#{Under the Monster's Rule| Prince Regis} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparklecryptid · 3 years

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(internet is being wonky. have the next chapter of toward daylight here as well because internet is being bad)

ao3 link

Titus hates. He hates the woman in front of him, hates her and her spear and her magic. He hates Morgan more than he has a right to, more than he believes he should. The rational part of his mind telling him that she doesn’t deserve his hate, that she is not the Lucis Caelum that wronged him.

The other part of his brain sees her and remembers, remembers what he had done, remembers his time spent in a cage in Niflheim. In labs and on autopsy tables. He remembers and he hates that she reminds him of this. Of his flaws and the worst parts of him. Titus looks at Morgan and he wants to kill her.

Kingslayer he is already, what does it matter if he adds the blood of another royal to his hands? He already wades through rivers of gore with each step he takes, Morgan a steady and seething presence behind him. She hates him as well, he knows, she hates that Titus had taken what she thought was hers away from her. Yet they are stuck together, not out of worry, not out of love nor loyalty, but because they are two of a kind here. Trapped in bodies far too young for them and convinced that should they die no one else but the person next to them will get to strike that final blow.

There is a horrid comfort in that, Titus finds. The idea that Morgan will kill him if he steps out of line is more comforting than the sword on his back, more comforting than the idea that he might have a second chance. He has no desire to prove himself, no desire to try and right his wrongs. Titus knows what he has done, knows his crimes as well as the back of his hands. He knows there is no redemption for him. But if this gift - if the power Ramuh has bestowed upon him allows him to rip the head from Iedolas’ neck then it will have been worth it.

Titus is not a good man, cannot remember a time where he could earnestly call himself that, but if he can kill the Emperor of Niflheim then perhaps he can bring some form of peace to those who gave him their lives.

The spear is new and yet it slides easily into her armiger as though it was made to blend and meld with her magic.

Given it’s source, that doesn’t seem unlikely.

Morgan spares a glance at Titus, his face impassive as it has always been and yet without his scars and wrinkles lining his face he looks more like a surly teenager than someone who would one day be an Imperial General. He looks like a child, and Morgan feels a surge of anger in her as she thinks of what he has done.

He cannot be redeemed for it, she thinks, glancing at the sword Titus carries on his back. He cannot be redeemed for the fall of a city, for the blood that stains his every step. He cannot be redeemed or forgiven and she does not think that he can learn either.

Titus is Titus.

Titus is Glauca, and Morgan cannot think of him without feeling anything other than hate.

Morgan doesn’t dare call herself kind. Perhaps others do, perhaps others see the person she tries to be. Maybe they see a kind woman, an honorable woman, someone who would not hesitate to give her life for another. They would be wrong, for all that Morgan tries to project the image of kindness she knows herself better than anyone else; and Morgan knows that she cannot be called kind.

If she can call herself anything, it’s selfish. She cannot help but latch onto people, onto cities and places and things and call them hers. Morgan can’t help but take and take and take and she cannot recall a time she has ever given anything back equal to what she had taken. She’s selfish despite what her mothers family thought, and she has never had anything to give that felt like it amounted to the cost of what she had claimed as hers. Her mother called it love, said that all of them were like that, were selfish and wanting and that their love was enough to save them. But Morgan has always privately that this is a personal failing of hers; she has always tried to be kind in an effort to offset her selfish habit of thinking of people and places as hers without their permission.

Insomnia is not hers, Lucis isn’t hers, she is not royalty, has no gold blood in her veins that declares her so. She has no right to claim Lucis and it’s people as hers. Yet the moment she had set foot onto the Mainland she had felt something in her shift, had felt something in her roar to life before it quieted down again.

Mine, Morgan had thought, This is mine.

But it wasn’t it belonged to someone else. A line of kings and queens that Morgan had thought she had no connection to.

Then Insomnia fell, then she watched as a city that was hers but wasn’t began to fall apart. Morgan had watched her brothers and sisters in arms turn against each other and all she could think was that it was wrong. That those she had claimed as her own had no right to fight against each other. That this is not what she had fought and bleed for, that this is not what her Glaives had died for. Morgan had hesitated in striking down her comrades and it had cost her her life.

She regrets it. She regrets not being able to strike down those that had ripped themselves from her grasp. Morgan regrets not being able to go back and watch those who had turned against her and hers bleed and choke. She has never had the illusion that she was a tame thing, something in her blood always calling for vengeance against those who dared to take from her. Over the years she had learned to channel that fire into something productive, into the urge to better herself so that she had the option of tearing down those who thought to steal from her. Morgan knows that at some point she will have to let those she has claimed go, that she will let them go if they demand it but the thought of losing them still drags its teeth across her soul and leaves scars in it’s wake.

Morgan’s mother Raven had called her a dragon. Something proud and terrible and something that hates losing what it thinks of as it’s hoard.

When Morgan had stood at the feet of her mother’s spectral form and the dozens around her she thought that she finally understood why.

Her family was royalty, was born to the man who was healer and demon both. Morgan’s family had the blood of kings and queens and yet they hadn’t dared to make themselves known, hadn’t dared to present themselves to their sister line for fear of what would happen should Bahamut and his Blessed turn their gaze upon them.

Blood of the Dragon, she thinks as she gazes at Titus who sits across their meager campfire from her, Delight in the slaughter. Morgan would delight in Titus’ death she knows, she knows that it would bring her nothing but joy to slice through skin and sinew and watch Titus pay for what he has done but the part of her that’s dragon and fire demands that she stay her blade.

Demands that she ensure Titus know that he belongs to her. Titus may no longer be her Captain, may have been a traitor for as long as Morgan was in the Glaive but he is still hers, the irrational part of her says, still hers and she cannot let him go and get himself killed by anyone other than her.

Titus stares at her, eyes cold but burning with something Morgan has never seen before, and she cannot help but grin at him. Her smile is sharp, with too many teeth showing for it to be anything other than a threat.

“Your life belongs to me,” she tells him, “That sword? Doesn’t matter. You’re life is mine, and it’s to me you have to prove your worth.”

“Here I thought Ramuh was The Judge,” Titus says, tone dry and short as his gaze sharpens when it lands on her spear; ruby red and glinting in firelight, “And what of you? Who does your life belong to?”

Morgan thinks of Bahamut, of the blood she bears. She thinks of the damage The Warlord has already caused and can feel the air around her crackle with magic.

She reels it back in and speaks before Titus can question it.

“It doesn’t matter,” she tells him, “The one who burdened my line will die.”

“You sound sure of that.”

“Because I am.”

The more time Titus spends with Morgan, the more he realizes that she is completely untrained in the emotional aspects of her magic. She knows how to use it, knows how to weave spells and access her armiger. Morgan knows how to warp and phase through objects and enemies and yet it appears the two of them have been relying far too much on her Glaive training to guide her through the use of her magic.

There is no emotion tied to the magic given to the Glaives. There is only logic, only a set of rules to follow as you weave your spells. There is no need to control the rush of anger or the fear they feel in battle as their magic does not respond to it. Lucis Caelum’s however, are a different beast. Their magic is tied to their very being, to their mind and their emotions and Titus still clearly recalls the day where he saw Regis Rage. The then Prince’s eyes had gone a brilliant, glaring blue as the ground under him cracked and rattled with the force of his magic. The air had been full of aether, had caused friend and foe alike to drop to their knees and Regis had been cold throughout it, had rained destruction down upon his enemies without a second thought.

The Prince had waded through blood as though he belonged on a battlefield and not in a throne room, and in that moment, Titus had been ready to call the prince a monster.

He has never forgotten that moment. Has never forgotten the ease with which Regis had slaughter his way through an army before his retinue had calmed him and he collapsed.

Morgan has no retinue, no one to calm her should she Rage. Titus looks at her, looks at her and thinks on her declaration that he belongs to her. The thought of belonging to anyone makes him bristle, makes him want to murder the one who dared to lay their claim upon him. He belongs to no one but himself; even if that feels like a lie.

He will not kneel to another king.

But Morgan needs someone to at least try and teach her how to corral her emotion attuned magic, and Titus is the only one here.

He glances at her, and is once again struck by how young she is. Her face free of the worry lines that had gathered there. Her eyes free of the dark bags under them from the countless sleepless nights she had endured during her time as a Glaive.

She looks like someone Titus would have regretted killing once.

Titus hates her even more for that. But she is a danger, and needs to know.

“Wyrmwood,” Titus says, and her gold eyes narrow at him, “If you lose control. I will kill you.” Something vindictive and gleeful passes through Morgan’s face and she laughs at him.

He toys with the idea of killing her then and there.

“I don’t doubt you will,” she says, and Titus cannot help but wonder why that makes him feel guilty.

(He knows why.

He doesn’t want to admit it.)

They travel for two days before they come across a sign and Titus recognizes it. A single flame is etched into a sign post pointing east while a sprig of lavender points west.

Morgan raises her brow and laughs.

“Khara or Furia,” she spins around and taunts him, “Which way should we go, Titus?” The grin on her lips tells him that she is not leaving him.

“Don’t you have family to wonder about.”

“My mother is dead by this time,” Morgan informs him, “Which way do we go, former Captain of mine?”

Titus does not want to go to Clan Furia territory. Does not want to face his mothers clan after everything he’s done.

Can he trust himself not to slaughter them?

He does not know.

He wants to find out.

“Furia,” he says, and they head east.

#toward daylight we run verse

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secret-engima · 4 years

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I'm dying about the conspiracy theories! Is there someone that actually believes them, or sometimes has doubts? A glaive maybe? Does it become an inside joke at least, Ardyn making constant references to her Accursed status and all that, and Nox going with it while everyone else either sighs or thinks it's funny? 'The truth is' Ardyn says grandly one day 'I'm actually the founder king's older sister!' 'You could just say you don't want to go to the memorial for Mors, Ardyn' Regis sighs

Pffft *slaps table* I’m dying this ask made me legit wheeze.

Titus, being someone who was involved in Niflheim (if only briefly before Ardyn’s Spell happened) is actually one of the few who ... very secretly believes the conspiracy theories? Like- it makes sense to him in a really off the wall way. The way Nox acts, the scars, the lack of knowing how to Taur, the Quiet Days in the Hall of Arts. He’ll never ADMIT to it, but after watching the video in secret on one of his days off, he ... yeah okay. He might believe it just a bit. Again tho, he’ll NEVER admit it and will fiercely defend Ardyn from anyone who vocally does. One because excuse you that’s his Queen you’re slandering and two ... Ardyn is happy. Content. Alive and vibrant and loving. Does it really matter whether or not she USED to be anything other than what she is now? Titus frankly doesn’t think so, and so doesn’t care.

He does tend to make pointed comments on her status as a Normal Taur when she gets a little too trollish with her cryptid status, just to keep things under control.

No one else really believes it, though Cor has had doubts once in a while, but then brushes them off as stupid.

The Glaive are taking cues from their Captain on how to behave. Their superstitions would easily buy into the Accursed thing, but ... rule one of the old legends, if the monster falls in love with a taur (either platonic adoption like in the case of Nox or romantic like in the case of Cor) and loves that taur enough to shed their former skin as an immortal nightmare, under NO CIRCUMSTANCES do you provoke or try to remind the monster of what they once were. Ever. Nada. NOPE. You treat them like a normal taur and an accepted family member. Because yeah, Ardyn makes all sorts of jokes about it and finds the opinions of strangers amusing, but if ever pushed by someone with emotional leverage....

Well.

The legends give very good reasons while you never push a monster into reverting to its immortal, ravenous form.

So the glaives treat it as a joke too, they tease each other with in-jokes and laugh when Ardyn says something dramatic about her status as an eldritch abomination because yeah, it is funny. Because right NOW, Ardyn is just a normal Taur, the half-sister of their king and aunt of their Princes. The fact that she may or may not have ACTUALLY once been something Other is politely ignored.

And, as Libertus points out, she probably IS just a normal Taur with a bunch of mental eccentricities and not a former monster of any sort. It is exactly in Ardyn’s personality to make them doubt that fact just to see them squirm. The glaives all nod to this logic and feel their shoulders relax as suspicion washes away, because yeah, that makes just as much sense, if not more, than the “actually and eldritch immortal monster that gave up her mortality and monster form” thing.

Regis and Co and basically all non-Galahdians in the Citadel don’t buy it at all. It’s just baseless rumors. To be fair, they’ve seen some pretty crazy conspiracies before about other members of their group (like Cor being actually immortal via eating the hearts of his fallen enemies, the Lucis Caelums being vampires, Aulea being a witch that made Regis fall in love with her via a love potion, and Amicitia feathers granting good luck in romantic endeavors) so REALLY this is just the most viral of all the theories and Ardyn is just the kind of taur that likes making it worse. Not to mention all of the “Prince Nox is going to overthrow the king!!!!!” tabloid articles that keep coming out.

Ardyn totally says this one day. Just- grandly flings out her arms and cheerfully says that she is actually the older sister of the Founder King! Regis just rolls his eyes and says “Really, Ardyn, if you don’t want to come to the memorial for Mors you CAN just say so. I won’t mind.”

Ardyn lowers her arms and smirks, “Where would the fun in that be?”

#SE asks #diggingfordragons asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Nox!Taur verse #fem!ardyn #ffxv #taur au

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jungle321jungle · 4 years

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Sleeping In The Woods: One

It was never in Virgil’s plan to be a camp counselor, he had never been a fan of kids.

It was never in his plan to learn to enjoy each of the boy’s company, he had never wanted to learn the truths behind their fake smiles.

It was never in his plan to get wrapped up in things he didn’t understand, he had always preferred to keep to himself.

None of it was ever his plan, but he’d do whatever he’d have to save everyone- even if it means risking himself.

Ao3

General taglist: @ashensanity @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17

~~~~

One

Virgil had never been a fan of children.

They were loud, annoying, needy, and tried his patience to the point that driving off a cliff would be better than babysitting.

But when his mother had demanded that he get a job for the summer instead of: “becoming the newest piece of furniture in their home”, his father had unfortunately overheard. And of course because of truly cinematic timing, one of his coworkers had a son, Thomas, who would be working at Camp Storytime which was short a counselor.

Virgil already hated it at the sound of its name.

But upon research he had learned that due to being a camp for rich kids, the pay was very nice. So he had put on his best fake smile for that Skype interview where he had essentially lied to every question.

“Let's start easy, do you like kids?”

“Of course. Why would I be applying if I didn’t?”

The camp director had given a laugh, “So what age do you prefer?”

“I don’t really have a preference, but given I just graduated high school I’m not sure some of the older kids would really respect me.”

“Do you enjoy fairy tales? And all that goes with them? The younger kids are really into all of our themes. We have Pirate Days, and Royalty Days, and last summer we even had a Monster Day. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

“Yeah, it sounds fun. What’s not to like about being a pirate? Well, other than scurvy.”

Despite getting the job, Virgil was not one hundred percent he could pull off the facade necessary to get through the summer.

But with training ending and campers arriving in a couple days, he didn’t really have a choice.

“Alright now that general training rules and protocol have been drilled into your head, it’s time to find out which cabin you’ve got and get your rosters. So you’ve got the rest of the day to move in and start prepping.”

Virgil gave a heavy swallow as the papers were passed around. For the last few nights they had all shared one cabin while the others were being prepared for campers, but now he was going to have to move elsewhere and truly begin to prepare for responsibility.

Yay.

He just hoped he was paired with one of the more competent counselors.

“Oh I got the Prince Cabin with Jon,” Thomas commented handing the stack of papers to Virgil.

Virgil glanced over Thomas’s shoulder, “Nineteen of them, you enjoy that.”

Thomas shrugged, “What do you have?”

Virgil gave a breath and finally flipped through and pulled out the assignment sheet with his name in confusion.

While it clearly said which grade and cabin was his, 4th and Wizard Cabin, it only listed five names under campers.

“Only five?” Thomas asked in surprise. “There’s really not that many Wizards this year, huh?”

“I’m by myself,” Virgil realized after a short pause as he passed the papers on.

“Well yeah, the ratio is ten to one. So you lucked out with half that.”

Virgil blinked before looking Thomas in the eye, “But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Fake it till you make it? But hey, if you really need help I’m in the Cabin next door.”

Virgil mumbled a thank you in reply.

Another thing Virgil had never been amazing at was decorations. And yet he had been tasked with decorating the cabin in a “wizard theme”. He wasn’t even sure he knew what that meant. So for now he guessed, and decided he was going to over use glitter, make some wands out of something, and maybe throw some glow in the dark stars up- was that too young for fourth graders?

Oh well, they would have to deal with it.

“Your stars are in the wrong places.”

Virgil’s mouth had opened and closed as the kid walked past him to sit on a bottom bunk bed. He looked at Virgil with a bored expression from behind his glasses, “This one says Dante but I want to sleep here.”

“Logan Ackroyd,” his mother chided before he held out a hand. “I apologize, you said it was Virgil, right? I’m Patricia Ackroyd, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Virgil nodded slowly before he pulled off the “Dante” sign and moved to the Logan one to switch them, silently wondering why the name sounded familiar.

“Oh you don’t have to,” his mother tried. “I’m sorry he’s being difficult.” She then sent her son a look which he stiffened at. “Usually he holds himself with a better demeanor.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil told her switching the signs. “I figured that I might get a complaint if I labeled things anyway.”

“I notice there’s only five names?”

“Only five kids apparently.”

“Interesting. Well Logan, let's get you unpacked.”

Virgil made awkward small talk as they did so before the next campers voices could be heard as they approached.

“But why can’t we be in the Prince Cabin,” groaned a small voice before an exasperated voice replied,

“That one’s for fifth graders.”

“But I don’t want to be a wizard!”

“Me neither!”

“Doesn’t matter what you want!”

The voices turned out to belong to the two twins which had been on his list. Roman and Remus Regis. Along with them were their parents- who did not look happy to be there. But then again the movie stars that they were, he guessed they didn’t really love the idea of being in a dirty forest.

“Sentor!” Their mother, Daniela Regis he recalled, cried suddenly excited going over to where Logan’s mother had been kneeling by a very small dresser (Virgil silently wondered the point of having dressers at all when each looked like they held four shirts at once). “It’s so good to meet you again.”

Senator?

Well, these were supposed to be rich kids.

Logan’s mother stood and gave a well practiced smile as she dusted off her skirt. “Hello Daniela.”

“You the counselor?”

Virgil turned away from the women to the man who had entered, movie star Michael Regis. Virgil hoped he was good at poker faces, “Yes. I’m Virgil.”

He nodded and set down the two suitcases beside the beds, “Keep them in check.”

“Got it...”

With that the man moved beside his wife to chat up senator Ackroyd.

“I’m Remus,” one the twins stated looking over to Logan. Virgil made a mental note that Remus was the one with a light patch in his hair. “This is my brother Roman. I’m gonna guess you’re Logan?”

Logan looked away from the conversation in front of him and gave a stiff nod, “Yes.” The boy said it with such finality that made it clear that he didn’t want to be spoken to, but that sentiment was apparently ignored.

“Have you ever been to a camp like this before?” Roman asked him.

“Do you like pranks?” Remus added.

“I’m gonna unpack,” was Logan’s reply as he moved to do so.

“Logan,” Mrs. Ackroyd tried, but the Regis’ were not letting up.

“Really? You know the director?”

For an actress Mrs. Regis was not very good at sounding as if she hadn’t rehearsed.

“Did you make the wands?” Roman asked appearing at Virgil's side.

“Uh yeah... I did. Why?”

The wands weren’t anything too special. He had simply taken a few cool looking sticks and cut them down with a pocket knife. And then Thomas had thought they were plain and had doodled on some mainly out of boredom.

“Ollivander said the wand chooses the person. And you chose for us.”

Virgil blinked, before he came up with a quick response, “You're not eleven yet. These are trainer wands.”

The boy seemed surprised by the response, but with that he backed off. Unfortunately Logan didn’t.

“Do we have to wear robes?”

“It’s summer so I think we can make an exception. Plus, we’re not British.”

Whatever was going to be his response was cut off by the sound of loud laughter from outside. And then moments later two women and a little boy entered. The first woman Virgil recognized as the head counselor as Delia, but the other woman looked like she should be anywhere but the middle of the woods.

She was tall, skinny, wearing a tube top and a very short skirt with tall heels. Her long dark hair was done in a fancy way and her make up was perfect too.

It just didn’t make sense. At all.

“I was coming to check in and I bumped into another one of yours,” Delia smiled. “This is Charlotte Ekans and her son Dante.”

Beside the super out of place looking woman Dante gave a smile and wave and Virgil forced himself not to stare at the boy’s half scarred face.

“I’m Virgil,” Virgil introduced. He then motioned to an empty bunk bed, “That spot over there is yours. Since there’s only five of you guys each get a top and bottom bunk to yourselves.”

“So you’re missing one?” Delia observed. “That’s not bad. Alright I’m heading to the next Cabin.”

“Michael! How are you?” Virgil’s attention was redirected as Mrs. Ekans walked up to Mr. Regis and pulled him into a tight hug. “How long has it been?”

“Hello Charlotte,” Mrs. Regis said as she gave a tight lipped smile. “I didn’t know your son went to this camp?”

“This is his second summer,” she replied letting go of Mr. Regis to hug his wife.

She pushed away near instantly, “We should be going Michael.”

The two left then with a few parting words to the Senator- and yet none to their sons.

“How are you Patricia?” Mrs. Ekans asked heading back to Dante to help him unpack.

“I’m fine,” Mrs. Ackroyd replied. “I do thank you for clearing my space to breathe.”

“You can always count on me for anything ... you know that.”

“Can I change my sign?” Dante asked Virgil. “I like to go by Dee.”

Dammit he should’ve thought about what the kids preferred.

“We have arts and crafts tomorrow,” Virgil started. “You could make a new one?”

Dee nodded satisfied as he pulled out his bedding, “That works.” He then looked to the other three boys in the room, “I’m Dee. What’s your names?”

“I’m Roman!” Remus answered eagerly. Wait. That was Remus wasn’t it? “What happened to your face?”

Virgil sucked in a breath quickly as he took a step forward, “Roman- Remus, either lets not ask people personal questions like that, okay?”

But apparently it hadn’t bothered Dee as he leaned forward on his bed, “Take a guess.”

Remus(?) gave a large smile, “You were abducted by aliens?”

“Nope.”

“Attacked by a shark!”

“No.”

“Wouldn’t something like a car crash make more sense?” Logan interrupted. “Or just being born with it?”

“But that’s boring,” Remus complained. “Ooo! What about jumping out of a speeding car?”

“Logan we mind our own business,” his mother stated sternly.

“It’s fine,” Dee told her with a smile. “And no to the speeding car.”

“Bear attack?”

“Nope.”

“Cannibal.”

“Nope.”

“Lochness monster- no Bigfoot!”

“Still no.”

“I’m going to figure it out,” Roman(?) replied.

“You won’t,” he smiled back before he pointed to the twin who hadn’t been speaking. “So he's Roman. What’s your name again?”

“Remus, I’m the one going gray from having the stress of a younger twin.”

Roman hit his brother with a pillow in reply.

Virgil blinked as he ran the encounter over in his head. How did he know that wasn’t Roman when Remus has introduced himself as his brother?

“Alright Lo, I think you’re all set,” Mrs. Ackroyd was saying as she pulled her son into a hug. “Remember the rules?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she pressed a kiss to his hair. “Love you.” She went to leave, but she hesitated at the door. “Charlotte are you perhaps free this evening?”

The other mother gave her a smile, “I have plans. But I can walk out with you? And if you’re feeling generous enough, could you give me a ride back? We were dropped off.”

“Then how were you planning to get back in the first place?”

“Who knows.”

The two women left then leaving Virgil alone with four kids.

The living nightmare was beginning.

He gave a sigh as he sat on one one of the unused beds.

The pay is great. The pay is great. The pay is great.

“So what do we do now?” Roman asked him.

Virgil cringed, “Well the plan is just for us to hang out here for the rest of the afternoon until dinner. After that is a campfire then bed. Then tomorrow we have a full day with swimming, arts and crafts, games and other things.”

“Can we go explore?” Remus asked.

Virgil shook his head, “Sorry, but no. There’s only one of me and I need to stay here in case our last camper shows up. But we can all play a game in here?”

“What kind of game?”

“Um... that depends on what you guys like.”

“Let’s play mafia!” Dee cheered after a moment.

“We need more people for that,” Logan disagreed. “Are there any board games?”

“No,” Virgil answered. “They’re in a different building.”

“Let’s play quack-a-dilly-oh-my,” Roman suggested.

With that they had gathered in a circle on the floor and begun to play- until an argument about the lyrics had arose.

“It’s eat a marshmallow,” Logan said crossing his arms.

Remus shook his head, “No it’s your face is turning yellow!”

“It’s yellow,” Dee agreed while Roman nodded. “Right Virgil?”

Virgil shrugged, “I grew up with both.”

“See? He’s on our side.”

“That's not what he said,” Logan disagreed.

“Either way you’re outnumbered,” Roman announced. “So what does your opinion matter?”

“Everyone’s opinion matters,” Virgil tried but he didn’t think he was heard.

As the argument escalated Virgil gave a groan, thankfully he was saved by the door opening and a boy walking in beside Thomas.

“This one got a bit lost,” Thomas explained setting down the kid’s bag. “This is Patton.”

Patton gave a wide smile, “Hi! What are your names?”

While the other boys stood up to introduce themselves Virgil moved over to Thomas. “Where’s his parents?” He asked quietly.

Thomas gave a shrug, “He was just left at the entrance.”

Virgil gave an awkward nod and looked back to the boys.

“Patton, are the lyrics to quack-a-dilly-oh-my ‘eat a marshmallow’ or ‘your face is turning yellow’?” Logan asked.

Patton seemed confused by the question but he answered anyway as he put his small backpack on his bed, “It’s marshmallow- oh cool a wand!”

“See?”

“You’re still outnumbered,” Roman reminded him.

Logan gave a frown before he turned to Thomas. But Thomas was faster, “Well I need to get back to my own cabin.”

~~~~

Someway, somehow, Virgil managed to survive the afternoon. He had helped Patton set up his bed (before the twins because they hadn’t actually done more then dump stuff out) and then it had been time to take a small tour.

He showed them places around the camp, from the fields to the bathrooms, to the dining hall for dinner and a few others in between. And for a little while Virgil thought he could actually do this.

And then a scream woke him in the middle of the night.

Virgil shot up from his bed and promptly fell to the floor. He hurried out his room and into the next one hitting the light as he did. When he did he found Remus and Dee laying on the floor cackling beside Roman who was comforting a crying Patton. Meanwhile Logan gave the world a glare from where he had sat up in his bed.

“He’s fine,” Dee laughed.

“The spider is fake Patton!” Roman was trying.

“Can we reenact that?” Remus asked between gasps of laughter. “Virgil can take a video!”

“You’re all stupid,” Logan mumbled flopping back down and pulling a blanket over his head.

Virgil gave a deep breath calm down his now quick beating heart, but his fear as he did his worry was replaced by anger. “All of you, go to bed!”

“Some of us are trying!” Logan shouted back.

“It's the first night of camp,” Dee frowned. “Did you expect us to sleep?”

Virgil gave the child an annoyed glare, “I expect you to be quiet enough that I can sleep.”

“Have you ever been to camp before?”

“Get in your bed. I don't give a-” He forced himself to take a breath. “Just get in your bed and be quiet. All of you... Patton do you want water or something?”

Patton had calmed slightly and shook his head as he wiped at his eyes, “‘M okay.”

Virgil nodded and headed back to his room. “Just be quiet. No. Be silent. Understood?”

“Yes Mr. Virgil!” Remus mocked climbing into his bed.

It was going to be a long summer.

~~~~

One - Two

Welcome to yet another AU!

As with all my aus the original idea was to have happy fluff throughout because I realize I’ve done all the sides as kids except Dee. But if you can read the description that’s not where we will end up.

But welcome to the ride!

#virgil is already so done #angst will come #so will fluff #summercampau #kid fic #kid!roman #virgil sanders #kid!remus #kid!logan #kid!patton #kid!deceit #sympathetic deceit #character!thomas #sanders sides fic #sanders sides

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kumeko · 4 years

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Title: highly improper

A/N: For scientias for the FFXV Secret Santa! I saw the Merlin AU prompt and this just jumped from my hands! XD I didn’t expect to write this much! Originally I was going to put Luna in too but I couldn’t make her fit.

…

Ignis stood on his tippy toes, his arms hanging onto the crib bars tightly as he peered down at the baby sleeping inside. Deep asleep, the baby lay flat on his back, his limbs splayed as he dreamt. Wisps of black hair crowned his head and Ignis tried to imagine the King’s golden crown on this tiny head.

“Watching the baby again, Ignis?” King Regis softly stepped inside, quietly approaching them. His footsteps were muffled on the plush carpet. Looking down in the crib, he pulled the blanket tighter around the little prince with a smile. “Finally asleep, I see.”

“He stopped crying an hour ago,” Ignis dutifully reported, untangling his arms. He quickly bowed to the king. “Sire.”

“I see.” The king’s brow knit, his expression darkening slightly. “He’ll need all the rest he can get. His destiny is a heavy one. The gods have tasked him with saving our kingdom, our world.”

Ignis’s eyes widened. Noctis’s hands could barely wrap around Ignis’s finger, and they were expected to not only rule a kingdom, but also save the world? “Really?”

“Really.” Regis crouched down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “When that times comes, he’ll need a companion. Will you be there for him?”

“Of course,” Ignis chirped, no doubts in his mind. If he could help his father, help his king, help the prince, he’d do in a heartbeat. He glanced at the prince between the bars, at his chubby red cheeks and tiny fists.

Noctis would save the world one day.

Ignis just had to make sure he got there.

ii.

“Your highness, it’s morning,” Ignis announced, entering Noctis’s chambers. He closed the heavy wooden door behind him when it was apparent that the prince hadn’t awoken yet. As usual. There were many ways to describe Noctis but an early riser was not one of them. Clicking his tongue, Ignis drew open the thick curtains, flooding the room with the bright morning light. “Wake up.”

Noctis groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

“Zero more minutes,” Ignis corrected, rubbing his forehead tiredly. They played this game every day and he didn’t know who the bigger fool was—Noctis for thinking it’d work, or Ignis for expecting him to change. “You have jousting and sword practice this morning, before we take a tour of the guards. You barely have time for breakfast, let alone sleeping in.”

“One more minute,” Noctis recanted, as though that made much of a difference. The blankets tangled around his legs as he burrowed deeper into his pillows.

“Zero means zero, your highness.” With a sigh, Ignis stepped forward and yanked the bedsheets off. The usual pattern it was, then.

Noctis shivered as the chilly air hit him. “It’s so cold!” Languidly, he stretched his arms above his head as he slowly sat up. “Do I issue the orders or you?” he complained, his tone belligerent.

“I am waking you up,” Ignis pointed out, rolling his eyes as he opened Noctis’s drawers. Selecting a fine woolen tunic and matching pants, he laid them down on the bed. “You slept a good two hours longer than I did, sire.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Noctis sighed, balefully glaring up at him.

“Sire, if you continue to look at me like that, I will call Prompto to wake you up. Or maybe Gladiolus would do?” Ignis crossed his arms, raising his brow. In this room, in the familiarity of their years, he could get away with little challenges like this.

“No, no, I’m good.” Noctis sat up immediately, giving up the jig. Ignis wasn’t sure which of the two scared Noctis more—Prompto’s overenthusiasm or Gladiolus no-nonsense attitude. He slipped off the bed, his hands on his back as he stretched backwards until a soft crack was heard. “So, what’d you say was first? Jousting?”

“Yes, you’ve missed the last two practices so Gladiolus will be a little…aggressive,” Ignis explained.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Noctis winced, spreading his arms out.

“Very lightly,” Ignis agreed, taking a deep breath before he pulled off Noctis’s shirt. He could do this. He could—the sight of Noctis’s chest, his pale skin bathed in the sunlight, made his mouth go dry. His heart beat so hard, he wasn’t sure how Noctis couldn’t hear it. Swallowing, he turned away as he folded Noctis’s shirt. It was okay, he just had to put the new shirt on. He had this.

“I’m going to get so bruised.” Noctis shuddered. “Make sure the creams are ready, I’m going to need them.”

“Y-yes.” He could feel his smile strain. Creams meant rubbing them on meant touching Noctis—

This had been so much easier when they were children.

iii.

“HIYAAAH,” Gladiolus roared, his mount charging down the field like an angry boar. His horse was already a monster at eighteen hands. With Gladiolus’s bulk added on top of it, it was like watching a titan attack a fly.

A fly that also happened to be the prince.

Noctis swung his lance but it was too late. He grunted as he took the full brunt of the attack, falling hard onto the ground.

“Your Highness!” Ignis ran up the field. They were wearing armour and the lances were wood, but either way that had to hurt. Crouching next to Noctis, he quickly helped his liege into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

“No,” grunted Noctis, a scowl on his face as he yanked off his helmet. He glared at Gladiolus. “You could go a little easier, you know.”

“Then you would never learn, your highness,” Gladiolus answered cockily, and perhaps it was a good thing they had all known each other since childhood. Any other noble would have had his head for the way he acted. “Now, get back on your horse.”

“So you can murder me?” grumbled Noctis. Despite his frown, he slowly pushed himself off the ground.

“Wait!” Ignis grabbed one of Noctis’s arms. “Are you sure you want do this? You could be hurt. You might already be hurt. Maybe we should check with—”

“Worrywart.” Noctis’s frown melted into an exasperated smile and he shook his head. “This happens every day, you don’t need to be so worried all the time. Nothing’s broken, just a few bruises. I wish he’d hold back a little.”

“Me too,” Ignis muttered, biting his lip. Worry welled within nonetheless, a fear that Noctis’s smile couldn’t erase.

Noctis smirked over his shoulder at his knight. “Besides, we can’t keep Gladdy waiting.”

Astride his horse, Gladiolus lifted his visor. Even from here, Ignis felt a shiver run up his spine from the cold look he shot them. “You’ve been spending time with Iris.”

“...it is better to deny that,” Ignis whispered.

“It’s not like he can kill me,” Noctis retorted quietly.

He shook his head. “There are some things worse than death.”

iv.

“Again?” Cindy lifted the heavy plates of armour with ease, giving a low whistle as she inspected the dents and cracks. She frowned as her finger traced a particularly ragged line, a frown that grew deeper as she realized just how much damage Noctis’s armour had gone through. Poking her head over it, she glared at Ignis. “Really? Do you know how much work I put in this?”

“I do, and I am sorry again that we have to take so much of your time.” Ignis rubbed his neck awkwardly, feeling flustered under her angry gaze. No matter how many times he’d faced it, it never got easier, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that her grandpa had retired, leaving the castle smithy to her. At least there was one less glare at him.

“I just repaired it two days ago!” She set the armour down on her work bench. Crossing her arms, she turned back to him. “What’re you doing, beating it with a hammer? Fighting in a war? I’ll have you know none of the other guards, knights, or nobles give me half as much trouble as the prince.”

Because none of them are trained by Gladiolus, Ignis almost retorted. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and offered a sympathetic smile. “Your work is exceptional, which is why the prince knows he can trust this matter to you.”

“The prince knows I can’t refuse, otherwise I would have stopped taking any work from him.” Cindy sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know why I try with his things, I just know it’ll get destroyed.”

Sensing her crack, Ignis walked next to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Your work is exemplary and should be the example for any blacksmith.”

“Yeah, yeah, just buttering me up.” She grinned anyways. Grabbing a pair of ash-covered gloves, she glanced at Ignis. “Do you give this sweet talk to the prince too?”

Ignis replied with an elegant, “Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t have eyes?” Cindy snorted, pulling out her hammers as she set up her work bench. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How he looks at you.”

“Why I never!” Ignis protested, his cheeks burning at the insinuation. The absolutely false, definitely not true accusation.

Cindy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t—”

“I definitely haven’t,” Ignis confirmed quickly, wanting to squash this idea before it found purchase. And definitely before anyone else heard it.

“I see.” She grinned impishly and he had seen that expression on Prompto’s face too many times before to know where this was going. He should never have introduced her to the stable boy. “Well, if you say so.”

Sensing a trap, he scrutinized her warily. “I do.”

“Well, he is a prince after all.” She shrugged, still smiling slyly. “It’d be improper to act rashly.”

“It’d be improper, period,” Ignis corrected her firmly.

“Which is why you’re waiting for the perfect, romantic moment,” Cindy continued, not hearing him at all.

“I’m not!” Ignis growled.

Cindy laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

Noctis glanced over his shoulder, his hands loose on the reins of his steed. “It’s strange. I keep expecting to see someone behind us.”

Ignis looked over his shoulder as well. Behind them, the forest path was completely empty for once. There were no signs of the usual guards, no cloaked knights on vigilant alert as they sat tall on their horses. It even sounded quieter than normal, without the extra whickers from other horses. “Me too, your highness. Though we are still within the castle’s forest, so it should be safe enough here.”

“No, that’s not what I…” Noctis ran a hand through his hair, before giving a shy smile. “I just meant, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. Without actually having to worry about work or lessons or anything.”

“Oh.” Ignis flushed lightly as he realised that they were alone. Truly alone. No servants in the next room, no guards in the shadows, nothing. Not even the prying eyes of villagers. “You’re right, it has been a while. Not since we were children, I believe, your highness.”

“Forever, basically. And, just call me Noctis.” When Ignis opened his mouth to protest, Noctis shook his head. “It’s fine, we’re alone.”

That didn’t make it fine, not in the least. They were still prince and attendant, still divided by an invisible barrier that remained in place no matter who was there. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from uttering, “Noctis.”

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled whole-heartedly, his eyes crinkling just so, and Ignis stared, transfixed. “Just like that. I kinda miss when we were kids—you used to be less formal.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Slightly less formal.”

“A problem I have thoroughly corrected,” Ignis finally replied, regaining his voice. His heart was in his throat and it was hard to keep his voice calm, to keep himself collected. He forced his eyes way and stare at the path ahead instead. At least his mount kept a steady pace, trotting along without any realizations of the issues his rider was having.

“It wasn’t a problem. I liked it better that way.” Noctis leaned back slightly, staring up at trees. His bangs covered his eyes and his next words were careful. “We were…closer then.”

Ignis peeked at him from the corner of his eyes, unable to read his liege’s expression. “We grew up, as children are wont to do.”

“I guess.” Noctis looked down at his hands for a long moment. The only sound was the steady clip-clop of their horses as they traversed the dirt path. A deep breath and he stood up straight, his jaw set. Pulling his horse to a stop, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Pressing his right leg, Ignis guided his horse to turn around and ride back to Noctis. Stopping next to him, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“This. All of this.” Noctis shook his head once more. “We…we don’t have to grow apart.” As he spoke, his hand reached out, his fingers almost brushing Ignis’s hand. “I don’t want that, I want us to—”

It had been easier, when they were children. When Ignis could touch and be touched by Noctis and think nothing of it. When he could watch Noctis get hurt and think only of his improvement, when he could spend long hours helping with paperwork and not feel the small gap between their shoulders as though it were a physical presence.

But they weren’t children, not anymore, and Ignis could only see the possibilities in that potential touch, the torrent of words within him just waiting to pour out. His heart was in his throat, full and ready to speak, but he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

It was almost reflexive, his flinch. His draw back. Ignis pulled away, just out of reach.

Noctis stared at him, shocked. His eyes widened, hurt crossing his face, his fingers still hovering where Ignis’s used to be.

Immediately, Ignis realized he’d made the wrong move. “Noctis…”

“Fine.” Noctis’s fingers curled into a fist, his brow narrowed. With a click of his tongue, he urged his horse into a gallop, leaving Ignis behind in the dust.

vii.

“So this is where you’re sulking!” Pitchfork hanging off his shoulder, Prompto entered the box stall. The door closed behind with a click and he cocked his head. “I think the prince’s horse is all cleaned now.”

“I’m not sulking,” Ignis retorted, barely sparing the brazen interloper a glance before returning to Noctis’s black stallion, Regalia. A brush in hand, he firmly stroked the mount’s side. “And I need to just finish checking his hooves.”

“I swear you go overboard on everything.” Prompto rolled his eyes, setting his pitchfork on the ground. He crossed his arms over the handle and rested his chin on his arms. “And you are totally sulking.”

“I’m not,” Ignis snapped back, shooting him a dirty glare. “Don’t you have more important matters to attend? Your job? These stables are in need of cleaning.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me.” Prompto pouted, his cheeks puffed and lip jutted out. “Is it because you and Noctis fought?”

“Your highness,” Ignis corrected automatically, they’d had this argument too many times before. Registering what Prompto said, he froze. “What makes you think we fought?”

“The way he’s trashing Gladdy?” Prompto gave a playful grin. “And so it was a fight?”

“I…I didn’t…” Ignis slumped his shoulders. “Is he that angry?”

“Hmmm…” Prompto tapped his chin, considering it. “Well, Gladiolus did say he’d never seen Noctis so aggressive before. And Noctis kinda just glared at me when I brought up your name. So. There’s that.”

Ignis closed his eyes. Well, he did deserve this, rebuking the prince like that. He didn’t even let the prince finish speaking before reacting, it could have just been something ordinary, like a renewal of friendship. “I didn’t intend for this.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Prompto softened. Setting the pitchfork to the side, he approached Ignis and squeezed his shoulder. “You always mean well. Sometimes too well.”

“It’s just…” Ignis stared at the black hide of Regalia, as though the answers could be found in the whirls of his hair. “I want to make sure he’s happy. Always. To help him with his duties and try to ease the burden he has.”

And to keep these feelings of his sealed away, forever.

“I know you do. You’ve always put him first. But,” Prompto asked thoughtfully, peering up at him. “You know, he always seems happiest with you. Have you ever thought of that?”

viii.

The evening breeze was chilly and Ignis shivered as he nudged open the doors to the rooftop. On the western tower, there was no night-watch or prying eyes. Only the roosting pigeons knew of what transpired here, their coos filling the air as Ignis stepped out onto the exposed roof.

Ahead of him was Noctis, sitting on the bench they’d set up when they were children. A secret base, as the prince liked to call it. A place where he could be alone. He’d often come here when he was angry or sad. All of which meant that Prompto hadn’t been teasing earlier. Or at least, only teasing.

Saying nothing, Ignis walked forward carefully, a small tray in his hands. The heat from Noctis’s favourite soup wafted up to his nose and he was glad that the food was keeping warm. “Your highness.”

Noctis didn’t say anything, his back rigid, his eyes staring straight ahead as the sun slowly set.

Ignis hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he quickly said, “Noctis.” His ears burned.

At that, Noctis turned his head, acknowledging his presence. He still didn’t say anything but he moved to the side, making room on the bench for him. Grateful, Ignis sat down next to him, setting down the tray on the space next to him. He folded his hands on his lap. Noctis softly inhaled, exhaled, a sound as familiar as Ignis’s own heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

Noctis didn’t reply.

“I…” Ignis couldn’t say why he really pulled away. Couldn’t break this fragile thing between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Softly, Noctis sighed. He rested his forehead on his hand, his head angled slightly to look up at Ignis. “I know. You never do.” His expression was still dark. “It’s just…I…” Gritting his teeth, he curled into himself. “Never mind, just…just forget about what I did.”

“Never.” Ignis shook his head. Noctis had never looked so small before. So vulnerable. And it was all because of him and his inability to keep his feelings in check. “I also miss how close we used to be. It’s just…our positions…you’re the prince and I…”

“Is that it?” Noctis sat up and leaned close, too close. Ignis barely had time to register his presence before Noctis’s hands were on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Is that all that’s stopping you?”

“Noctis?” Ignis glanced nervously at the door. If anyone found them in such a compromising situation…heads would roll. His own, possibly.

“Is that all?” Noctis repeated, unconcerned.

“It’s a big thing,” Ignis protested. “You’re the heir to the throne. I’m a commoner.”

“You’re right, I’m the heir to the throne.” Noctis leaned closer and Ignis could see his long eyelashes, the flecks of grey in his eyes. His hands shook slightly. “So who can tell me that this is wrong?” The gap between their bodies, their lips, was so small. Ignis could feel Noctis’s heat radiating onto his skip, feel his breath on his face. “Who can tell me not to love you?”

Love? Ignis’s mind went blank. Noctis closed the gap, kissing him hungrily and any thoughts he still had disappeared entirely. All he could feel was Noctis, his hands digging into Ignis’s back as he held him tight, deepening the kiss. And god, his lips were soft, so soft, just as he’d imagined for years, and his arms were strong and—

And he was kissing the prince. Ignis pulled back in a panic. “Your highness!”

“Noctis,” Noctis admonished, a small pout on his face. “What’s wrong now?”

“I…you…this is highly improper!” Ignis blushed a furious red.

“I thought…” Noctis turned red himself, retracting quickly. Realization dawned on his face. “This…you didn’t mean…” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god.”

“No, I did—I mean, I didn’t…” Ignis took a deep breath, trying to regain some measure of coherence. “You like me.”

Head still buried in his hands, Noctis nodded.

“Oh.” Ignis felt his skin burn even hotter, his heart doing funny things inside his chest. Noctis loved him too. This wasn’t a one-sided pining. Not now, at least.

Suddenly, he understood Noctis’s reaction when they were horse riding. He’d taken it as a rejection. Resting a hand on Noctis’s back, his other hand pried Noctis out of hiding and gently pulled him up into a seated position. “Me too,” he admitted. “I like you too.”

Noctis blinked, confused. “Then…”

“I…” Ignis touched his lips with a hand. “That was…” He smiled, pleased for a moment, before remembering himself. Remembering who they were. “That was improper.”

Noctis frowned. “Ignis, I’m the prince. I’ll decide what’s improper or not.”

“But—”

“I love you, but sometimes you talk entirely too much.” Noctis wrapped an arm around Ignis, the other hand tangled in his hair. “Do you love me?”

There was no where to turn, to hide. “Yes,” Ignis admitted, unable to lie when Noctis was staring at him so intensely.

“Good, that’s all I need.” Noctis smiled brightly and leaned forward to kiss him again.

In the part of Ignis’s brain that was still functioning, he hoped he’d remembered to lock the door.

#ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #ignoct #noctnis #ffxv #ff15 #gladiolus amiticia #prompto argentum #cindy aurum #fanfic #i like playing with the merlin au #and this thing turned into a monster #ahahah

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mediaeval-muse · 4 years

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Video Game Review: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (CD Projekt Red, 2015)

Genres: action RPG, fantasy, open world

Premise: Geralt of Rivia returns for a third installment in the Witcher series, seeking his lost adopted daughter, Ciri, who is being pursued by the spectral warrior band, the Wild Hunt. Along the way, Geralt runs into some old friends, former lovers, and a whole lot of monsters.

Platform Played On: PC (Windows)

Rating: 4/5 stars

***Full review under the cut.***

I am evaluating this game based on four key aspects: story, characters, gameplay, and visuals.

Story: I liked that this game dug more into Geralt’s past. Witcher 1 and 2 have been teasing Geralt’s history with Yennefer, Ciri, and the Wild Hunt for a while, and we finally get to engage with that head-on. About 1/3 of this game is spent pursuing Ciri and checking out all the places she went, so personally, I didn’t find that part of the plot exciting. I may be biased, though - I don’t really like plots which are based on following someone’s trail.

But while I did like that we dove into Geralt’s past, this game also simultaneously felt disjointed from the other two. Things seemed to be dropped in at random. For example, the “Last Wish” quest had no emotional buildup, and we got no hints of Geralt and Yennefer’s magical bond in the previous two games. I would have liked to see more exploration of this bond before players finally deal with it. Also, the other two games had Geralt struggling to overcome his amnesia, but when we get to Witcher 3, he seems to remember everything without any problems. I understand that Wticher 3 is meant, in some ways, to be accessible to players who haven’t played the first two games, but I would have liked to see more continuity.

Main plot aside, I very much appreciated that there seemed to be a lot more folkloric flavor in this game than in the previous two. Side quests had Geralt encounter beasts with a lot of lore behind them, so it was fun to get to learn about the worldbuilding through these monsters.

However, the conflict between humans and non-humans, which was so central in Witcher 2, is completely a non-issue in this game. There are still dwarves, elves, etc. and some pockets of Scoiatel bands, but the game says that the political conflict is more pressing than people’s racism, so everyone’s largely forgotten about how much they hate non-humans (except moments of random brutality). Instead, there’s discrimination against magic-users to deal with, due to the fallout from Witcher 2 and the Lodge of Sorceresses. Honestly, I had to side-eye this change a little, because people don’t just put aside their racism when a new political conflict arises. While I understand the plot can’t encompass everything, this is just another example of the disjointedness between the first two games and this one.

You still have the opportunity to sleep with various women in this game, which was irritating. Most of these chances come up in “meatier” side quests, so they’re woven into the plot rather than random chance encounters. I honestly hate that aspect of the Witcher games, and even though they’re toned down from the first installment, they still are prevalent enough to bother me.

I did play through both DLCs/Expansion Packs: Hearts of Stone and Blood and Wine. I really liked the way Hearts of Stone was structured, with the Frog Prince allusions and heist plot. I did also like that it included some much needed POC, but I was uncomfortable with part of the plot that involves killing a bunch of them. I absolutely hated the part where you have to let a ghost (Vlodomir) possess Geralt’s body for a night. The idea wasn’t a bad one (the ethics of letting a ghost control you is interesting), but Vlodimir is so damn horny and sexist that I despised being forced to spend time with him/act as him for so long. This DLC also had Shani make a reappearance, and I love her as a character. I just hate that she, like so many other women, is head over heels for Geralt, and Geralt can sleep with her. Blood and Wine had the experience of a whole new game, with more maps to explore, diagrams to find, and so on. I enjoyed the characters of this story more than the plot itself; much of the plot involves things happening off-camera and being told of them later. But to its credit, the DLC expands the lore on some monsters that we don’t see much of in the previous games, and has some fun side quests that are much lighter in mood than anything in the base game.

Characters: Geralt is more or less the same as he was in The Witcher 2, but I found him even more easier to like and play as a noble character. Of course, his characterization is going to be largely up to the player (it’s an RPG, after all), but I liked that the game gave Geralt ample opportunity to be a kind-hearted person.

We do finally meet Yennefer in this game. She’s stubborn and assertive without being too over the top or controlling, which made me like her, even if she could be annoying. I chose to romance Triss, so I got an extra dose of that annoyingness when Yennefer wouldn’t respect my boundaries and took some of her anger out on Triss’ belongings. However, I do like that these traits made Yennefer flawed.

Speaking of Triss, she’s back in this game and has an extremely noble character arc. She spends a lot of time fighting to get mages out of a city that wants to destroy them, and willingly puts herself at risk for people who probably don’t deserve it. She’s so kind-hearted and focused on justice that I took to her as readily as I did in the previous game - perhaps more.

Ciri, unsurprisingly, was also a delight. She is headstrong and impulsive without being cold, and players are given the chance to mold her story when she becomes a playable character for brief periods.

Many of the side characters felt fully-realized, so I had no trouble immersing myself in the world of the game. I very much enjoyed the characters in the DLC (save Vlodimir), who were morally grey and complex in interesting ways. Regis is the best!

Gameplay: Like Witcher 2, there are a lot of controls to keep track of (at least on PC) but I picked them up fairly quickly. Crafting is a bit more involved than the previous games, as well as the alchemy. It took me a bit to realize that alchemy flasks were replenished with meditation rather than having to be made manually, but when I figured it out, things ran more smoothly.

I will say that with this game being open-world, there was A LOT of exploration. I do like to wander around in games sometimes, but after a while, I did grow bored. Maps were expansive with hundreds of points of interest, all with rewards that weren’t super beneficial (except to sell) after a certain level. I know I don’t HAVE to explore every POI, but I’m a completionist. Completionists, therefore, might find this game a bit tedious.

I furthermore resented the fact that players could have Geralt sleep around with multiple women and get many sex scenes. It was annoying, but I easily avoided romancing anyone accidentally.

The introduction of the Gwent card game in place of dice was extremely enjoyable. It relied a little less on luck, allowing players to exert some control via strategy, and rewards included unique cards in addition to money. It’s almost like a deck-building game, with some different rules.

Visuals: The Witcher 3 is a beautifully-rendered game. The environment is full of textures and unique layouts, even though much of it is wilderness, and everything from the monsters to the armor appear more visually interesting and colorful than their incarnations in previous games. I especially appreciated the effort put into making the world seem inhabited; inns were decorated with paintings and garlands, homes had personal effects, and peasants didn’t seem to be too repetitive in their appearance.

Although the sexism in this game was scaled way back even in comparison to the previous game, I did still find some of the character designs for women annoying. Kiera, a sorceress who assists Geralt at one point, is introduced while she is taking a bath, and while dressed, her shirt is so open that you can see her nipples - even when you’re questing! It was irritating, but since women’s outfits on the whole were drastically less male-gazey than the previous games, I was able to ignore it and focus on plot.

I will say, though, that I was bothered by the fact that everyone in this game is still white (except for a couple succubi, unless I’m missing some others). There are some POC introduced in the Hearts of Stone DLC, and some of them are interesting characters, but part of the plot involves killing a bunch of POC, so it was kind of uncomfortable. I know the game is based on a Polish novel series, and people will be quick to say that Slavic people are largely light-skinned, but this is a fantasy game, so in my mind, there’s no excuse.

In-Game Triggers: violence, gore, body horror, presence of corpses/blood in the environment, sex and nudity, racism, drug use, miscarriage, domestic violence

Recommendations: I would recommend this game f you’ve played the previous two Witcher games, or if you enjoy fantasy RPGs, games with Slavic folklore, and games with strong father-daughter relationships.

#video game review

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chibi-jing · 5 years

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About Ardyn & Ravus Similarities

You might have never noticed before but the Chancellor and the High Commander share some common points…much to their regret, I bet.

Let’s check this together! (because why not?)

Infiltrating the Empire

That’s a secret for no one, Ardyn and Ravus don’t care about the Niflheim as a country. They are using the Empire only to get what they want, basically to take their revenge on Lucis: Ravus still blames Regis for what happened to his mother years ago and once the King dead, Ravus remained in the Niflheim’s ranks for his sister’s sake ; for his part Ardyn wants to take down his brother’s bloodline and everything Somnus has built, but also uses his position as the Chancellor to keep an eye on Noctis during his journey. Ardyn and Ravus operate in the shadows to get their revenge and look after the ones they have to protect, using the Niflheim’s ressources to achieve their goals.

Elder brothers

Both Ardyn and Ravus have one younger sibling who rules instead of them. For Ravus, it’s because Oracles have to be women so although he’s the oldest, he has to leave this prerogative to Luna. For Ardyn, it’s because the Crystal rejected him that Somnus was chosen instead of him, his corruption preventing him to rule over Lucis. Besides, Ardyn and Ravus believed – wrongly – that they could be the chosen one instead of Noctis: Ardyn was praised as a savior in the past only to figure out that he didn’t fit the role, and Ravus tried to fight the darkness in the place of Noctis that he found unworthy of his task, but failed too. The two thought they legitimately deserved to be in charge but have had to face deception when mystical powers denied their strength to them.

Rejection and darkness

Ardyn and Ravus have been both rejected by mystical artifacts in their lives: as we know, the Crystal denied his ascension to Ardyn because his body was tainted by darkness, and Ravus suffered the Kings of Yore’s wrath when he put the Ring of Lucii whereas he wasn’t worthy of its power. In both cases they were contaminated by the parasite that turned them into daemons: Ardyn was indeed infected while absorbing darkness 2000 years ago by healing his people, and through it became an immortal and doomed entity. Ravus was presumably first put in contact with the parasite when he obtained his magitek arm after his failure with the Ring, then he was turned into an undead daemon by Ardyn and forced to fight Noctis. Their end is the same: tainted by darkness and no longer humans, Ravus and Ardyn are defeated by the very rightful King of Light they tried to be.

Solitude

Ardyn and Ravus are lonely souls only motivated by their own agendas with nothing or no one to support them since they operate under everybody’s radar. Due to his rejection by the Crystal Ardyn has been banished and lost everything he had, from his royalty to his family. Unable to die, he also lost his humanity as everyone reduced him to a monster, condemning him to an empty existence where he bonds with no one and manipulates everyone. Ravus also lost his royal privileges when the Empire attacked his homeland, forcing him to surrender and follow Niflheim’s guideline. His life didn’t belong to him anymore, he could only rely on himself and he ended up losing everything when Luna died. All the efforts Ravus put trying to protect her have been vains, just like those of Ardyn who dedicated his past life to protect his people only to be cursed by darkness.

Feelings

As we saw above Ardyn and Ravus share the same antipathy for Lucis, but they even more specifically despise its prince, Noctis. They both have tried to kill the young man, judging him incompetent to achieve his task as the Chosen King and nourishing personal grievances against him (his sister’s sake for Ravus and his brother’s inheritance for Ardyn)…but paradoxically they’re also counting on Noct’s success: as we can see in Chapter 13 verse 2, Ravus ultimately joins Luna’s opinion and accepts Noctis as the chosen one despite the cost she paid for him, aware that no one else can replace him. On his side Ardyn also hopes Noctis could succeed, allowing him to obtain either his redemption or his inner peace once the King of Light finally fulfilled the prophecy or perished by his hand. That’s the reason why even if Ardyn hates Somnus’ lineage and Noctis for being the Chosen King he was supposed to be, he ends up helping him during his quest.

Furthermore if there is something else Ardyn and Ravus could agree on, it’s that they absolutely detest each other. Ravus is naturally suspicious about Ardyn because of him being the Chancellor of Niflheim, but you can also figure out that he doesn’t appreciate him as a human being. For his part, Ardyn deeply hates Ravus because of his anger against the Nox Fleurets, and personally despises him because Ravus try to act as the hero and is always in his way, interfering with his plan, pretending he could do better than Noctis and therefore than Ardyn.

Physical appearance

Ok, this part is far less relevant and more for fun but you can also notice that Ardyn and Ravus are tall and wear long coats with improbable designs. They have similar hair styling with some locks of hair combed on the top of their heads and layered haircut. If you aren’t convinced, just look at my Ardyn in Comrades: Ravus’ hair is the best to mimic Ardyn’s hair, despite being straight and not waved...

The illusion is perfect, don’t you think? No? K never mind XD

If Ardyn and Ravus have so much in common, there are also some things radically dividing them. For example when I mentioned their coats earlier, I didn’t specified the colors: Ravus is all in white where Ardyn is mainly in dark tones. They also have opposite behaviours: Ravus is always very serious and tries to remain neutral most of the time although he can has some tantrums, while Ardyn is always smiling, provocative and seems to take nothing seriously, never losing his temper until the final confrontation with Noctis.

It’s funny that these two characters are most of the time seen together, obliged to collaborate while truly hating each other. They’re supposed to have nothing in common so it’s a little bit ironic to realize how analogous their lives are, and it’s also maybe part of the reason why they hate each other so much: the eventual sympathy they might develop because of their similarities increases the repulsion they feel for the other.

It’s too bad we couldn’t have more of Ravus in FFXV and even if verse 2 and Episode Ignis filled some holes, I still hope to see more of him at least in Episode Luna! And especially if he has to interact with Ardyn ^^

#ardyn #ravus #ffxv #ff15 #analysis #ardyn izunia #ravus nox fleuret #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #noctis #lunafreya #niflheim #lucis #lore #thoughts #theory

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

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Fic: Nocturne (26/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes’ ‘taur AU)

—————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————

Sylvia staggers out of the cave, shading her eyes against the light of the winter sun - her fur covered in pieces of rock and dust, her hooves slipping a little on the slick volcanic rock underneath.

She looks up.

Niflheim airships fill the sky, their banners unfurled and flapping in the breeze.

It's a more familiar sight than Sylvia would like to admit. She's pretended for years that Tenebrae was an equal power to Niflheim, or at least that Niflheim was nothing more a distant overlord when her powers of self-delusion failed her: Tenebrae was hers, to rule and to care for, and she thought that she could preserve their quality of life that way. To be sure, Niflheim came often, and she received them with grace and dignity, as a monarch to an emperor.

It was a lie, of course.

Niflheim showed her that lie when they pulled the leash tight at last, spurred on by Chancellor Izunia's quest to destroy the line of Lucis and the Oracle.

They came into her country and attacked her in her own home, and all the stories she'd spun to herself – that they wouldn't dare pay her such an affront lest the people rise up in defense of their Oracle – dissolved into the mist they always were, ground down under the heels of Niflheim's MT soldiers, who cared nothing for whether anyone would rise up and would never permit it to happen anyway, no matter how high the cost.

And so Sylvia sees the Niflheim ships in the air, and she remembers the day they came to Tenebrae with their armies of mechanical monsters, wielding sword and gun and flame, and she stares at them blankly, unmoving, even as the bellies of the ships open up and their payload of bombs begins to fall.

"Watch out!" someone calls, and then Sylvia is falling very ignominiously onto her side as someone barrels into her, knocking her over a ridge just as a bomb hits the place where she was just standing.

She coughs and wipes the dust upended by the explosion out of her eyes, and sees –

"Counsel Scientia?! What are you doing here?!"

"I'm an ibex," Scientia says briskly. "When we saw the bombing start, we came up here, quick as we could, and I can climb mountains faster than all the rest. Good thing, too, what with you standing around gawking like an idiot."

Sylvia opens her mouth to say something cutting in return – she is absolutely intolerable, this Scientia – and then abruptly realizes the terrible truth. "You just saved my life."

"Think nothing of it," Scientia says, blinking a little owlishly from behind her glasses – she clearly hadn't thought about it either, and seems equally horrified by the idea of a life debt between them. "I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity to repay the favor soon enough, as I am entirely without any martial abilities whatsoever."

"You – you can't fight? At all?"

"I'm a lawyer," Scientia says, sounding aggravated. "Jokes about my ability to eviscerate someone using only my sharp tongue aside, the closest I've ever gotten to murder is when I consider bludgeoning co-counsel with their own overstuffed binders."

"Then why are you even here?!" Sylvia demands.

Scientia looks at her like she's stupid – a not uncommon look on her face, and likely the reason that Sylvia developed such an immediate antipathy upon meeting her in person – and says, "Because of Luna, of course. You hardly think I'd let a few magitek soldiers stand in my way if she was in danger, would you?"

Sylvia recalls the massed army at the base of the mountain, but then her own instincts hit her with the force of one of Niflheim's bombs and she starts struggling back up to her hooves. "Lunafreya – Ravus – they were in the cave – it was collapsing – did they make it out?"

"No," Scientia says, looking around. "I don't see them. Did you see if they were merely stuck, or if there was some more space in there for them go?"

"What sort of question is that?"

"A useful one. Stop panicking and think."

Sylvia forces herself to remember those last few moments inside, hazy and confused – leaping to the side to only just avoid a falling rock, Ravus charging forward at full speed, Luna falling backwards, her eyes going wide as her hooves slipped and she began to slide –

"There was a tunnel, further in," she says, opening her eyes – she hadn't realized she'd shut them. "They all fell down the tunnel: Lunafreya, and Ravus, and Prince Noctis."

"Good."

"Good?!"

"They're probably alive then, aren't they?" Scientia points out. She's as calm as ever, the cold fish. Nothing ever moves her. It drives Sylvia up the wall. "Better than the alternative."

"You realize they're alone in there," Sylvia points out. "Facing who-knows-what."

"I'm well aware of that," Scientia snaps. Honestly snaps, which is something of a surprise; Sylvia is accustomed to the other woman being utterly unflappable. "But Luna is fifteen and well-trained, and Prince Ravus is now seventeen and presumably equally well-trained. They are quite capable of escaping this alive. We will simply have to hope for the best, because there's nothing else to do about it."

Sylvia studies her for a moment, taken aback by Scientia’s highly uncharacteristic vehemence. "You really do care quite deeply about Lunafreya."

It's not that she didn't know it, really, but it hadn't ever really seemed that important in comparison to her own need to get her suddenly too-adult, suddenly distant baby back.

"Of course I do," Scientia says stiffly. "Neither of us are particularly effusive individuals, you and I, but it would be a mistake to think that my reticence is due to a lack of emotion rather than a desire not to interfere with your reunion, however many mistakes you seem determined to make."

"Mistakes!" Sylvia exclaims, her sympathy evaporating. "What mistakes –"

"Ladies!" Cor shouts. "Maybe now is not the time!"

They turn downhill in his direction, both of them scowling and ready to shout at him for his interference, and then they see the MT armies from the bottom of the hill charging up at them.

"Oh dear," Scientia says. "Sylvia, that opportunity to return the favor appears to have arrived."

Sylvia summons her Trident into her hands, secretly relieved that it comes as swiftly as always despite her gift of it to Prince Noctis.

"That may indeed be the case," she says, stepping in front of Scientia. She might not like the 'taur, but she will certainly protect her.

Besides, even putting aside her duty as the Oracle to defend the lives of innocent ‘taurs, there is always the fact that Scientia, having known Lunafreya these past five years, might actually have some insight into her daughter – or, for instance, into the background of that lovely jackrabbit that showed up at the last minute and insisted on joining the back-up army on the grounds that her girlfriend was going ahead with the royal party.

Given Luna's earlier mention and the extremely low chance that Aulea has abruptly developed a taste for barely-turned-eighteen-year-olds, Sylvia suspects she knows who the relevant girlfriend in question is.

"Say,” she says, “earlier, when you were listing off characteristics to ensure the survival of the children, you mentioned that both Luna and Ravus are well-trained. Wouldn't it be more correct to also mention Noctis?"

"Noctis is trained," Scientia says. "The addition of the phrase 'well' may be less than entirely appropriate, given his overwhelming inclination towards sloth."

"Sadly, as much as I adore him, I'm forced to agree," Aulea interjects, coming up from behind them. She's holding a gun very confidently. "Come this way, Regis and I found a ridge that will give us the high ground without losing visibility. If we can get a break through the fighting, we'll signal the Niflheim ships and try to see if we can get a ceasefire – it appears that the MTs have started attacking both sides."

Sylvia glances up. It takes her a second to see clearly, but she confirms that there is fighting aboard the Niflheim ships, the largely 'taur pilots and crew fighting with the on-board MT troops that appear to have turned on them.

Given the stories Sylvia has heard – and Regis has confirmed – regarding how MTs are formed, it suddenly makes sense why the Accursed teamed up with Niflheim. It wasn't just to spread the Starscourge, but to do so in the most efficient way possible. And now it appears that Niflheim, falling for his promises of power, quite literally built him an army.

They probably should have thought of that before betraying him, Sylvia thinks spitefully, before reminding herself that the interests of her people – and peace – come first, and therefore that she should pray that the ceasefire is successful rather than for the ruin of the yet-loyal soldiers of Niflheim.

It just might take a while before she really believes that. The memory of her violated house remains very near to her hearts.

"Aren't you concerned, then?" Sylvia asks Aulea, gesturing for Scientia to go first and covering her tail as she hops easily up the mountain. "About Noctis, I mean? If he's not well-trained?"

"Well," Aulea says wryly. "I mostly comfort myself by reminding myself that Noctis can summon Astrals now. That helps a remarkable amount."

"What do you mean, your summoning powers don't work?" Ravus demands, glaring at Noctis as if that's going to change the answer.

Luna glares at him. “Ravus, this isn’t helping,” she says shortly. “And if it matters, I can’t seem to use my abilities, either.”

Ravus immediately goes concerned. “You can’t? Are you well, does it –”

“I’m fine,” she hisses. “Noctis, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay, other than my magic being cut off,” Noctis says, very carefully not interjecting himself into the argument. He’s staring firmly at a blank wall, actually. They must be making a terrible scene. “I can’t even summon a basic sword right now.”

“Maybe it has something to do with this place,” Luna suggests. “Or some trap that Ardyn set up.”

The fact that the place where they have fallen is clearly not the further extension of a cavern suggests the latter, in fact. Luna's not sure how Ardyn intended to get them to fall backwards through a wall into that particular hole in the ground, but slick volcanic rock had quickly given way to the even slicker slide of sheer metals and plastics, and they'd slid all the way down some sort of ventilation shaft until they'd reached the bottom where – luckily – the gigantic fan with its shear-like arms wasn't working.

Couldn't be working, in fact: it was rusted solid, half-eaten away, and covered in dust.

But it'd been easy enough to duck through the fan and then for Ravus to kick his way through the opening on the other side, and they were able to exit the shaft through the narrow doorway shaped like a thin vertical rectangle rather than the more traditional square. It's a good thing none of them have particularly sizeable hindquarters or they would’ve had trouble fitting through.

Beyond the doorway was what was immediately recognizable, at least to Luna, as some sort of laboratory, even if there wasn't any equipment in the hallway they were standing in - linoleum tiles, blank-washed walls, dull yet perfectly even lighting suggesting the use of a local generator, a certain sense of sterility that makes her expect to see people in white coats or possible hazmat suits wandering around.

The only thing that's strange about it is how much dust there is. Dust, and cracks, and even intrepid but very strange-looking plants making their way through the walls, somehow, even this far down into a volcano.

This place, Luna concludes, is very old – and long abandoned.

"Even if it is a trap, we should go and find Ifrit," Noctis says.

"And what makes you think he'll be here?" Ravus asks scornfully. "Given that the boar-god is dead and –"

"A lab makes sense," Noctis interrupts. His back is unusually straight and he looks Ravus in the eyes. There’s something reminiscent of his father in the way he looks now, older than his ten years, and the way that Ravus falls silent in the face of that gaze. "Given that the remaining copy of Ifrit’s memory is supposed to be located in deep storage. This is as deep as it gets without going into the ocean. We need to find the computer banks."

"Because you think the Astrals are actually computer programs," Ravus says, rallying once more. It's clear from his tone that he thinks that Noctis' shocking discovery – which caused even most adults Luna knew to decide to put the implications aside and not think too hard about them – is not even worthy of consideration. "Right. The literal gods that we worship. Of course; how could I forget?"

Ravus clearly never believes anyone about anything, so perhaps it's reasonable that he also doubts Noctis about this.

Reasonable, but still infuriating.

Is it just Ravus, or are all seventeen-year-old boys this obnoxious?

"Ravus," Luna says tightly. "Noctis discovered that fact from – no, you know what? Never mind. You won’t believe me anyway, so why don’t you just shut up? Noctis and I will go exploring. You can stay here if you like."

"I'm not staying back here while you go into danger," Ravus snaps.

"Suit yourself," Luna says icily. "Come along, Noctis. Where to first?"

"Oh, boy, this is going to be so much fun," Noctis mumbles, his back returning to its habitual slouch as the aura of force he had for a few seconds there fades away. He doesn't appear to be very sincere, which isn't entirely in keeping with his usual approach to adventure - though Luna supposes it makes sense, given how much he dislikes intra-family fighting. "Okay, let's try going to the left first."

They check through the window of each door they pass by, but it's almost all the same – desks mostly rotted away, lab equipment of some arcane variety, mostly dials and measuring equipment insofar as Luna recognizes it, and where there are computers, they are clearly inoperable.

"Everything here is ancient," Noctis marvels. "It's like one of those horror video games, where at any turn something might jump out and –"

"Noctis," Luna says. "Not helpful."

Even if she'd been maybe-kinda-sorta thinking the same thing.

Iggy likes horror games, he feels that they have more 'depth' than other video games, and the game play is rather mesmerizing...especially when Luna's doing homework in the same room...

"The maps on the walls indicate that we're heading deeper into the facility," Ravus says. "Rather than doing the intelligent thing and heading out."

"Given how everything is rusting away to dust, you're being awfully presumptuous in assuming there even is a way out," Luna says archly. "Maybe if we go to those doors, the only thing we'll find will be the skeletons of the people who tried desperately and unsuccessfully to escape before the end."

"Lunafreya," Ravus says. "That is not helpful."

Noctis shoots her a thumbs up from behind Ravus' back.

Luna hides a smirk and takes a step over to the next window, intending on a brief scan before moving on – they stopped bothering with any in-depth sort of review fairly early on – and then she sees it and freezes.

The other two continue walking for another taurlength, then realize they're leaving her behind.

"Luna?" Ravus asks. "Did you find something?"

"Are they skeletons?" Noctis asks interestedly.

"No," Luna says. "Worse."

She pushes open the door and walks inside to better inspect the item that caught her interest.

"Is that what caught your attention?" Ravus says, standing by the door to hold it open as Noctis peers in over his back. "Really, Lunafreya? It's an item of furniture."

"Yes," Luna says solemnly, inspecting it with no little sense of wonder. "It is."

"What is it, though?" Noctis asks. "It's like a chair, just way too small. You can barely fit your hindquarters into it – you can't, actually. If you put your hindquarters in it, your forelegs would need to be standing up; if you put your forepaws in it, your hindquarters would be on the floor...some sort of medical assistive device, maybe? Like when people break their hindleg and need to wheel around?"

"No, Noctis," Luna says. "Your first guess was right: this is a chair."

"Why, exactly, are we devoting time to an inadequately made chair?" Ravus asks.

"It's perfectly adequate," Luna says. "If the person sitting in it doesn't have hindquarters."

"Doesn't have – what are you talking about –"

"Oh!" Noctis exclaims, interrupting Ravus. His eyes are wide. "Luna, you can't mean – a chair for humans?"

"It would explain how old everything is," Luna points out. "A human laboratory, from the days of Solheim, left abandoned after the Great Astral War –"

"They would have abandoned it when Ifrit was laid to rest here," Ravus says. His face is a little pale. "That explains why all the doors are so narrow - a human is about the same length as they are width around, so there's no consideration of someone trying to go through the door sideways or having large hind-quarters. Luna – the historical relevance of such a discovery – not to mention what diseases might be here, locked away in these walls like a tomb –"

"I'm a healer, remember?"

"One who can’t use her powers right now," Ravus points out. "And even if you could, you can't heal everything, or else –"

He cuts himself off, but Luna knows what he was going to say.

Or else you would have healed me by now.

"I am trying my hardest, you know," she says resentfully. "It's not that easy –"

"I know you are," he says, holding up a hand. "Nothing else ever crossed my mind, not for a second."

Luna considers his face, which seems sincere, and decides that she'll be appeased, just this once. After all, he's her brother and he's scared, she knows that. "Well, anyway," she says, shaking her head and heading back to the door. "I don't think there's anything more to – oh, Ramuh! There's a map in here!"

"So?" Noctis says, blinking at her. "There's been a map every half-hallway."

"This one's labelled – no, don't come in! Someone needs to hold the door in case it locks automatically."

Ravus has already come inside, but Noctis catches the door. "I've got it," he says. "Is there a computer bank?"

"It's not labelled," Ravus says with a frown.

"Yes, it is," Luna says. "See those raised bumps? That's the language for the blind."

"Wouldn't it have changed over the years?"

"Probably," Luna says, crestfallen. "But it's worth a try."

She runs her fingers over the words. They're not quite in any language she recognizes – though if she thinks of them as letters, instead of words, and thinks of her lessons in pre-Solheim dialects (thank you, Mr. Tenebrius, for all those boring ancient pottery lectures! Something Luna never thought she'd ever say!) – and then she has it.

"This one!" she points. "It says 'back'-something – or, uh, possibly hide-something, maybe tail, it's not always that easy to tell – anyway, I think it means that it's the computer room because the next word is 'server' – or maybe waiter – but assuming it's 'server' as in 'computer server', then that's what we're looking for."

"It's several floors down," Ravus says with a frown. "Isn't that a bad idea in a horror movie, going down?"

Luna hides a grin. Now even Ravus is doing it.

“At least we’re not splitting up,” Noctis points out.

Ravus makes a face.

Thus agreed, they march down the corridor to the stairwell – they don’t even bother checking the dusty elevator banks, which everyone unanimously agrees is an obvious death trap – and head down to the sublevels.

“Is it just me, or are we getting warmer?” Noctis asks. "Like - literally warmer, not metaphorically."

“It’s not just you,” Luna agrees, wiping some sweat off her brow. “Maybe that’s a good sign?”

“Or simply a sign that we’re heading down a volcano,” Ravus says gloomily.

He’s not necessarily wrong.

The computer room, when they find it, is absolutely massive – and, unlike the majority of lab, unmistakably alive.

“Okay,” Noctis says after a moment of staring at the rows and rows and rows of gigantic black-metal machines, each glowing with dozens of pinpricks of red light, the whole room humming with power, “now I’m officially creeped.”

“At least we found…something?” Luna offers. She’s creeped, too.

“Well, we should go inside – ouch!”

“Noctis!”

“I’m okay,” Noctis says, sticking his fingers into his mouth. “The doorway just gave me an electric shock when I tried to go through it.”

Luna turns her attention to the doorway, frowning. She reaches out and tries to put her hand through the door, feeling a little foolish as she does, and feeling decidedly less foolish when her hand hits some sort of invisible barrier that promptly gives her a sharp shock when she tries to go further in. “Ouch!”

“Maybe we should consult the warning signs,” Ravus says dryly; he’s come up from behind Luna without her noticing and is standing right next to her. He nods at the wall, which has a sign with a number of unrecognizable designs on it.

And at least one very recognizable design that apparently no one bothered to change in all the centuries since Solheim: a small circle with three fans going out to form an invisible outer circle.

“Radiation warning,” Luna says, shivering. “That’s why there’s a shield, I guess?”

“It feels almost like magic,” Noctis offers, frowning at the deceptively open door. “The wall, I mean. It feels like – well, it feels like when the Kingsglaive make their walls. A bit. Or like the Wall. Except a lot more hostile, somehow?”

“We should get out of here,” Ravus says. He seems upset, all of a sudden. “Let’s go.”

“I mean, I guess –”

There’s a sound from down the hallway.

They all look at each other.

“Follow the sound?” Noctis suggests, looking doubtful.

“I don’t see what our alternative is,” Luna says. “Except maybe running away in terror, which sounds more and more appealing every second.”

“Let’s go see what it is,” Ravus says, and marches off.

Luna has no idea what’s gotten into him that's suddenly made him so ready for action, but she hurries up into a trot and catches up to him, with Noctis loping along at her side.

The hallway is long and lit by the same dull generator-powered light as the rest of the facility, but even so Luna can tell that the door at the very end of the hallway contains a much brighter red light – so bright, in fact, that they can see the glow all around the windowless door.

It also gets noticeably hotter as they move closer to that room.

“Do you think this might be where Ifrit is?” Noctis asks. “He is the god of fire. Was the god of fire? What tense do you use for a dead god?”

“Is,” Luna says. “Shiva uses ‘is’, even though her original incarnated body is still lying dead in Ghorovas Rift.”

“Are you still in contact with Gentiana?” Ravus asks, side-eying her a little.

Luna flushes. “Only sometimes,” she says primly. “And we don’t talk about her being Shiva.”

Gentiana’s rule, but one that Luna’s more than happy to follow. Every once in a while she remembers that she’s gossiping about her relationship developments (the Crowe v. Cindy debate! Crowe eventually finding a new girlfriend back on Galahd, thereby solving that problem! Cindy inviting Luna for a midnight ride and Luna stressing out for hours if it was a date or not! The sheer excitement of finding out that yes, in fact, it was a date! Finally ‘tauring up and asking Cindy to be her girlfriend! Agreeing that they're going to stick to kissing for now until Luna feels more ready!) with an actual goddess and she gets weirded out by it all, but she refuses to give it up. Gentiana is too good a confidant, and anyway, Gentiana seems to enjoy it just as much.

Still weird to think about, which is why Luna firmly doesn’t whenever possible.

“Should we go inside?” Noctis asks, gnawing at his lower lip and staring at the door with the red light and the heat.

“I don’t think we have a choice at this point,” Luna says, but she doesn’t move. None of them do; they just stand there and stare at the door.

After a few seconds, Noctis audibly gulps and takes a step forward, reaching for the door.

“Wait!” Ravus exclaims. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out one of his gloves. “Use this – the door handle might be hot.”

“Thanks. Good idea.” Noctis takes one glove and uses it to gingerly wrap around the door handle, then he pulls it open.

There’s an unexpected pull, as if of wind, and they all stumble straight into the room, even Noctis, and the door swings ominously shut behind them. It’s a vast room, filled with computer stations and laboratory equipment, and at the end of the room there is a giant set of thick metal doors with the radiation symbol painted on them.

And sitting before them all, there he is: Ifrit, the Infernian, in all of his towering glory.

The boar-god isn’t as large as some of the other Astrals have been when they manifested, but he still towers over the three of them, a dozen feet tall and nearly as long, a massive presence that dominates the room even as he reclines in an equally massive throne surrounded by flame.

“Oh,” Luna says, trying not to gulp. She’s faced Astrals before, but they don’t normally have an expression of such blank indifference on their face. Still, she’s the Oracle, and speaking to the Astrals is her duty. She steps forward. “Infernian,” she calls. “We have come, Oracle and Chosen King –” To be, she mentally adds. “– and we seek an audience with you.”

“You entered my domain,” he says, and his face suddenly twitches to the side, twisting into a terrible snarl of rage before returning to its uninterested expression. “You are invaders – you are here to steal -”

Steal?

“We’re not here to steal anything,” Luna says quickly. “We’re –”

“You cannot have them,” Ifrit says, his booming voice easily overriding hers. “No one may have them. The forbidden weapons were locked away and banned, and no living being may access them.”

“Weapons?” Ravus asks. "What weapons?"

“No one may have them,” Ifrit says again. He’s not speaking to them, Luna realizes; he’s reciting some long-ago speech, set like a hound to watch for intruders without discrimination – reduced, perhaps, to the unthinking computer program he was once long ago. What a terrible fate for a living creature, no matter how mechanical their origin. “You have come to steal them, and for this you will die.”

“No,” Luna says. “You don’t understand, we’re here to seek the Covenant –”

Ravus tackles her to the floor just in time for the burst of flame to explode over her head.

“Noctis!” she shouts, but Noctis has also taken cover behind one of the computer stations in the room.

“I’m okay!” he shouts back. “Luna – these forbidden weapons he's talking about – do you think he means the nukes? The ones that nearly destroyed the world? They’re here?”

“That would explain the radiation symbol,” Luna says, scooting herself back behind one of the other computer stations, Ravus scrambling to join her. That’s absolutely horrifying – she’d always thought they were gone, somehow – and she really hopes Noctis is wrong, but she thinks he’s probably right.

She peers around the side of the station. Ifrit is still sitting there, but his face keeps changing: initially calm and indifferent, then metamorphosing into terrible rage for a split second, then returning to the original state.

Rage…

That reminds her. Titan, too, had been struggling with rage – here, though, there is no struggle. Ifrit is consumed by rage, but cannot control himself, the rage breaking free at random intervals even without any impetus.

“He’s been corrupted with the Starscourge,” Luna calls, even as Noctis scrambles from one computer station to another as Ifrit throws flame at the one he had been at before. “Much worse than Titan was. He won’t listen to us – I don’t think he even can anymore.”

“We still have to get that Covenant,” Noctis calls back. His face is white. “The MTs outside...”

An army. And Lucis had brought its own army, too, and with Luna and Ravus and Noctis missing, their parents would almost certainly order an attack.

There would be battle, and with battle – death. So much death.

And all for nothing, if they do not succeed here.

“We have to get it,” she agrees, and stands up.

“What are you doing?” Ravus demands.

“What I need to,” she says, and grabs one of the weird human chairs and throws it right at Ifrit.

After all, there are many different ways of defeating an Astral to obtain the mark of their Covenant – and one of those ways is the obvious.

“Oh for the love of – here, use this at the very least,” Ravus says, pushing a long knife into her hand. He has another in his own; he must have smuggled them in his jacket. “I’ll keep an eye on Noctis; he’s hopeless.”

Noctis has started throwing whatever he can get his hands on – usually broken computer parts – at Ifrit, and missing half the time.

“You’re – letting me do this on my own?” Luna asks, a little stupidly.

“I should’ve listened to you,” Ravus tells her. “About – everything. I should’ve given you that respect. And part of that respect is knowing that if my baby sister can wipe the floor with me in the middle of a temper tantrum, Ifrit won’t know what hit him.”

Amazing, really, how Ravus can be simultaneously so incredibly awesome but also annoying at the same time.

Must be a brother thing.

“Go save Noctis from his own laziness,” Luna says, beaming at Ravus. “I’m on Ifrit.”

She rounds the other side of the computer station – Ifrit is snarling at Noctis, who finally managed to score a direct hit, pegging the Astral in the head with a spare microscope – and charges into Ifrit’s blind spot, slashing with the knife and then leaping away just in time, his burst of flame very nearly singeing her small tuft of a tail.

Ravus goes in from the other side as Ifrit turns to her, slashing down low and aiming for his forelegs, and Ifrit’s seated position interferes with his attempt to dodge. Ravus falls back at once. “Now, Noctis!”

Noctis jumps up from behind the computer station and heaves something large and metallic over his head.

It hits Ifrit dead in the chest, causing the Astral to rear backwards, shake his head, and then – worryingly – rise up from his throne.

“This is going to go badly very quickly,” Luna shouts. “We can’t get his Covenant until he’s defeated – we can’t talk to him as long as he’s corrupted by the Starscourge, and my healing abilities aren’t working!”

“We need to get to his memory!” Noctis shouts back.

“What does that mean?” Ravus asks, grabbing Noctis and pulling him out of the (quite literal) line of fire.

“The computer banks! They’re the only other thing in this whole complex that’s still active, and he’s an AI, remember? If we purge his memory and restart, we might be able to talk to a non-corrupted version of him!”

“But we can’t enter the computer banks!” Luna points out, then notices that Ravus has gone still. “Ravus, duck!”

He dodges, just barely missing the missile of flame Ifrit sends out with a wave of his hand.

“You can’t lose attention like that,” Luna scolds, ducking behind a computer station. "We're in the middle of a fight, you know, it's dangerous to -"

“I can do it,” Ravus says.

“No, you can’t, that’s what I’m saying –”

“No, the computer banks,” he says, crouching down behind the same station as her, with Noctis at his side. “I can enter them.”

“What?” Noctis and Luna chorus together.

“I tried it, earlier,” Ravus says. “I could put my hand through, where neither of you could, but when I did, my veins turned…black.”

Noctis looks confused, but Luna gets it immediately. “The Starscourge.”

“I’m infected,” Ravus confirms. “That room – I think it’s infected, too, somehow. That’s why it would let me in, but not you: you’re too pure.” He swallows. "I can go and restart the system."

"But if your hand turned black, then whatever's in that room is aggravating the Starscourge already in your system," Luna protests. "And without my abilities to heal you – and who knows where Mom is –"

"I know," Ravus says. "It's okay. I'll do it anyway." He smiles shakily. "We're at war, right? For the future?"

Luna hugs him. "You come back right away," she says fiercely in his ear. "Right away, and we'll find our way out of this place, and we'll heal you. You got that? Don't you dare die on me."

He just hugs her back. "Keep an eye on Noctis, will you?"

"I can –" Noctis starts, but then Ravus hands him the knife and it looks like it hits Noctis all at once, the fact that they might die here. "Oh."

"Good luck," Ravus says, and then he's gone.

"Noctis, we've got to keep Ifrit distracted so he doesn't notice what Ravus is doing," Luna says. She can't think about the fact that her brother - her brother, who she's finally made up with, who she adores and forgives and wants back at her side already - is going off into such terrible danger. She can't, or else she's going to get fried - and she'd really rather not be fried 'taur. "That's our job, you and me. Okay?"

Noctis nods. "Got it."

"Let's go!"

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #lunafreya nox fleuret #ravus nox fleuret #noctis lucis caelum #sylva nox fleuret #apollonia scientia #cor leonis #aulea lucis caelum #my fic #nocturne

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kanrakixystix · 7 years

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Corgis - He didn't know when exactly he started seeing flashes of Regis after the fall of Insomnia, but he did know that seeing him hurt. A lot.

Welp this got long. I’m equally excited and sad that this is my first and only Corgis. Hopefully when I open up requests again I’ll get more, because I have such a soft spot for these two.

Not sure who to tag on this, but I’m gonna try my hand with these peeps: @jean-the-bean, @domesticfluffsimulator, @hyperstorms, @swabin10, @yaoifangirl18 and @agi92. Apologies if you wish to not be tagged. Let me know and I can untag you if you’d like.

Word count: 1200

Hedidn’t know when exactly he started seeing flashes of Regis after the fall ofInsomnia, but he did know that seeing him hurt. A lot. At first, he thought hewas dreaming. There was a fog about him, not really taking on definition. Morelike a basic outline. As time went on, however, the shape took on more and moredetail, and before Cor knew it, he was regularly coming face to face with theking he knew to be dead. It was only ever for a split second, but it was enoughto evoke the emotions that he had tried to keep hidden.

EverywhereCor went was a reminder of Regis. Those hills? They camped and hunted there fordays looking for a specific breed of daemon that was supposed to carry aparticular weapon that they both wanted to get their hands on. That river? Heand Regis spent hours soaking their tired feet in it while Clarus yelled atthem for scaring away the fish. This hotel? They bought a second room for justthe two of them, and he had spent all night showing Regis exactly how much heworshipped him from head to toe until all he had left to offer him was hisspent, naked body and kisses laced with whispered little nothings.

Hedistanced himself from everyone. The fear that they would think that Cor theImmortal was losing touch and seeing ghosts was enough to drive him away fromreaching out to people the way he knew he probably should. There wasn’t much hedid fear; after all, he had stared certain death in the face at the ripe youngage of fifteen and lived to tell the tale. But he feared that he wouldn’t beable to protect the ones he loved, the same way he had failed to be there forRegis.

A sharp,distinct sound of footfalls sounded behind him and Cor whipped around. It couldhave been anything, really. An animal, monster…even a daemon wasn’t unlikelydespite how early in the night it was, yet his gut had proved him correct inthinking it was, in fact, another flash of Regis.

“Why?”he growled, mostly out of frustration than anything, then ran, legs carryinghim as fast as he could through the trees. Hindsight told him that he shouldhave known better than to travel alone, much less at night, but how was hesupposed to show his face? How was he, a weak excuse of a man who ran from theghosts of his failures, supposed to keep strong in the face of the prince andhis posse? How was he supposed to apologize to Regis’s son for being the reasonhis father was no longer with them?

Corducked behind a rock, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. In thedistance, he could hear the daemon was Regis’s face hunting him, and he kepthis hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his katana. He had to survive, atleast, even if there was a part of him that had perished alongside Regis. Whenhe found the gumption to stand again, he rounded back around the rock. Regis’sface stared back at him, as though he had been waiting there for him thisentire time. There was no malice, no evil intent that Cor could detect. Still,he kept his guard up.

“You canrelax. The daemon can’t see us,” Regis said. There was something distant in hisvoice, like he wasn’t quite there, but he was trying his best to reach for whathe wanted. “You’ve strayed rather far from the light.”

Corlooked over him carefully. His katana shook in his hand and rattled in the sheathas the face of a twenty-five-year-old Regis stared back at him, smiling softly.From the corner of his eye, he watched the daemon prowl around them, unable tohear or see them, as Regis suggested. A slight bit of tension melted away fromthe edges of Cor’s features.

“YourMajesty…” he whispered, shock settling into his bones and emotion surgingthrough his veins. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. He had to be logicalhere. Dead kings didn’t come forth from the blue to speak to the living.

“Oh,come now, you know the rules,” Regis laughed a little and stepped closer tohim, but stopped when Cor tensed again. “There’s no need to be so formal whenit’s just the two of us.” The Marshal sighed, feeling childish even under thescrutiny of the former king’s ghost.

“…Regis…”The younger Regis smiled a little more brightly and reached out, then immediatelyfrowned as Cor winced and adverted his eyes.

“Please,look at me,” he begged, and reached out for him again. This time, Cor didn’tpull away. He didn’t need to. A harsh shiver raced down Cor’s spine as Regis’shad went straight through him, and the feeling left him more empty and coldthan he could ever remember being before in his life. Hot tears sprang of hiseyes, but he refused to sob, and he concealed his face in his hands, droppinghis guard altogether.

“I am sosorry,” Regis apologized, and retracted his hand, unable to wipe Cor’s eyes, oreven hold him while he released all of the pain that had been building up sincehe escaped from the Citadel. “I only wished to give you a proper goodbye.”

“Don’t,”Cor choked. His insides burned, and his breathing was harsh, ragged as hecontinued to fight against the sobs lodged in his throat. “Don’t go.”

Regissmiled a little then, and placed both of his hands near Cor’s. They pretended theycould feel one another, even if it wasn’t the same, and would never be the sameagain.

“I must,and you should as well. Keep fighting, and know that whatever path you should takeI will follow. You must walk tall, my love.”

WhetherCor imagined it, or it was by some miracle he felt it, Regis pried his handsfrom his face gently and kissed him with the vigor that he had had all thosenights ago in the hotel in Taelpar. Cor pressed back, desperate, needy, butbefore he knew it, the feeling was gone, and Regis along with it. The daemonhowled from behind him, and with tears in his eyes, Cor hardened his featuresand took him down with a scream that could shake fear into even the mostfearsome of foes.

Again,Regis was gone too soon. Cor wiped his blade before sheathing it again. Again,he didn’t get to tell him he was sorry. He let his feet carry him back to theroad, and then eventually back to the hotel. Again, he buried his face in thepillows and imagined that Regis was there, wondering if maybe he was, and maybehe had gone a little crazy after all.

He’dmake for Cape Caem in the morning. He couldn’t apologize to Regis, but he couldmake his peace with Noctis. It wasn’t the solution he wanted, but he had tostay strong, and he would walk tall in Regis’s stead.

BONUS: Inspiration Track

Requests are closed. Remaining prompts will be filled ASAP.

First Sentence Drabble Master List

#corgis #cor leonis #regis lucis caelum #cor x regis #lion king #final fantasy xv #ffxv: a kings tale #ffxv #ask #first sentence drabble #episoduscae

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winemum-ignis · 7 years

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yoo, im vibrating like we know nothing about ignis?? & im ready to learn more like ive seen theories like he was groomed to be next if lucis line fell, he was a nif agent and his use ran out and etc. like does he only have an uncle? was he nobility or a commoner picked off the streets & groomed into nobility since theres never meant of scientia line like amicitia? why him? imagine each dlc is gonna get more depressing and ignis dlc is gonna hurt so bad. aaaah sorry 4 ranting i just love ignis

ohohohoOHOHOOOH anon you have opened up a whole can of worms bringing this to my inbox and i lowkey love you for it. Never apologise for ranting to me about Mr Scientia ♥ This means it is my opinion o’clock o/

I’m going to apologise now for how long this may well end up because as I am pretty sure you have all picked up by now, I have A LOT of thoughts and feelings about Ignis Scientia. and i have zero regrets and could talk for days about him if given the platform. I will try my best to keep it to a reasonable length though.

Okay. So. *cracks knuckles*

EDIT: wow that is a wall of text I will put in a read more here to save your dashes from my incessant ramblings ☆⌒（＊＾∇゜）v

First off I have a very sinking feeling that there is a reason we know so very little about Ignis and his background because SE are cruel and have basically already said that the Ignis DLC is going to shit on us from a great height the most out of the three so I wouldn’t be surprised if they pull something out the bag that will just. yeah.

So all that follows is just my opinion, and will probably all be null and void if/when we get more info but you think that’s gonna stop me? I think not!

Any family he has outside of his Uncle I do not believe is in Insomnia, if they are even alive. I am positive I read something somewhere about how he is originally from somewhere outside of Insomnia/Lucis hence his different accent to the rest of them, however I can’t seem to find this anymore so I may have been imagining things, but i feel it is most likely.

No matter where they were from, I believe his Uncle was established in Insomnia with his place as an Attendant of the King and he was sent to go and live with him for any of multiple possible reasons. They recognised from a young age his skills, there were better opportunities and education in Lucis so he went, was enrolled in the gifted school program and originally was being prepped for the same job as his uncle. Alternatively, his parents were dead or ill and unable to look after him so, shipped off to the only other family they had to be his legal guardian. And what I believe to be the last option they were in a Nif controlled area/under threat from them and they didn’t want their son to be caught in such an area so somehow got him out and sent him over to Insomnia. Or any combination of the above. and i bet you they are all wrong.

But now a slight detour to if it does involve the latter option in anyway I am going to put my theory of origin location forward; Tenebrae. One and the most obvious reason; the accent. It is the only place where we have seen multiple people from their with a British accent in particular the Recieved Pronunciation. Another theory I have; Noctis was sent there to recover from his accident 12 years ago which to me hints that maybe the Tenebraens have a more natural nack for the healing arts. Maybe it is just more of a prominant thing there but I think that accents quite nicely to how Ignis is the main support for the group; he is the only one with specifically healing abilities and techniques (not excluding that in I want to say episode duscae he full on had ‘cure’ as an ability so…). While Tenebrae was seized by Nifleheim a while ago, Fenestala /manor remained independent so what if one or both of his parents worked in the manor under the Oracle? They would see what the Nif’s have done to the rest of the territory, want better for their son, there has always been that bond between the Oracle and the Lucis Royal Family plus they had a brother over at the Citadel; it would be entirely plausible that they sent him there to try and safeguard his future knowing Insomnia’s defences etc. He went at a young age so they would have gotten him out before the Empire seized full control with the attempted attack on Regis twelve years ago.

Idk to me it just makes sense but that could just be me. Also, this is just what I think is the most likely of different area’s we know about, there are so many out there we don’t know about and more than likely a more viable location ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And as for grooming, I am not sure how much of that was done externally and how much he actually brought it on himself. I firmly believe that if Noctis never got married and something happened to him and he left no heir apparent that, if he was still around, Ignis would probably take what would be the Kings position. ( I can’t say ‘he would be king’ because that is a lineage thing and he doesn’t have it and I don’t think he would want the title) But I think he would do all of the kingly duties just with a different title just for the sole reason that there is no one else qualified to do it all. He knows the expectation of what has to be done, and above that he knows how to do it. He would lead the ‘royal’ council and see that what had to be done was done.

BUT, I don’t think that was ever the primary intention on anybodies part, more just a happy coincidence.

So either way however he got there, he is in Insomnia more than likely with the intention of becoming one of the King’s Attendants. So they get him started, turns out this little blonde kid is hella intelligent and intuitive so yup, there he goes into the Gifted Education programme. This much we know happened. He is the dog’s bollocks, the bee’s knees, and on top of that little Noctis really takes to him and vice versa and they become adorable little citadel buddies. All of this has happened before Noct has had his accident so we are talking Ignis is no older than 9/10.

The incident happens and Ignis see’s just how shaken the little prince is and takes it upon him to try and get him back to his former happy self. He starts going above and beyond to do things for him and this is picked up on and I think this is the point where they enhance his intended path. He is special so they begin introducing to his education things that would be beyond that of an Attendant, that’s when they are looking at more specialised skills and guess what, he excels at that too. There is this kid, not even a teenager who is so selfless in the things he does for Noctis and the thing is, they don’t even know the half of it; the things he does for him that they don’t know about i.e. how he takes the fall for Noct every time he follows him out on his escapes from the citadel, the fact that he learnt how to bake solely to try and put a smile on his face. They’ve seen the potential, so they push it a bit, try and see how far it goes.

A few years down the line, Noctis is supposed to be attending all these meetings and crap and learning how to rule a kingdom but guess who is doing most of it on his behalf? That little blonde kid who appeared in Insomnia to live with his uncle. A few more years and he is all grown up, perfect human being, full on adviser to the heir, strategist extraordinaire, knows all the ins and outs and workings of Insomnia who, if push came to shove in a dire situation, would be fully capable of leading. Happy coincidence that nobody ever would have expected to happen 15 years prior.

And I am going to stop this here as I already spent muuuuuuch more time on this than I intended but I just had to get it out! He just. He makes me. щ(ಥДಥщ) Uuuughhhhhh he gives me so many feelings and I know it will only get worse with his DLC. Look what you have done to me SE, look at the monster you have created.

#Anonymous #ask #final fantasy xv #ffxv headcanons #ignis #ignis scientia #ffxv ignis #ignis stupeo scientia #this fucking man i swear to god #if he was real i would punch him in the face #for the things he makes me feel #his stupid perfect face that shouldn't be allowed to exist #wmihcanon

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