached for a towel. “I’m sorry? What?”

“Oh- I’m talking about before. Durring the dark night.” Ardyn explained, “I’m sorry. I perhaps shouldn’t be bringing up something so jarring”

Sweet and innocent Talcott had… died. Gladio tried to wrap his head around that. Staring down at his cup of noodles. He knew that, theoretically, everyone had died. Including himself. However to learn that now… They died after I turned into a demon. If I had stayed around, would they have lived? he wondered. Grief settled around on his shoulders.

“No. It’s fine.” Gladio set down the tea kettle on the coffee table, perhaps a bit to harshly. He clenched, and unclenched his hands. Feeling his new claws brush against the palm of his hand. “How… how old did he live to be?” Gladio asked. finding his voice thick.

Ardyn shifted to lay more on his back. “I’m not sure.” He said slowly. Making Gladio think that Ardyn actually did have some idea, “The sun was dark for twelve years. Lestualum fell after three. Noctis returned after ten. Sometime between then and there.” Ardyn, holding his cactuar against this chest looked up at the ceiling. Recalling the time line “Hammerhead was destroyed in one final last stand by some desperate raiders, by the looks of things. There were several graves behind Hammerhead. Which Noctis liked to visit. People he knew. I suspect that Prompto buried them all however.”

“Prompto.” Gladio felt like someone was punching him in the gut. Prompto. Prompto had to bury Talcott… and Cindy… possibly everyone in Hammerhead. “I didn’t realize…” Gladio felt absolutely useless. He wondered how many people might have lived if he had not gone off to foolishly try and face Ardyn alone… I should have been there for him.

“Why don’t we change the subject to something lighter.” Ardyn suggested, “There is nothing we can do about the past, after all.”

“Y-yeah…” Gladio still felt really shitty about it though. He reached forward and picked up the TV remote. “Prom’s going to be giving his speech soon, right?”

“Should be soon.” Ardyn mused tiredly.

Gladio turned on the TV, and flipped through channels until he found the news. The reporter on screen was talking about the damage in the city. There was an aerial view of the buildings Cor had damaged. Then the trail of destruction Drautos had left through the city.

Gladio watched, cracking an egg to put into his cup noodles. Then adding a bit of the spices Ignis had put on the tray for him. He let everything cook. Then leaned back, watching the new reporter explain that King Regis had already deployed aid. Food and water for those who needed it. As well as set up some shelters people to go to, if they felt their homes were not safe enough come night fall. About arrangements for hunters to patrol the streets.

Ardyn was out like a light within moments of the TV being on. Curled up with his back to the rest off the room. Clutching the stuffed cactuar against his chest. Gladio would have thought Ardyn would be one to snore or something. However he was quiet, still, and completely dead to the world.

Gladio distracted himself by watching the news, and picking at his cup noodles. Soon the news announced that the Imperial Heir would be making a public statement, and then switched over to a staging area being set up by the Citadel gardens. Gladio wondered if he should wake up Ardyn. Though, honestly the man did look just plain exhausted. So he decided to let the man sleep. Just in case, Gladio activated King Regis’ old TV recording device.

“Alright Blondie.” Gladio set his empty cup noodles down on the table, and leaned back into the sofa. Wishing he could be down there personally to watch the speech. “You’ve got this. Time to show everyone what you’ve got.”

The crowd around the Citadel Gardens was very divided. At the front of the crowd you had a group all dressed in white. A contingent of Niflheim nobles who seemed had come to support their new Prince. With Imperial guards in shiny metal armor surrounding them protectively. Then towards the back of the crowd you had Lucian citizens carrying protesting signs, and looking agitated. Being kept in check by Lucian Crowns guards. Who wore riot gear and carried themselves with strict professionalism. In between these two groups were the news reporters. Press journalists, and all their equipment. Acting as a buffer of sorts. Not everyone was there to cause trouble. There were a good amount of curious onlookers. Who just so happened to be in the area. As well as Citadel workers. Who had left their desks in order to see what the fuss was about.

The crowd quieted as someone took the stage. An MT of all things. Dressed in an ostentatious Maroon suit. With… a blonde wig? Hair? It was an MT right? He had the mask. The glowing red eyes. He introduced himself as an MT… but… there was no way… there was no way that soulless magitech robots could actually be ALIVE.

Right?

The MT named 60 introduced the Imperial Heir with his own MT serial number. Causing many around the world tuning in to whisper in confusion. Pictures of the Imperial Heir had been circulating on the internet the last few days. Nothing official, just snaps of him being tested for the Lucian Pilgrimage, him entering and exiting the hospital… in those images the Imperial Heir had a face. Young, round and filled with freckles. They had expected a name to finally match this face.

Not another person wearing an MT mask. Sickly white, with gold tear tracks pulling down their cheeks. A flash of a golden half-tiara at their hair line. Which had also been styled up to spill over the side of their head. Like a brightly lit brazier.

“Thank you, 60.” The Imperial Heir said to their apparent sibling. Who had gone to stand with two other MTS off to the side. Many people tuning in beginning to wonder how many of these strange human-MTs there were- and how they were all connected to the Imperial Regime.

The Imperial Prince set some papers down on the podium, and looked towards the cameras. He then went still for a long, uncomfortable moment. Long enough that some of the people tuning in via TV thought that the news feed had frozen.

Finally, after a solid 80 seconds of dead silence, the Imperial Prince spoke. Chirping happily like a chocobo. “Hey Eos. What’s up?” He asked happily. His voice being higher pitched than his age would imply, and the casual attitude of his speech giving more than one viewer whiplash.

The Lucian officials standing behind him actually face palmed. Then turned, and stepped off the stage for a moment, to collect themselves. The man in Imperial Armor standing with her looked torn between joining her and keeping his post. The other MTs all looked at the Imperial Heir, and while their faces were covered with masks. They also had their own visible reactions, though. The tallest in particular looked like he was holding back laughter.

“This is my first time speaking to so many people all at once.” The Imperial Prince continued, without any hesitation, “So bare with me if I’m not perfect, polished, or any of what you typically would expect from a proper politician.” He remarked with an easy sense of humor. Which had most people watching the speech feeling uneasy, if anything.

“To start off let me officially introduce myself to everyone. I am Imperial Prince Ni-P01357. Or if you don’t want to remember all those numbers: ‘Prince 57’ works just fine. To answer the usual, immediate questions. Yes: I identify an MT. No: Most MTs are not as 'human’ as me and my brothers. We are a different kind of MT. I could explain my whole life story-” The Prince waved his hand in dismissal, “but a lot more important things are happening. Which is what I am here to go over today.”

The Prince transitioned from light hearted into a more serious tone. As he properly started his speech. “Last night, something big happened. The Wall of Lucis fell, the Divine Crystal was stolen, and a lot of the Citizens within Insomnia were exposed to the horrors of the night for the first time in some hundreds of years.” The Imperial Prince adjusted the papers in front of him, as if to reference them. His voice reflecting this, becoming less natural and more static. “As the Imperial Prince I am here to inform everyone that none of these events were carried out by Imperial hands: but rather due to internal sabotage. An individual known as Titus Drautos- who was previously a General of the Lucian Glaives- worked with a Rebel group to stage a coo. Turning their blades on the very Kingdom who took them in. These traitors attacked not just the Lucis Caleum family- but also myself. Sending an assassination squad after me. Yesterday afternoon, we determined that one of Drautos’ main goals was to nullify the peace treaty between Lucis and Niflheim. To reignite the war.”

“Which is why some of you might have seen me fighting last night alongside Noct- I mean- Prince Noctis, Cor the Immortal, Gladiolus - oh my fire.” The Imperial Prince looked at his written speech, then turned to look behind him, “Did you write out everone’s full titles?” He asked. Voice was slightly muffled as he was turned away from the microphones. Holding up the prepared speech. “I am not reading off all of that.” he simply declared, and then turned back to the podium.

“So- yeah. Last night was pretty hectic.” The Imperial Prince surmised and simply, setting aside the papers before him. “Now you all might reasonably be thinking. 'Why would anyone from Niflheim fight to help the Lucians keep the Crystal? Don’t they want power and to rule everything and stuff?’” The Niflheim Prince altered his voice to sound gruff and unfriendly, as he imitated a voice. Before answering with his own voice. “Well the answer is pretty simple; at the end of the day Niflheim approached Lucis and offered the Armistice Treaty for a reason. And that reason is:”

The Niflheim Prince paused for a breath, having a large portion of the world leaning in closer to their television screens, radio devices, and more. “The war between the Niflheim Empire and Lucian Kingdom needs to come to an end. This conflict has been going on now for over two hundred and fifty years. Everyone I have ever met has been impacted by the war. At this point the Empire spans as far, if not farther than the ancient Nation of Solheim. And I will say, that as the next person to inherit such a Glorious Nation I see the appeal in conquering every corner. Crushing everyone who dares to oppose our power. However we are at the point of having to ask ourselves. Is tearing everything we have conquered so far apart worth it? To conquer one City?”

The Imperial Heir’s question lingered in the air. People watching from all over the globe were feeling quite divided on this statement, course. “The Empire by this point feels that our power had been made clear. That is why we felt confident offering the Lucian Kingdom an end to the war which would not drag out for another generation or more. King Regis accepted this Armistance. Meaning that both of our Nations on this matter, we can see eye to eye. Therefore why I helped Prince Noctis out last night should be evident. It is time for the world to transition into an era of peace. Not for us to fall for simple political traps, and dissolve all the progress which has recently been made.”

The crowd of Lucians watching the speech in-person began to ripple, even before the Niflheim Heir made their next statement. “That is why I am here to assure you all. That despite last nights events. Today at 01800 Insomnia Standard Time, Niflheim has full intentions to sign the Armistice Treaty with Lucis. As previously negotiated.”

The ripple in the crowd quickly became a wave. “No treaty!” “Get out of our homes!” “Fuck off Niffs!” The crowd started with jeers, and then became a wall of upset, angry noise. The Crowns Guard containing the crowd stood at the ready. Making sure that no one was actually trying to break through the gates. Though thankfully everyone in the crowd seemed content to wave their signs and shout their protests. Still, the Press all looked back a bit nervously at the crowd. Checking their exit should they need one. The Niflheim nobles standing closer to the stage looked back on the crowd as well. Almost judging the Citizens for their reactions.

The Imperial Prince took a moment to look over the angry crowd. His MT mask stayed static, and did not give any sort of expression. Not that this kept people over the next few days from interpretation this singular look.

The Imperial Prince, after a pause, leaned in and spoke into the microphones on the podium. His voice being picked up over the crowd thanks to them. “After the treaty is signed. I plan to personally help Noctis Lucis Caelum fulfill the Kings Pilgrimage- and take back what was stolen. I promise that the Divine Crystal will be returned to the Lucian Kingdom.”

What usually would have been a promising statement, met with applause. Was instead met with the resounding negativity. Too many people caught up in yelling about their dissatisfaction with the treaty: to care about what other things the Imperial Prince had to say.

A man in Imperial Armor stepped up to the Imperial Prince, and whispered something in his ear. The Imperial Prince raised up a hand, and treated the boos as if they were cheers approval. “Thank you all for coming.” He waved once. Then stepped back from the podium. 60 stepped back up to the podium and stated that they would not be accepting questions at this time. Everyone around the podium broke their formation. Soon the Imperial Prince, his entourage and the Niflheim Nobles all disappeared behind the side gate of the Citadel. Leaving the press and the angry crowd of Lucians outside.

The news feeds cut away to people in studios, or experts. Radio announcers started to give their remarks. One particular feed being watched by an anxious Gladio upstairs panned over the angry crowd. Which the Crowns Guard kept calmly kept back off the proper Citadel wall- but other wise let boil out for the time being.

Behind the closing gates of the Citadel the Imperial Prince walked through the manicured flower gardens. Down the paved walkway towards the official entrance to this side of the Citadel. The bright sun, and pretty flowers greatly contrasting to the angry turmoil happening outside the Citadel walls.

Aqua fixed her glasses, “Well that could have… ended a little bit better.” she remarked warily. Unnerverd by the mass of angry people they had just been staring down. Like the barrel of a loaded gun. One which when fired would result in them getting torn apart by hundreds of people.

Prince 57 took a few more steps forward, paused and then turned back to look at his assistant. “What do you mean? I think that went pretty alright.”

“Your sense of severity needs to be calibrated,” Aqua reprimand him, “You can’t seriously think that ended well.” 60 stepped in to side with Aqua, “Perhaps next speech we should get more data about the crowd first. So we know what issues they stand on. So that we can get a more favorable response…” He considered, pinching his chin.

“Guys.” The Imperial Prince placed his hands on his hips. Almost as if he were going to reprimand his brother and Aqua. “Those people are not my citizens.” He reminded them. “They can be angry all they want. They’re not MY people, so not my PROBLEM.”

This statement seemed to catch 60 and Aqua off guard. Prince 57 continued. “Also they’ve been protesting the treaty for days at this point. I had no expectation that I could change their minds one way or another.”

54 huffed in amusement. “I think they’re more worried about how many people we might have had to fight off. If that had turned into a riot or something. That could have quickly turned into a bad situation.”

57 considered this, and then lowered his arms. “We would have been fine.” He assured the group. Half turning, “I’ve… dealt with large crowds like that before. It’s a lot of people… but they have little to no actual defense.”

Loqi frowned, “When was this?” he asked.

“OOO! Is this a memory you’ve recalled?!” 58 hopped up excitedly from the back of the group. Up until now he had seemed completely disinterested in everything they were doing. However at the mention of this, his eyes took up a sharp sort of sparkled at the corner of his eyes.

Prince 57 considered his words, “More like a nightmare I lived through.”

Before anyone else could ask questions, or make remarks. A voice called out over the Citadel gardens. “PROMPTO???”

Prince 57 turned, and then looked up. His face still covered by his MT mask, but his voice brightened considerably. “NOCT!! IGGY!!”

Prince Noctis was flying above them. Descending for a touch down. In his hands, held out parallel to his chest, was a magical staff. Long with blue cloth tied around mechanical looking parts. Topped with a glass sphere which had mesmerizing layers to it. Being carried Princes style in his arms, and half supported by the staff, was Ignis. Who had his arms around Noctis’ shoulders, and was holding on for what looked like dear life.

Prompto smiled, and ran out, arms outstretched. As if he could catch the two floating down ward. “Hey! you guys finally made it!!!”

Prompto in my AU:

• Was raised by Ardyn and Verstael. (He says they are not ideal, but at least they are more present than the ones he had in cannon.)
• Grew up with 9 identical clones brothers. They all identify as MTs and go by their serial numbers. (Mostly vecause Ardyn forgot to give them all proper names until they were 3.)
• At 6 Prompto was chosen by Ifrit to be his champion, and given his own magical power. His first use of that power was to turn one of his brothers into a frog.
• At 20 Prompto was selected to be the next Imperial Heir by Iedolas. Who mostly did it to throw a wrench into Ardyn’s plans, and to piss Ardyn off.
• Before being selected as Imperial Heir, Prompto finished highschool at 13 (with his other brothers) and became a mechanical engineer, specalizing in air ships. He has a succsessful buisness that designes air ships and other vehicles for the Niflheim military, and commercial use. Though his true dream is to one day own a fleet of classic sports cars.
• In his prior life Prompto was Cor’s best friend for 8ish years in the WOR. They were drinking buddies.
• Durring the long night Prompto led his own hunting party consisting of Cor, Aranea, Iris and himself.
• Prompto and Cor were the last humans alive durring the WOR. Prompto outlived Cor by 3 days. (They both died from a stomach virus.)

My ramblings/thoughts on how it’s going playing final fantasy XV: Chapter 8- Hunts/Random

march 6th & 7th. I got an extra play this week.
I for some reason didnt really do many quests. Dispite having a well thought out list of em.
I just kinda got in the zone for hunting so this is more of a random stuffs post.


March 6th: quests done- Crazy about Cactuar, The Perfect Cup.
last time I mentioned ‘needing more money’ so yeah that what I’ve been doing other then that-
I went to Lastalum and bought the Cactuar there then we went back to cape ceam to hand over the little statues.
I did something else wall I was there but I dounno what.

I’ve made it vary clear I don’t like Talcott… I still don’t like him…
but it’s nice that the boys care about him at least.

after this I asked my mom who was sitting in the back of the room what quest I should do next she suggested the ‘perfect cup’ for Gladio.
(which of course she did she likes Gladio and the quest was near by).

We made our way down to the water, where we found a huge lobster, my mom thought he was a scorpion and was confused for a moment…

Gladio and those quest boy is a walking add. he is way to passionate about this stuff, I loved it tho.
(and yes I did fish wall I was there)

Hunts:
(note: they were actually done staring in location order. So their probably out of order)

Several of the Hunts I took on were a freaking nightmare!
oh you want me to kill lil baby chicken things? feel kinda bad about it but Sure!

when I tell you our whole party almost died…
these little chicken where knocking us down and jumping on our stomachs, you know how much Heath that took! It was over half of the freaking bar! This fight took forever! We kept getting dazed!
I started this fight with Around 30-40 ‘smelling salts’
I had 17 by the end of it!!!

another hunt I did was the killer wasps, that was mostly easy took a little longer but no big deal. I did use more ‘smelling salts’ tho…

Had to kill some giant chickens, they kept poisoning me but eh we still had plenty of antidotes at this point in time.

Treant… Just’a big tree thing… Thats it…

the last thing was a group of black flans.
I did not realize the black flans are the really big ones. They were also pretty problematic but know where near as bad as the Regaltrice.
(thats what their called right?)

thats where I ended the night.
my mother made several comments on the fighting. One was about the whole dazed/confusion thing, I explained it a two times and was honestly a bit annoyed due to the fight I was just in.
I don’t usually get mad at games or during fights in Ffxv however those stupid baby chickens were apparently the bane of my existence Because they were so annoying!
they’d back me up into the wall and spam attack~ it was awful~

wall playing that night I did try to catch the liege and got about half way before my line snapped. I was so close~ :<

when we were making our way to the hunt locations we were ridding on chocobos for both fun and convenience!

I forgot what made her say this but my mom now thinks Prompto is cute, and funny. I told her about his chocobo song the other day and she thought that was absolutely adorable so~

also at some point I’d planted carrots in ceam.
I have no idea when I become level 66 wall playing that night I just remember noticing like halfway through that it’d changed.

I had gotten a lot of new dialogue this night. I don’t remember any specifics tho this did happen.
prompto had his line about asking to get some food from the crows nest and Ignis told him ‘only if you wish to gain weight’
I said out loud, that that was mean and that Ignis shouldn’t say that to him.
my mom asked why and I explained it was because Prompto used to be a chubby kid, and probably thinks about that enough himself.
she then said Iggy was being mean.

March 7th: quests done- A better circular saw.

this could have been from the day prior but I did realize that I could give Cid his Sky-gemstone. I think we camped at the Vesperpool and went fishing the next morning. We failed at getting the liege.
(this happened twice. That night. I’ve tried to catch him 5 times now)

oh yeah I also went back in to the Steyliff Grove.
we had a hunt for the dragon thing down there.
I wish there was dialogue for Gladdy being down there simce the boys talked about him the first time you go there I get why we don’t tho

wall we were at the Vesperpool I noticed there was a timed quest and I figured I’d see what that was about. I went to a little pond and fought some things, the music that played was a surprise but it was good kept the fight fun~
I turned in the hunts with around 216’000 Gil. We had about 277’00Gill or more afterwords and immediately spent the money on curatives and ingredients.

a lot of the night consisted of manual driving
(no idea why I wanted to drive manually and AT NIGHT NO LESS)
we went all over the map doing hunts from all over the intent was to check the diners on our way to cape caem. And thats how it went…

as I went to the diners I checked the hunts listed most of them were already done but there were still a few here and there that weren’t done. However there really wasn’t a lot of hunts left and most of the time was actually driving at night, I couldn’t drive more then a few minutes without something jumping out at us.
Some where quick level 3 imp things other weren’t.

Aranea did appear to help up with some red giants twice.
I noticed Ignis would stay near her instead of Noct… That was an odd lil detail.
During both of the fights with her we fell off the bridge, I tried to get back up via warping to the other red giant up there but it didn’t work,
I really don’t like fighting red giants, they’re annoying. But hey at least theres a chance of Aranea helping us!
so like is she helping us tho? Whats here reason? And why does she just happen to come across us so much.

also wall driving I kept recking the car this happened pretty early on so, the new plan was after we made it to ceam we’d go to hammerhead and get the car repaired.
some of the recks the car took were just for fun from me messing around and being stupid other were genuine accidents caroused by bad times on the game and I part.

eventually after much longer then it should have been, we made it to ceam and collected the weapon from Cid. Then we went to the diner right before hammerhead and collected the hunts there, I think it might have been two. After that was collected we went to get the car repaired and came back to the in to sleep.
from all of the hunts and fighting over night we’d earned around 35’000EXP which was nice. We’d gone up two levels! Putting us at 68.

the next morning we got up and made our way to the hunt spot, we were going to fight Cactuars.
when we found em they were just walkin’ around and one was laying on the ground with his booty on display. I love these little creatures their so funny and cute.
even if they did almost one shot Gladio… Seriously what was that? They are wildly overpowered for a living cactus.
Gladio has well over 7’000 health points and they almost took him out.

They were actually pretty fun to fight tho. Nothing like those baby chicken daemons from earlier

this was very difficult to write and took nearly 3 hours but eh.
I love this game but sometimes it can be a real pain with the enemies and the summons.

Noctis: Where did you get that sword?
Heaven: You ever hear of the term ‘finders keepers’?
Noctis: You stole it, didn’t you…?
Heaven: It found me, thank you.

I accidentally

Since Esfir’s job is to practically remember everythig in place of Ardyn and to keep his behaviour on a “socially acceptable level of chaotic”, she must follow him everywhere whether she likes it or not.

The later option is of cozrsee much more common. 1) Because it means these places contains Ardyn, 2) they often contains other high ranking people she hates and 3) because there many of these places/occassions she would naturaly avoid like fire.

One of these are the fancy social gatherings and balls of the elite. Where she absolutely feels like a fish out of water.

These are especially awful due to the fact that they make Ardyn excited and more inpulsive than his usual self. This, on more than one occassion resulted in the idea to go and get something nice for Esfir to wear.

Now there is nothing genuine about this all, Ardyn just wan’t to be entertained and to avoid his Chancellor duties.

1) Because of the outrage it will cause if it gets out how much he spent on Esfir and 2) because at the beginning rather passionately hated both, the shopping process and the attention the outfits drawn to her.

Later tho… she learnd how to utilize these occassions.

*at noctis and promptos place*

Prompto sitting on the couch playing with noctis hair: hmmmmm

Noctis sitting in-between prompts legs: what you thinking about

Prompto: well I’ve been thinking about trying out different hairstyles recently and… I’ve been wanting to try to do the braid thing like nyx has

Noctis: one never thought I would ever hear you say you want to try different hairstyles and two I think you would kill that look

very scuffed 5am insomnia doodle of noctis in elegant womens clothing

you guys think hed be a black lipstick girlie or not?

Final Fantasy 15 was not a good game (suffered to much from very clearly being an unfinished game) but by god I would die for those boys.

Out lining the next chapter of ‘Not Just a Feeling’

How do we feel about Ignis having a fear of Tomophobia? (Fear of medical procedures)

Out lining the next chapter of ‘Not Just a Feeling’

How do we feel about Ignis having a fear of Tomophobia? (Fear of medical procedures)

I will never get over Ignis.

The dialogue,

Prompto: Let’s hit up the Crow’s Nest!

Ignis: Certainly, if you wish to put on weight.

Prompto: Yeahhh, I know…

Really hits different when you know Prompto’s background and what he went through in order to become what he saw as “worthy” to be friends with Noctis.

It all began with a stupid joke about Ardyn needing a “babyisitter” to keep him from making too big of a mess and do his job as a politician.

And so I gave him one.

Then things… escalated, characters developed and other jokes followed…

Then I wrote this.

(So, I blame @lostonarrakis for this thing. Entierly. Since she was the one who got me addicted to this emotional trainwreck of a game and this whole special species of a villian. 🥰)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80261611

Another World: Chapter 3 - Awakening

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Pairing: Noctis Lucis Caelum x female reader

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Insomnia

The Citadel’s windows stood in defiance of the pale dawn, their glass reflecting the stormy blue of insomnia’s horizon. In the prince’s upper room, the air was thick with the scent of machine oil and bruised citrus blossoms, a leftover from the gardens below, where gardeners labored from predawn to dusk to appease the royal appetite for order and beauty. The four of them—Noctis, Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto—had claimed the balcony for their morning ritual of coffee and the raw honesty that only sleeplessness could bring.

Gladiolus stretched, the black ink of his tattoo shifting across his skin as he reached both arms over his head. “So, we’re really doing this,” he said, his voice as gravelly as the road to Galdin Quay. “You’re getting married in five weeks, Noct. How do you feel about that?”

Noctis leaned against the railing, the metal cold beneath his palms. He watched as the city below pulsed with life, the morning crowd moving with insect precision. “Like I’m being paroled for a crime I don’t remember committing,” he said.

Ignis, ever the diplomat, sipped his coffee and adjusted his glasses. “It is, after all, a political matter. You marrying the Oracle is the only thing that will buy the peace, at least for a little while. Unless you’d rather we start conscripting the schoolchildren for the front lines.”

Noctis didn’t answer. His silence was a living thing, filling the space between the words. Prompto, who could never bear a silence for long, grinned and raised his phone. “Hey, at least you’re gonna go viral. The engagement party’s gonna be a rager. Think of all the likes.”

“One day, I’d like to see if you survive without social media for twenty-four hours,” Ignis observed.

Prompto put on an exaggerated frown. “I’d die. Instantly.”

Gladiolus shrugged. “You’d probably get more stuff done. Like learning how to cook.”

“Not a chance. That’s your job, Specs.” Prompto winked at Ignis, who rolled his eyes with the practiced patience of someone who’d spent a lifetime herding stray cats.

Noctis let their banter slip over him, gaze fixed beyond the Citadel walls. Some absences had learned to survive without being named.

A shape crested the skyline, drawing closer with the uncanny purpose of a guided missile. Gladiolus saw it first—a streak of gold and bronze, wingspan wide enough to blot out the sun for a heartbeat. “Heads up,” he said, only half joking.

The eagle landed on the balcony rail, less than a foot from Noctis’s hand. Its talons were the color of old bone, its feathers burnished with sunlight. The bird’s head cocked, first to one side, then the other, as if weighing the worth of the boys before it.

Prompto’s eyes went wide. “Dude. Is that a–”

“Golden eagle,” Ignis said, setting down his cup. “Aquila chrysaetos. Native to these parts, but I’ve never seen one that size before. Or this close.”

The eagle called, a sound sharp enough to slice the comfortable haze of morning. Prompto, excitable as ever, bounced upright and nearly dropped his phone. “Whoa! I’ve never seen one this close before. Isn’t it supposed to be, like, illegal to get near them?”

Gladiolus grinned. “You gonna arrest it?”

Prompto crept closer, his caution warring with his curiosity. The eagle flared its wings in a warning that was, Noctis thought, as regal as it was threatening. Prompto took the hint and stopped, hands up in surrender. “Noted. Social distancing.”

Noctis reached out, half expecting the bird to lunge for his fingers. Instead, the eagle merely blinked, once, slow and deliberate, before sidling a step closer. Its feathers caught the light, burnished gold and copper. He held his hand steady. The eagle tilted its head and leaned into his palm, a gesture so unexpected and gentle that Noctis felt a prickle of something old and half-remembered at the base of his neck.

Ignis studied the interaction with clinical interest. “It appears to have taken a liking to you, Noct.”

Noctis shrugged, but he didn’t pull his hand away. The eagle’s eyes were ancient, older than the city, and they made him feel very young. For a moment, he forgot about the pending marriage, the war, the weight of expectation. The bird let out a low, whistling cry, then flared its wings again—this time as punctuation—before launching from the railing into the warming air.

It didn’t leave. It circled the Citadel once, twice, as if waiting for them to follow.

Gladiolus exhaled in what might have been a laugh. “Guess you’re popular.”

Prompto, emboldened by the lack of bloodshed, raised his phone and started snapping pictures. “Hold on, hold on, let me get a selfie!”

Noctis watched as the eagle banked through the thinning clouds, broad wings immaculate and almost illuminated by the slanting sun. There was a story there, he thought: a gold-feathered messenger, circling the Citadel on a morning thick with unspoken histories. He wondered if this was how omens were born, if someone would someday cast this moment in legend: the king with his familiar, the bird that followed him from cradle to grave.

On the balcony, Gladiolus stretched again, this time rolling his wrists and cracking his neck. “Well, shall we follow the bird, your highness?” he said, only half in jest.

Noctis looked up and squinted against the glare. “Maybe it wants to show us something,” he said, his voice so dry Prompto almost missed the humor.

Ignis set his cup back down, the cup making a sharp click against the marble. “Given the frequency with which animals attempt to communicate with you, I suggest we indulge the eagle. For science.”

Prompto was already at the door, his camera held tight as a child’s favorite toy. “If this turns out to be some kind of hidden royal menagerie, I want a picture with every single animal,” he declared, leading the way inside.

The four of them made their way down the labyrinthine halls, Ignis taking the lead with a navigation that suggested he could find any room in the Citadel blindfolded. The eagle, visible through every window they passed, kept pace, sometimes landing to watch them from a parapet, sometimes swooping ahead. By the time they reached the gardens, the bird had stationed itself on the sundial at the center of the main lawn.

Noctis stepped out first, the cool air tinged with the subtle perfume of citrus and rain. The gardens were brighter than usual, the flowers almost aggressively in bloom, as if the eagle’s presence had coaxed the entire place into frantic vitality. Even the grass seemed greener, more unruly, sparkled with dew from the morning’s short-lived drizzle.

Prompto snapped a dozen shots before they had even crossed the threshold. “I’ve never seen the lawn like this,” he muttered, half to himself, half to the bird.

Gladiolus nudged his shoulder and grinned, “Maybe it’s the magic of impending nuptials. Or maybe,” he added, looking at Noctis, “the place just likes you better than Regis.”

Noctis ignored the jab, instead following the eagle’s gaze, which was fixed on a dense patch of wildflowers near the hedge maze. He stepped off the path, shoes dampening instantly as he moved toward the spot. The others followed, Gladiolus and Ignis with their usual calm, Prompto bringing up the rear with the unselfconscious energy of a puppy.

The eagle flapped up and perched overhead, gold and bronze feathers molten in the low sunlight. Noctis knelt at the edge of the flower-bed, ignoring the damp that instantly soaked through his knees. He parted a stand of rainheavy hyacinths—and there she was: a stranger, unconscious, curled up amongst the roots.

She looked about their age, maybe younger. Blonde hair spilled over a black sweater, she was wearing green pants, and boots.

Prompto’s phone hovered for a split second before he remembered himself, lowering the camera and gaping. “Wow,” he whispered, and then, as if afraid to disturb her, “She’s… she’s pretty.”

Noctis set his hand on the girl’s shoulder and shook, softly. “Hey,” he said. “Hey. Can you hear me?”

Nothing. The girl’s eyelids fluttered, but she did not wake. Noctis looked up at Ignis, who was already slipping his gloves off and crouching beside them. “Pulse is strong,” Ignis said, pressing two fingers to the girl’s neck. “But she’s running a fever.”

“She’s not bleeding anywhere,” Gladiolus observed, scanning her for injuries. “Probably caught something out here. Or she’s dehydrated.”

“She needs a doctor,” Ignis said, already in logistics mode. “And water.”

Gladio didn’t wait for the rest. He knelt, slid his arms under the stranger as gently as you’d pick up a wounded animal, and lifted her like she weighed nothing. Her head lolled against his shoulder, hair trailing across his forearm.

The eagle watched, unblinking, as the four young men made their way across the dew-soaked lawn.

The eagle’s golden eyes tracked every movement, every shift in weight and hesitation, a silent sentinel whose patience was centuries old.

~~~~~~~~

I woke slowly, consciousness returning in fragments like pieces of a shattered mirror reassembling themselves. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted with exhaustion I didn’t understand. When I finally managed to open them, I found myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling—vaulted, ornate, painted with constellations I almost recognized.

I frowned and pushed myself up, the sheets pooling around my waist. The bed beneath me was impossibly soft, the kind of comfort I’d never experienced in my modest home in the woods. I pressed my palm against my temple, trying to ease the dull ache that pulsed behind my eyes.

Then I felt it—that familiar prickle at the edge of my awareness. Someone was near me. Watching.

I turned my head slowly, and my breath caught.

A young man sat in a wingback chair beside the bed, close enough that I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He was handsome—striking, really—with spiky black hair that looked like it had never met a brush and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold storms within them. He looked a year or two older than me, maybe twenty, and there was something about him that made my heart stutter in recognition.

I knew him. I was certain of it. But from where? The memory danced just out of reach, a name on the tip of my tongue that refused to form.

On the nightstand beside him, Blaze sat with his wings tucked tight, his golden eyes fixed on me with that ancient, knowing look he always wore. The sight of my guardian loosened something in my chest—if Blaze was here, calm and unruffled, then maybe I wasn’t in danger.

The young man must have noticed my gaze flicking between him and the eagle because he leaned forward slowly, the way you might approach a wounded animal. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low and surprisingly gentle. He reached for something on the nightstand and held it out to me—a glass of water, the condensation beading on its surface.

I hesitated, my fingers curling into the sheets. Every instinct I’d honed living alone in the woods screamed at me to be cautious. But Blaze made a soft sound—reassurance, trust—and I found myself reaching out. Our fingers didn’t touch as I took the glass, but I felt something pass between us anyway. A recognition without a memory to attach it to.

The water was cool against my parched throat, and I drank greedily before forcing myself to stop. I lowered the glass to my lap, clutching it like a lifeline.

“I’m Noctis,” he said, watching me with an intensity that made me want to look away. But I couldn’t. His eyes held mine, searching for something I didn’t know how to give. “What’s your name?”

My voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. “Rachel.”

The name felt strange in my mouth, like wearing clothes that didn’t quite fit. But it was the only name I had, the only identity I’d known for twelve years.

Something flickered across Noctis’s face—disappointment? Recognition? I couldn’t tell. He leaned back in his chair, but his gaze never left mine.

“Where am I?” I asked, my nervousness bleeding into every syllable. The room was enormous, filled with furniture that probably cost more than my entire house. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, catching dust motes that danced in the golden light.

“You’re safe,” Noctis said, and the certainty in his voice made me want to believe him. “You’re in the Citadel. My friends and I found you on the palace grounds.” He paused, glancing at Blaze. “In the gardens. Your eagle led us to you.”

I blinked at him, my mind struggling to process his words. The Citadel. Palace grounds. This man spoke of such things casually, as if finding unconscious strangers in royal gardens was an everyday occurrence.

“I don’t…” I started, then stopped. How could I explain that I didn’t know how I got here? That the last thing I remembered was touching a silver door that shouldn’t have existed? “I don’t understand.”

Blaze shifted on the nightstand, his feathers catching the light. Through our bond, I felt something I’d never sensed from him before—anticipation, hope, and beneath it all, a profound relief that made no sense.

“Do I know you?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, raw and honest. “You feel… familiar. Like I should remember you from somewhere.”

Noctis went very still. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, and the silence between us grew heavy with unspoken things. When he finally answered, his voice was careful, measured.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. The silence stretched between us, fragile as spun glass.

“Do you remember where you were before?” Noctis asked, his voice gentle but probing. “Before you ended up in the gardens?”

I hesitated again, my fingers tightening around the water glass. The question should have been simple, but nothing felt simple anymore. “Boston,” I finally said. “Massachusetts.”

Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing. He shook his head slowly. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“America,” I added, as if that would clarify things. As if saying the name of my country would somehow bridge whatever gap existed between his understanding and mine.

But Noctis only shook his head again, the confusion deepening. “Never heard of it,” he repeated. He tilted his head slightly, studying me with renewed curiosity. “Is it near Altissia?”

I blinked at him, the unfamiliar name rolling through my mind without finding purchase. “No,” I answered softly, uncertainty threading through every syllable. “I don’t think so.”

Blaze gave a soft call from the nightstand—a gentle, lilting sound that carried meaning only I could hear. I turned to him instinctively, my brow furrowing as his message settled into my thoughts.

“Home?” I repeated in confusion, looking at my guardian. The word felt strange, loaded with implications I didn’t understand. What did he mean by home? Boston was home. The woods were home. This place—wherever this was—couldn’t be home.

I looked back at Noctis and found him staring at me. But there was no judgment in his expression, no wariness at watching a girl carry on a conversation with a bird. He wasn’t looking at me like I was insane. Instead, his blue eyes held something else entirely—surprise, maybe, or the dawning edge of realization.

“You understand the eagle,” he said. It wasn’t quite a question.

I hesitated, my instinct to hide warring with something deeper—a sense that this person, this stranger who felt so inexplicably familiar, deserved honesty. I nodded slightly.

“I’ve always understood animals,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think… all my life. But I don’t have memories from before I was six.”

Noctis kept staring at me, and I watched something shift behind his eyes. It was like watching someone piece together a puzzle they’d given up on years ago, hope and fear tangling together in equal measure. He looked at me as if I might be the answer to a question he’d been too afraid to ask.

He blinked, seeming to collect himself. “I should probably let the others know you’re awake.” He reached for something on the nightstand—a phone, sleek and black. “My father will want to meet you. And my friends—the ones who found you with me.”

My eyes widened slightly, and I felt my shoulders tense before I could stop them. More people. Strangers.

I glanced at Blaze, a silent exchange passing between us. His golden eyes met mine, steady and reassuring, but even his calm presence couldn’t fully quell the anxiety rising in my chest. I looked back at Noctis.

“I don’t… I mean, I don’t do well with a lot of people,” I admitted softly, the confession slipping out before I could think better of it. “Back home, I mostly kept to myself. Animals are easier to understand than people sometimes.”

Noctis paused, his thumb hovering over his phone screen. His eyes met mine, and I saw something there—recognition, perhaps, or understanding. He seemed to weigh my words carefully before making a decision.

“Would it be okay if one of my friends came?” he asked. “And my father?”

I considered the question, my heart still beating too fast. Two people. Just two. I could manage two, couldn’t I? Especially with Blaze beside me.

I nodded slightly, my voice soft. “I guess so.”

Noctis’s expression gentled, and he typed something quickly into his phone. After sending the text, Noctis lifted the phone to his ear, placing a call. I watched him from the bed, my fingers still wrapped around the half-empty water glass.

“Father,” he said, his voice shifting into something more formal. “She’s awake. Coherent.” A pause. “Yes. Rachel–that’s what she said.” Another pause, longer this time. “I understand. We’ll be here.”

The conversation was brief—just enough to convey the essentials. Throughout, I sat silently, my posture tense but my eyes wandering, taking in the ornate furnishings of the chamber. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling. Heavy velvet drapes framed windows that stretched nearly floor to ceiling. The furniture was dark wood, polished to a mirror shine, carved with intricate patterns that seemed almost alive in the shifting light.

It looked… royal. Like something out of a storybook, the kind Freya used to read to me when I was small.

When Noctis ended the call and slipped the phone back onto the nightstand, I couldn’t stay still any longer. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air hitting my bare feet. I needed to move, to feel something solid beneath me, to ground myself in this strange new reality that pressed against my skin like an ill-fitting garment.

I stood slowly, carefully—

The room tilted alarmingly around me.

My vision blurred at the edges, the ornate ceiling swirling into the walls, colors bleeding together like watercolors in rain. I reached instinctively for the side of my head, a small gasp escaping my lips as the world refused to stay upright.

Then I felt him beside me—warmth and presence and the faint scent of something clean, like rain on stone. His hand closed around my arm, gentle but firm, steadying me as I swayed.

“Hey, easy,” Noctis said, his voice low and calm. “Sit down. Take it easy. The doctor said you need rest.”

I wanted to argue, wanted to insist that I was fine. But my legs felt like water and the room was still spinning, so I allowed him to guide me back to the bed. I sank onto the mattress, too dizzy to protest, pressing my palm against my forehead as if I could physically hold my thoughts together.

Blaze had moved to the headboard at some point—I hadn’t even seen him fly—and now he watched me with concerned golden eyes, shifting from one foot to the other in that restless way he had when something worried him.

“I just…” I started, then stopped, swallowing hard against the tightness in my throat. “I need to understand where I am. This doesn’t feel real.”

Noctis settled back into the chair beside me, close enough that I could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the tension he carried in his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, measured—the voice of someone choosing their words with care.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said. “Waking up somewhere unfamiliar. Not knowing how you got here.” He paused, his gaze drifting briefly to Blaze before returning to me. “But you’re safe. Whatever happened, whatever brought you here–we’ll figure it out.”

I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, any hint that his words were empty platitudes meant to pacify a confused stranger. But his eyes held mine steadily, and through my bond with Blaze, I felt something unexpected—a sense of trust emanating from my guardian, directed at this young man.

“The silver door,” I whispered. “There was a door by the lake. I touched it, and then…”

Noctis leaned forward slightly, his expression sharpening with interest. “A silver door?”

I nodded, pressing my fingers against my temples. “In the forest, back home. Blaze led me there. It was covered in patterns–constellations, I think. And when I touched it…” I trailed off, the memory fragmenting like morning mist. “Everything went white.”

The door opened quietly, interrupting whatever Noctis might have said in response. I tensed instinctively, my fingers curling into the sheets as a young man stepped into the room. He was tall and lean, with sandy hair swept up and back from his face, and he wore glasses that caught the light as he moved. His clothing was impeccable—a tailored shirt and vest that spoke of precision and care.

“Ah, she’s awake,” he said, his voice carrying a refined accent that matched his appearance. He inclined his head toward me in a gesture of polite acknowledgment. “I am Ignis Scientia, a friend of Prince Noctis. I trust you’re feeling better?”

I looked between them, confusion flickering across my features as his words registered. My gaze snapped back to Noctis, wariness creeping into my expression.

“Prince?” I repeated, the word coming out sharper than I intended.

Noctis shifted in his chair, something like discomfort crossing his features. But before he could respond, the door opened again.

The sound of a cane tapping against marble preceded the man who entered—a measured, deliberate rhythm that commanded attention without demanding it. I knew immediately, with a certainty that bypassed conscious thought, that this was a king. It was in the way he carried himself, the quiet authority that radiated from his very presence. His face was weathered, lined with the weight of years and responsibility, and his dark hair was streaked with silver. He wore formal attire in shades of black and gray, a heavy chain of office gleaming around his neck.

Another man followed silently, his watchful eyes missing nothing as they swept the room before settling on me. He moved like a soldier, alert and ready.

The king’s gaze fell immediately on me, and something in his expression shifted. I saw it happen—the softening around his eyes, the tightening of his mouth. Recognition and disbelief warred across his features for a heartbeat before he mastered himself, his face smoothing into regal composure.

“Welcome to Insomnia,” he said, his voice warm despite its formality.

He seemed familiar. Something about the way he looked at me, the gentleness beneath his kingly bearing—it tugged at that empty place in my memory where my past should have been. But I couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t hold onto the feeling long enough to understand it.

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice smaller than I would have liked. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

The king waved away my apology with a graceful hand, the gesture somehow both dismissive and kind. “No trouble at all.” He turned slightly, addressing the others. “Noctis, Ignis, I would like to speak to our guest alone.”

His voice was gentle, but it carried the unmistakable authority of a king—the kind of voice that expected to be obeyed without question. I felt my stomach tighten with nervousness, despite Blaze’s reassuring presence on the headboard nearby.

Noctis hesitated, his eyes darting between me and his father. “Father, she’s still recovering. Perhaps I should stay–”

“A few minutes only,” the king assured him, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I simply wish to speak with her.”

Ignis placed a hand on Noctis’s shoulder. “Come, Noct. We’ll be just outside if needed.” He nodded respectfully to me, a gesture of reassurance, then guided the reluctant prince toward the door.

The silent man followed them out with one last assessing glance in my direction. His eyes lingered on Blaze for a moment, and I thought I saw something flicker there.

The door closed with a soft click that somehow sounded final in the suddenly quiet room.

The king settled himself in the chair Noctis had vacated, his movements careful and measured. He studied my face for a long moment, his gaze searching in a way that made me want to look away. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle.

“How do you feel?”

I clutched at the edge of the blanket, finding comfort in its tangible reality—the soft weave of the fabric, the warmth it provided. Something solid in a world that had become anything but.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice. “I promise I’ll leave as soon as I feel better. I don’t want to impose.”

The king smiled, and the expression transformed his weathered features, softening the lines around his eyes and mouth. For a moment, he looked less like a monarch and more like someone’s grandfather—warm, approachable, kind.

“There is no rush,” he assured me. “You are welcome here for as long as necessary.” He paused, adjusting his grip on his cane. “Tell me—do you remember where you were from? Your home?”

I opened my mouth to repeat what I had told Noctis—Boston, Massachusetts, America—but before the words could form, a sudden, sharp pain lanced through my head. I gasped, pressing my palm against my temple as the room blurred around me.

Behind my eyes, an image flashed with crystalline clarity: a beautiful garden, more vivid than any I had ever seen. Flowers bloomed in colors that shouldn’t exist—deep violet bleeding into silver, blues that seemed to glow from within, golds that shimmered like captured sunlight. And there, at the center of it all, stood a white door framed with climbing roses, their petals shimmering with an almost otherworldly light.

“There was a garden,” I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them. “With flowers everywhere, and a white door with roses…”

I blinked, startled by my own words. Where had that come from? The image was already fading, slipping through my fingers like water, leaving only the impression of beauty and belonging and something that felt achingly like home.

The king nodded slowly, and I saw it in his eyes—a knowing look, as if what I had said made perfect sense to him, even though it made none to me.

I shook my head, heat rising to my cheeks. “Sorry,” I said softly, embarrassed by my outburst. “I live in Boston.”

The king leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlacing over the handle of his cane. His expression remained gentle, but there was weight behind his words when he spoke.

“My dear,” he said quietly, “there is no place called Boston in this world. But I believe you. I believe you lived there.”

The world tilted beneath me. I gripped the blanket tighter, my knuckles going white. No place called Boston. The words echoed through my mind, hollow and impossible. If Boston didn’t exist here, then where was I? What was this place? How had I gotten here?

“I just want to go home,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “To Boston.”

From his perch on the headboard, Blaze called out softly—a sound of gentle disagreement that I deliberately ignored. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I didn’t want to consider that maybe, just maybe, Boston wasn’t where I was meant to be.

The king seemed to consider my words carefully, his gaze thoughtful as he stroked his beard. The silence stretched between us, filled with the weight of unspoken things. After a long moment, he spoke again.

“My son, Noctis, and his friends will be going on a trip soon,” he said. “They are supposed to meet a… friend. She may be able to help you return home. She has ways—abilities that few in our world possess.”

I leaned forward slightly, hope sparking in my chest despite my confusion. “She could help me get back to Boston?”

“It is possible,” the king said, nodding slowly. “She has a connection to powers beyond our understanding. If anyone can find a way to return you to your home, it would be her.”

I felt something loosen in my chest—the first real breath I had taken since waking up in this strange place. A chance. There was a chance I could go home, could return to the woods and the house where Freya’s memory still lingered, could pretend that silver doors and impossible gardens were nothing more than fever dreams.

“When do they leave?” I asked.

“Soon,” the king replied. “Within the week. If you are recovered enough to travel, you would be welcome to accompany them.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. A week. I could manage a week.

Blaze shifted on his perch, and I felt something through our bond—a complex tangle of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher. Hope and sorrow and something that felt almost like anticipation. I pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the king’s kind eyes and the promise of home.

“Thank you,” I said finally. “For everything. For helping me.”

The king’s smile returned, but there was something bittersweet about it now, something I couldn’t name. “You are most welcome, my dear.” He rose slowly from the chair, leaning on his cane. “Rest now. Regain your strength. Noctis will ensure you have everything you need.”

He moved toward the door, his steps measured and deliberate. But before he reached it, he paused and turned back to face me. His eyes held mine for a long moment, and I saw something there—recognition, maybe, or the ghost of an old grief.

“The garden you described,” he said quietly. “The white door with roses. Hold onto that memory. It may be more important than you realize.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he opened the door and stepped through, leaving me alone with Blaze and a thousand questions I didn’t know how to ask.

For a few minutes I was alone. I sat cross-legged on the bed, my back pressed against the ornate headboard, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. The afternoon light had shifted, casting longer shadows across the unfamiliar room. My fingers traced idle patterns on the silk coverlet as my mind raced through impossibilities—silver doors, vanished countries, kings who looked at me like they knew secrets I couldn’t remember.

The soft click of the door handle made me look up.

Noctis stepped inside, his movements quiet and deliberate. Blaze, who had been perched on the nightstand beside me, spread his wings and glided past the prince toward the balcony. I watched my guardian disappear through the open doors, his golden-brown form catching the sunlight before he settled on the railing outside.

I tensed instinctively, suddenly aware of how alone I was with this stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger at all. My shoulders crept up toward my ears before I forced myself to relax, unclenching my jaw and loosening my grip on the blanket pooled in my lap.

“How are you feeling now?” Noctis asked, hovering near the doorway as if uncertain whether to come closer.

“Better,” I said, offering a small, tentative smile. “The dizziness passed.” I reached up and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear, a nervous habit I’d never been able to break. “Your father–the King–he was nice. Kind, I mean.”

Noctis nodded, something flickering behind those blue eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “He told me you’ll be coming with us. On the trip.”

I nodded slightly, my fingers resuming their absent patterns on the coverlet. “If that’s okay with you,” I added quickly, not wanting to impose. The last thing I needed was to be a burden on people who had already done so much for me. “Your father said your friend might be able to help me. Maybe find a way for me to get back home.”

“Yeah.” Noctis nodded again, and this time he moved closer, crossing the space between the door and the bed with slow, measured steps. He stopped beside the wingback chair but didn’t sit, his hands finding his pockets in a gesture that seemed almost self-conscious. “We leave in the end of the week.”

Noctis finally lowered himself into the chair, his posture relaxing slightly as he settled into the familiar seat. “We’ll be traveling by car mostly. It’s a long journey to Altissia–that’s where my friend, Lunafreya, will be.”

Lunafreya…

I frowned, my gaze drifting down to my hands as the name echoed through my mind unbidden. Luna. The shortened form felt more natural somehow, more familiar, as if it had been worn smooth by years of use. The sensation was strange—like reaching for something in the dark and brushing against its edges without being able to grasp it.

“Luna…” I whispered, the name barely more than a breath on my lips.

When I looked up, I found Noctis staring at me with an intensity that made my heart skip. His blue eyes held something raw and unguarded for just a moment before he lowered his gaze, studying the floor with sudden interest.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken things. Then a soft growling noise cut through the tension, and heat flooded my cheeks as I realized the sound had come from my own stomach.

“Hungry?” Noctis asked, his voice carefully neutral. There was no teasing in his tone, no attempt to embarrass me—just a simple question offered without judgment.

I nodded, ducking my head slightly. “A little,” I muttered, wishing the bed would swallow me whole.

I glanced at Noctis and saw him already reaching for his phone, his movements casual and unhurried. “I can have some food brought up,” he said, thumbing through the screen. “If you want.”

Relief washed through me so strongly I nearly sagged against the headboard. The thought of navigating a formal dining room—all those unfamiliar faces, the weight of curious stares, the overwhelming enormity of this strange new world—made my chest tighten with anxiety. I nodded quickly, grateful beyond words.

Noctis scrolled through his contacts and selected a number, then pressed the phone to his ear. He waited a moment, his expression relaxed in a way that suggested this was a call he’d made a thousand times before.

“Hey, Specs,” he said. “Can you bring up some food for us? Rachel’s hungry.”

He paused, listening to whatever response came through the speaker.

“Yeah, whatever’s easy. Thanks.”

He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket with practiced ease. “Ignis will be up soon with something to eat,” he said, settling back into the chair. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “He’s the best cook I know, so you’re in for a treat.”

I blinked, surprise momentarily overriding my shyness. “He cooks?” The words came out before I could stop them. “I thought he was your advisor.”

Noctis tilted his head, a hint of amusement flickering across his features. “He is. Multi-talented.” His expression softened with something that looked like fondness. “Been looking after me since we were kids.”

Then his brow furrowed, realization dawning slowly across his face. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharpening with sudden interest.

“Wait,” he said. “How did you know Ignis was my advisor? I didn’t mention that.”

I blinked, the question catching me off guard. My mouth opened, then closed again as I searched my memory for the source of that knowledge. When had I learned that? The information had simply been there, as natural and unquestioned as knowing that water was wet or that fire burned.

“I…” I started, then stopped, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t know. I just… knew somehow.”

The words sounded inadequate even to my own ears. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? It was like the name Luna—familiar without context, known without memory.

I rubbed my temple, a dull ache beginning to form behind my eyes. The confusion was exhausting—knowing things I shouldn’t know, feeling connections I couldn’t explain. It was like trying to hold water in my cupped hands, watching it slip through my fingers no matter how tightly I pressed them together.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so confusing right now.”

I felt Noctis before I saw him move—a warmth at the edge of my awareness, a presence that somehow registered as safe even before his hand settled gently on my arm. The touch was light, careful, as if he was afraid I might startle like a wild animal.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” he said, his voice low and surprisingly tender. “You’ve been through a lot.”

I looked up at him, studying his face—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, those blue eyes that held storms and secrets in equal measure. Why did I feel like I knew him? Why did I feel safe with him so quickly, when strangers usually made me want to retreat into myself like a turtle into its shell?

The questions circled through my mind, unanswerable and persistent. My gaze traced the familiar-unfamiliar planes of his face, searching for something I couldn’t name. He was close now, closer than before, and I could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the tension he carried in his shoulders even when he was trying to be gentle.

Something in me reached out—not consciously, not deliberately—just an instinct older than memory, deeper than thought.

It was only when I heard knocking on the door that I realized my palm had settled against Noctis’s cheek in a gesture that felt achingly familiar. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, and he had gone completely still, frozen in place as if he didn’t want to say or move anything that might break this moment. His eyes had widened slightly, something raw and vulnerable flickering in their depths.

The knock came again.

Awareness crashed over me like a wave of cold water. I yanked my hand back as if burned, my cheeks flushing crimson with mortification. What was I doing? I had just touched a prince—a complete stranger—like we were something more than two people who had met hours ago.

“Sorry,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes. I stared down at my hands as if they had betrayed me, which in a way they had. “I don’t know why… I–I’m sorry.”

The door opened before Noctis could respond, and the same young man from before—Ignis—stepped in carrying a tray laden with covered dishes. He paused momentarily at the threshold, his sharp green eyes taking in the scene before him. If he noticed anything—the lingering tension, my burning cheeks, the way Noctis seemed to be collecting himself—he gave no indication. For that small mercy, I was desperately grateful.

“I brought something light,” Ignis said smoothly, approaching the bed with the tray balanced perfectly in his hands. “Nothing too heavy, given the circumstances. The doctor recommended easily digestible foods for the time being.”

Ignis placed the tray on the bed between us, and I saw that he had brought enough for two—a bowl of clear broth with delicate vegetables floating in it, crusty bread still warm from the oven, and what looked like some kind of herbed fish, all portioned out onto two plates. The aroma wafted up to me, and my stomach growled again, louder this time.

Noctis cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. “Thanks, Specs.” The words came out rougher than usual, and I noticed him shift in his chair, putting a bit more distance between us. His hand rose briefly to touch his cheek—the same spot where my palm had rested moments ago—before he seemed to catch himself and dropped it back to his lap.

Ignis turned his attention to me, his expression softening with professional concern. “How are you feeling now, Miss Rachel?”

“Better,” I answered, reaching for the bowl of broth. The warmth seeped through my fingers, grounding me in the present moment. “Much better, thank you.”

Ignis nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. “I’m glad to hear it. I shall arrange for someone to bring you clean clothes shortly. The royal tailors can provide something suitable for your stay here.” He adjusted his glasses with a practiced motion. “Please do not hesitate to ask for anything you might need. You are a guest of the Crown, and we wish to ensure your comfort.”

I nodded, touched by the genuine kindness in his voice. “Thank you. That’s… that’s very kind.”

“I shall return later to collect the dishes,” Ignis said, inclining his head in a slight bow. His gaze flickered briefly to Noctis—a look I couldn’t quite decipher—before he turned and made his way to the door. “Enjoy your meal.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Noctis and me alone once more. The silence that settled between us was different now, charged with the lingering electricity of that inexplicable moment before Ignis had arrived.

From his perch on the balcony railing, Blaze gave a small call—a short, decisive sound that I recognized immediately. I turned to look at him, listening to the message carried on that single note: hunting, returning soon, stay safe.

“Alright,” I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Be careful.”

With a graceful spread of his golden wings, Blaze launched himself into the air. The afternoon sunlight caught his feathers, transforming them into burnished bronze as he wheeled once above the balcony before disappearing into the vast sky beyond the Citadel walls.

Noctis watched him go, his eyes tracking the eagle’s flight until Blaze was nothing more than a distant speck against the clouds. Then he picked up his plate of food and settled back into the chair, his posture relaxing slightly now that we had something to focus on besides the awkwardness lingering between us.

“Where’s he going?” Noctis asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice.

“He went to hunt,” I answered softly, spooning some broth into my mouth. The flavor was delicate, perfectly seasoned—Noctis hadn’t been exaggerating about Ignis’s cooking skills. “Now that I’m safe, he can go find his own food and come back soon. He’s always been like that—won’t leave my side until he knows I’m okay.”

I hesitated, my spoon hovering over the bowl as I considered my next words. Something compelled me to share this, to offer him a piece of understanding that felt important somehow.

“Blaze seems to like you,” I said softly, glancing up at Noctis through my lashes. “And trust you.”

Something shifted in Noctis’s expression—a flicker of relief that he couldn’t quite hide. “How do you know?” he asked.

“He usually lets me know how he feels about someone,” I explained, setting my spoon down. “Through our bond. He’s protective–fiercely so. But he didn’t try to bite you or anything. That’s… that’s actually pretty significant, coming from him.”

Noctis let out a soft chuckle, the sound warming something in the room. “Good to know I passed the test.”

We ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the tension from before slowly dissolving into something more comfortable. I found myself stealing glances at Noctis as I worked through my broth and bread, watching the way he ate with a casual grace that seemed at odds with his royal status.

My gaze drifted to his plate, and I noticed something that made me pause. He had carefully pushed all the vegetables to the edge—the bright greens and orange carrots forming a neglected pile that he seemed determined to ignore.

“Not a fan of green?” I asked, gesturing to the abandoned vegetables with my fork. A hint of teasing crept into my voice despite my shyness.

Noctis shook his head, his nose wrinkling slightly in an expression that made him look younger, more boyish. “Never have been. Can’t stand the taste.”

I blinked at him, momentarily forgetting my nervousness in the face of such a declaration. “But vegetables are good for you,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “They help you grow strong and healthy.”

Noctis raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’m already grown.”

“That’s not–” I started, then caught myself, heat rising to my cheeks again. Who was I to lecture a prince about his eating habits? “Sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But Noctis just shook his head, that same soft amusement lingering in his eyes. “You sound like Ignis. He’s been trying to get me to eat vegetables for years.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” I murmured, taking another bite of my bread to hide my embarrassment.

“Maybe,” Noctis conceded, though his tone suggested he had no intention of changing his habits anytime soon. He stabbed a piece of fish with his fork, deliberately avoiding the vegetable pile. “But probably not.”

I found myself smiling despite everything—the strangeness of my situation, the confusion clouding my memories, the impossible reality of sitting in a prince’s bedroom eating dinner like this was somehow normal. There was something disarming about Noctis, something that made me forget to be afraid.

“You really should eat them,” I said quietly, emboldened by his easy manner. “At least try one.”

Noctis looked at me, then down at the vegetables, then back at me. Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. “You’re persistent.”

“Blaze says I’m stubborn,” I admitted. “He means it as a compliment. Usually.”

That earned me another chuckle.

Started listening to the Final Fantasy XV soundtrack and. I’ve literally been playing this game for maybe a month. How can this already make me emotional?