At this point, Cloud had tried a little bit of everything. Sometimes he even thought he'd gotten it right, but inevitably something came up and ruined his hard work. Now he thought he was mostly going through the motions of saving the planet, knowing that the timeline would reset eventually, anyway.
He'd come back towards the end of Zack's year on the run, which gave him limited choices on what to do. Of course he'd save Zack, that was a given (even if he decided to pretend to not be as recovered as he was), but he was too late to save Sephiroth or his friends. Too late for Nibelheim.
Instead they lost the infantry tail and snuck into Midgar. Zack insisted on staying together the first few days, but after that Cloud reasoned with him that splitting up, "temporarily," would make them less obvious. The first few times, he hadn't been able to let Zack out of his sight and been fine to feed into his codependence, but he'd come to realize cutting the cord sooner was healthier for them both.
Plus, Zack had Aerith to get to, the one motivation that could sway him away from Cloud's side.
Zack would soon take up what had been Cloud's place as the muscle AVALANCHE needed for now, something that still made him feel just a touch bitter every time it happened. Even though Tifa was a part of Cloud's childhood, she and Zack would inevitably run into each other in the slums and recognize the significance of it, she'd invite him back to Seventh Heaven and find out he was planning on becoming a mercenary, and everything would fall into place from there.
If Cloud took some slight solace in the fact that somehow he had fit in better, that in all the timelines Zack was merely friendly with Jesse, Biggs, and Wedge but never actual friends, he supposed he had a right. Maybe he'd stolen parts of Zack's identity, that first run through (or second, really, even if he only knew bits and pieces from the timeline before), the other had been dead.
He'd never begrudge Zack living, though, had even spent a few timelines focused just on him--keeping him happy and safe, keeping him away from trouble. There was one he'd just ducked into Midgar long enough to grab Aerith then convinced her and Zack to run off together for a happy life. Aerith had, at that point, known just enough of the timelines to accept a break.
This time, while Zack was going through the motions that fate always liked to see, Cloud had to figure out how to access ShinRa. Hojo was still around, which meant he had to keep under Science's radar.
He realized there was one person he could trust to get him access without anyone blinking an eye, though he hadn't run into him in a few lifetimes. It took a little while to setup, getting money from caches and accounts he knew of from previous lives, buying a bike and fixing it up, getting above plate where all the suburban kids were fixing for a thrill and had the open space for racing.
Roche was unmistakable. And exactly the same, just as he always was, even in the lives when he couldn't become a SOLDIER.
And, as with almost every time they met, Cloud caught Roche's attention easily. At least this time, he wanted it.
With contacts dimming the mako glow in his eyes and an outfit that was more fitting for racing than reminiscent of a SOLDIER, Cloud only felt slightly vulnerable in his presence.
"My friend, the heights we have reached this night!" Roche sighed in near-sexual pleasure, his arm around Cloud's shoulders as he dragged him through the building.
Roche didn't actually want sex, Cloud knew, he wanted adrenaline highs and cuddling, which fit into Cloud's own preferences far too well. If anything, Roche probably did untoward things to his bike in private, but Cloud had carefully never confirmed that.
Instead, he was an easy in to the private SOLDIER floors, where the Thirds had their small apartments. Cloud could have slipped out, using the blind spots in the cameras to sneak through the building. He could have assassinated an enemy or two, grabbed some files, corrupted others, even gotten into someone's office and waited for the morning where he'd reveal to them something that would gain him their assistance.
This time, though, he slept, and woke in the morning before Roche's alarm. He let himself spend moments soaking up the human contact before he slipped into the studio's little bathroom and cleaned off with the unlimited hot water the building featured.
"My, my, what a lovely sight to wake up to, resplendent as the dawn!" Cloud huffed out a laugh, dropping a kiss on Roche's cheek as he slipped by.
"Left my number in your PHS. Text me."
And then he was gone, just another unauthorized one night stand a SOLDIER dragged home. He made Roche wait a week before agreeing to another race and they repeated the outcome, except he stayed long enough for Roche to drag him to the cafeteria a few floors up and introduce him to a few of the other SOLDIERS.
"What the hell do you see in Roche?" One asked him the third time he'd done the "morning after" meal surrounded by SOLDIERs. "You could do a lot better." And there was that hungry look Cloud had grown so used to, someone seeing a pretty young thing and deciding just what he was good for.
"He's silly," Cloud answered with a shrug, "and sweet. Better than most guys."
From there, he soon became "Roche's boyfriend." It wasn't hard to get a Regular Visitor's Pass, to become just another person in the background at ShinRa. Even easier to get Roche to let him "sight see" in parts of the building he wasn't authorized to see. No one paid them any mind, Roche was unpredictable and wild, but that made him oddly trusted in his own way.
It was only three months before he conveniently "ran into" Tseng in person, freezing at the sight of him and making the pained-confused-distressed expression of someone getting whammied with repressed memories. "Do I...know you?"
Tseng was startled, but Cloud only knew that because he was so familiar with him after so many years.
They were interrupted by some SOLDIERs, who pressured Cloud into a VR session that was almost tortuously hard for Cloud because he had to hide his enhancements. He knew Tseng would be watching that, might be watching him a lot after, and he kept on good behavior.
"Cloud Strife," Tseng greeted him, the next time they "ran" into each other, too conveniently alone in an area that got very little foot traffic. "We need to speak."
"We are speaking," Cloud pointed out, eyebrows raised, and was unsurprised when he found himself herded into a bare, unused office nearby.
Tseng would know he'd been in Hojo's care, that he'd escaped with Zack, and that Zack was hanging out with terrorists. Beyond that, well, Cloud had a lot of time to think of what to fill in the gaps with, and couldn't wait to see what expressions he managed to force out of Tseng.
Summary: Time travel AU. An alternate Nibelheim breakout.
Ships: Zack & Cloud, Vincent & Cloud
Originally posted here.
XxX
Waking up in a mako tank was never a pleasant experience, even less so when the memories of the past (present?) poured into him and informed him exactly where he was.
When he was told he'd be sent back in time, he wasn't expecting this. He'd hoped, foolishly, it would be years earlier, in time to save his mother, and Sephiroth, and many others.
He hadn't expected it to be soon after Hojo had given up on him, declaring him a failed specimen and leaving.
Him and Zack.
Breaking out was hard, even though he had been sent back as he would be and not as he was, the extra strength from his dips in the Lifestream still within him. Harder, perhaps, because he kept being distracted by memories.
His own memories, clear and whole. He had double vision type ones where his and Zack's overlapped, he had unexpected ones of missions with Turks or other SOLDIERs he hadn't gotten from Zack's copied memories. Two years of Midgar that Tifa could never give him that he wanted to cling to and relive, wanted to exalt in until he knew every little detail.
But he couldn't, not yet. He had to save Zack.
"Get up, Chaos, you asshole, we've got a Calamity to stop," he shouted into the coffin room, figuring the entity would know what Cloud was, if not have memories of him.
But when the lid flew back and Vincent sat up, he was staring at him. "Cloud?"
His own response caught in his throat as he realized this was Vincent, his Vincent, and who was more perfect to have here with him than the other person who knew first hand not only what it was like to be one of Hojo's experiments, but also the constant fear of having himself subsumed by another, foreign presence within him.
"Vincent, we need to get out of here. I've got Zack, he's recovering but it's sooner than it was before, he's still out of it."
Without needing to say another word, Vincent assisted with taking out the security they needed to worry about while Cloud fetched clothing for him and Zack. His hands hovered over the SOLDIER uniforms for a long moment, before he reluctantly dug around for civilian gear, instead. The uniforms hadn't saved them before and he'd take anonymity over the slight protection of the armored pieces for now.
He did still pack two in the bags he found for their supplies, though. Vincent didn't comment on the show of nostalgia (he knew he had no room to, not with that cape of his making it through so many years).
Zack was awake enough to walk as they set out, bundled in the best winter gear despite his protests about Cloud's well being.
"This is nothing, jungle boy," Cloud joked, though he knew he'd be suffering if he weren't so augmented.
Sometimes, when he caught Vincent watching from the shadows, he could feel the weight of his opinion: that they should find a safe place to stash Zack and go on their own, that a normal SOLDIER like Zack would slow them down. Cloud pretended he didn't understand and Vincent let him.
Three nights out and Zack, pressed against Cloud to share warmth, brushed his lips against his ear and whispered, "There's someone following us."
For a moment, Cloud almost panicked, and then he realized that was impossible--yes, people could find them, but to follow them when Vincent was the one keeping watch?
Except Zack hadn't seen Vincent, yet.
"Vincent," Cloud called in the direction he could feel Chaos and moments later he was there, causing Zack to pull away and go for the Buster Sword, putting himself between them. "It's fine, Zack, he's a friend. He was...he was there, too, in the labs." Technically true, which Reno would claim is the best sort of truth.
That relaxed Zack only a little. "And he's been following us this whole time?"
"He's been with us. You've just been out of it, so we thought it better if he didn't come too close."
Zack shifted so he could see both of them, frowning. "When did you have time to get so buddy-buddy?"
Cloud met Vincent's eyes and they had a silent conversation over a few seconds before turning their attention back to Zack. "A lot of weird shit happens when scientists mess around with alien parasites and demons, Vincent and I already knew each other before I broke out and got him."
"Alien what?"
Distracted by a thorough explanation of what Jenova was and a far less thorough explanation of what Hojo had done to Cloud, Zack didn't pry for more details about Vincent.
They decided to leave Zack in Cosmo Canyon (with Nanaki, where he could hopefully protect him if necessary) and promised to bring Aerith to him--he was former First Class, more recognizable, Cloud reasoned with him, whereas Cloud could pull off being some nobody Third if it came down to it.
When Zack pointed out that Vincent looked like the villain in some off-Loveless play, Vincent had simply said, "On Loveless Ave, surely," and made Zack jump because he hadn't realized he was there, proving their point.
Then they started towards Midgar in truth, working through what must currently be happening and what they needed to change. It wasn't the best case scenario, Jenova and Sephiroth would still be out there, Deepground was too far along not to be an issue, but it was better than what they'd had.
Summary: Ardyn's task is unforgiving, his burdens great, but not all of the immortals of Eos are content to leave him wallow without respite: Noctis, the messenger of the god of dreams and mischief, becomes his unlikely companion through the ages.
Time Travel AU.
Ships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum
"This doesn't seem like much reward for the work you do."
Ardyn thought at first he had hallucinated the voice, he'd been starting to do that more than he wanted to admit.
The shadows seemed to seep away from the dark corner of the room, the opposite of how daemons sometimes appeared. A figure stepped out, moonlight from the window alighting over a lovely face, perhaps on the cusp of adulthood, with blue eyes that caught the light and almost reflected it.
Despite the ominous arrival, something within Ardyn relaxed for the first time in a very long time. "It's quite rude to enter someone's chambers without permission."
"And if I'm not there at all, but somewhere else, and allowing you to see me?" the figure mused, tone familiar.
Ardyn sat up in bed, staring. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the power around this stranger, and knew that the comfort he felt was projected from that, somehow. "Are you a god?"
They smiled. "No, I have only ever served gods."
"A messenger, then? Is there something your master wishes from me?" He could not imagine having to bare another burden, another task that an Astral set upon his collapsing shoulders.
"No, nothing like that," the messenger stated, sitting casually on the side of Ardyn's bed as if they knew one another well.
Pale hands reached for him and he held completely still, worried what the messenger might do. He cupped his face and wiped his fingers under Ardyn's eyes, giving the slightest of pouts as if displeased. When he pulled back, Ardyn could see the black ichor painting that skin and flinched at the thought of corrupting a god's servant with the mark of his weakness.
"My name is Noctis." Ardyn tilted his head to the side, not commenting on the name, a soft sound of understanding leaving him after the messenger continued, "my god is Carbuncle."
A messenger named for the night did indeed fit with the God of Dreams and Mischief. But Ardyn didn't think he'd done anything to draw that particular god's attention for many years.
"And why are you here?"
"You have given our charges hope and banished darkness from many of their dreams. I offer companionship to them--I would do the same for you."
***
Noctis appeared without warning, always at night, always when Ardyn was alone. Given his comments during their first meeting, Ardyn realized it was only when he was asleep. They were simply very realistic seeming dreams.
It didn't matter, he realized, because after a night in Noctis' company, he awoke refreshed. He wasn't cured from the Scourge he'd been containing within himself, but it was quietened, as if it, too, had gotten a full night's sleep and wanted nothing more to do than laze about for the day.
He came to pray for Noctis' company, at times, when months had gone with no visit and Ardyn's mind and body were fraying at the edges. Always, Noctis visited him then, soothed him.
Coming to care for him was as inevitable as new cases of Scourge. Noctis was a gentle creature, though he had warned Ardyn time and again that he was a messenger for children and their casual cruelty might be his own. He had even shown Ardyn how he might appear to them, form melting through the years of human development until it reached around Ardyn's own age, hair stained with the beginning of grey, saying it was as old as he ever became.
"I suppose children think thirty is quite old," Ardyn had joked upon seeing it, not resisting the urge to touch and confirm it was as soft as it had been.
Noctis had laughed at that, but there was something brittle to the sound. He realized he did not know how messengers came into being, wondered if Noctis had ever been a mortal, if the lighter hair had been his natural look and it was stained black by the night that was his home now.
"Perhaps someday you will see me look such in the waking world and you may tell me then the differences between our ages," Noctis stated, in that way that made it sound like a prediction more than anything else.
"Is that possible? To see you while awake?"
"It is...draining. I exist safe in the realm of dreams. I can walk in your world, though, but everything I do costs me more."
"I do not wish for you to harm yourself for me."
Again Noctis laughed and again it was uncommonly sharp, like he knew something Ardyn didn't.
"What is it that you're thinking of?"
"I cannot say. There is...so much that I would tell you, if I could. Yet if I even think of doing so, my thoughts fail me, my voice silenced." Noctis shook his head. "That matters not at present. This is what does: I will see you on the morrow, in the sunlight, and allow your fellows to dismiss any doubts you may have of my reality."
He protested, because he knew by now that Noctis was indeed real, but not too much. He wanted to see him.
And he did. In the daylight Noctis went from attractive to stunning, all black hair and blacker shroud, with pale skin peeking through. His eyes seemed all the brighter, flicking between blue and pink as he observed Ardyn dealing with his court, seeming to delight in the little touches Ardyn stole whenever he could.
He was glad it wasn't a day when he was healing. Politics was aggravating, but it didn't give him that bone deep exhaustion, and he could spare Noctis all of his attention whenever there was a free moment. He only wished Aera was there to meet him, Noctis always denying that he could simply go to her and introduce himself.
Somehow Noctis had both Somnus and Gilgamesh friendly with him within moments, regaling them over dinner with what must have been a tale for children of four friends in a flying chariot fighting monsters to bring daylight to a land of eternal darkness. When he told it, their emotions swelled with the story, as though he were a musician and they were his instruments. They could feel the triumphs and heartbreak--the bittersweet ending had Gilgamesh hiding tears.
It was a good day, he thought as he settled into bed that night, having talked Noctis into lying next to him in the last few moments before he lost his physical form, so that he was there already in Ardyn's dreams.
That was the last good day he ever had with Somnus.
***
"Oh Ardyn."
The gasped words were the first new sounds Ardyn had heard in a very long time. Years, perhaps? It was so hard to keep track.
Then there were hands, so gentle. He had forgotten what gentleness felt like. They stroked his hair, so careful of the knots and gore in it, never pulling.
When he managed to open his eyes, the light hurt, but the form before him shifted to block most of it out as soon as he flinched. He shouldn't have had to look to know who it was, but already he was having so much trouble telling reality from hallucinations.
Yet the Scourge was never so quiet, even in his most realistic visions.
"Noctis," he tried to say, but his throat was too dry to speak.
Noctis let go--no, he wanted to say, that's not what he meant--but it was only to retrieve a canteen that he held to Ardyn's lips. He was always so prepared, for a being that needed nothing to survive.
"Noctis," he said again and this time his voice was clear enough, held the desperation within him at just seeing the messenger again.
"I cannot free you. Nor can I stay long. I risk much coming here at all. He will know and even he may command my god in this." There had been no hope within Ardyn that Noctis could free him, so no hope was dashed by that. But he had thought he would stay, at least until Ardyn's thoughts were clearer.
Lips against his brow, soft and smooth, his eyes fluttering shut as he latched onto the moment. He would hold it in mind for his eternity of torture, would not let Bahamut nor the daemons take it from him. Noctis was his, as much as a messenger could belong to any but their master.
"I cannot free you, but I can offer the smallest of solace. A century of dreamless sleep, in hopes that when you awaken, the world will be a kinder place to you."
Ardyn's cheeks were wet with what he feared was ichor, but he felt like he was crying. So kind, his Noctis, to grant him such a reprieve. He knew casting magic on a waking mortal would take much out of him and yet he didn't hesitate. Ardyn could only hope that Bahamut did not punish Noctis for his compassion, the way he had everyone else.
The twilight touch of dream magic seeped into Ardyn's mind, cradling him as Noctis' touches did. And while the sleep was dreamless, he could still feel Noctis all around him.
***
"Who are you?" Verstael demanded, alerting Ardyn of another presence coming into the room.
He reached out with his magic and jerked up immediately, resisting the urge to run a hand through his knotted hair or smooth out his rumpled clothing. That would simply draw more attention to his state. The Scourge settled within him, lulled into calm as though a child whose dreams the messenger had soothed.
"Noctis," he greeted, before he had even come through the door.
Verstael looked between the two of them and Ardyn wanted to push him out and lock the door behind him. He did not deserve to see Noctis, his dissecting looks and speculation were like blasphemy.
"Full glad I am to see you free at last." His eyes glowed pink with delight and he caught Ardyn's hands in his own without hesitation, never shying from the Scourge within him.
Ardyn did not resist the urge to pull one of those hands closer, dipping his head to kiss the knuckles. "And glad am I, to bask in your grace."
A chuckle answered him, Noctis pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He glanced around, a worried frown creasing his youthful face for just a moment before the gentle mirth that characterized him was back in full force.
"And this is?" Verstael persisted.
"Noctis, messenger to the God of Dreams." Ardyn was succinct, gripping Noctis' waist gently and pulling him closer, away from the mortal who was now too fascinated for his own health.
"God of Dreams? That one exists, too?"
Noctis raised his eyebrows. "Few and far are those who follow my master as they grow, mortal minds slipping away from the unfathomable, preferring answers over questions."
Verstael raised his eyebrows. "A children's god, then? And yet you are here for him?."
"Oft was this one in dreams of our flock, hope incarnate to many a small spark."
With a chuckle, Ardyn clarified, pressing lips against the side of Noctis' head as he spoke before Verstael could become offensive and chase Noctis off. "In the olden days, I was...something of a figure of good dreams to the children of my kingdom. Noctis became curious when he realized I was an actual person and investigated."
"Ah, an old friend, then? You're certainly," Verstael's eyes dragged over them, "close. I had not thought you on amiable terms with any god."
Ardyn's hold on Noctis tightened and he stiffened beneath it, but did not pull away. "I have no quarrel with Noctis or his master. They have very little influence over the waking world."
"But over the unconscious mind?"
Noctis cocked his head to the side, regarding Verstael with a look that was wholly inhuman. In his pretty face, which had previously been so natural at mimicking their expressions, it seemed exceptionally alien, enough to unsettle Verstael, enough to make Ardyn know that it had been on purpose.
"Mortal minds are but gardens, tended at the behest of their owners. Not all are equal."
Ardyn wondered what his own looked like in that metaphor. A dark, desolate place, perhaps, of rotted plants and bare trees.
A hand squeezed his arm and he looked down to meet Noctis' blue eyes. "Some are better," he stated, "some are favorites."
He felt...he wasn't sure how he felt, at the pronouncement.
***
"Is this truly your wish?"
It was a dream, Ardyn knew immediately, as much as it was a scene from earlier that night. He had yearned for comfort and forced himself to some approximation of sleep, caught quickly by Noctis' gentle magic, that pushed away the souls clamoring within him.
"I have much to learn of this modern world," he replied, searching through the shadows for where Noctis might be hiding. "And this suits my purposes."
"As did the Infernian."
He stilled. "I would never do that to you, Noctis. Do not fear me." Anything else from Noctis he would accept, if not the love he craved, then hatred. Just not fear.
Arms wrapped around him from behind, the side of Noctis' head resting on the back of his shoulder. "It is not fear. It is concern. His memories warp you, as do all the others' that you steal."
"You are not in them," he whispered into the nightmare scene of the dream, of the people he had daemonified. "The Infernian's memories do not include you."
"Thankfully."
Ardyn supposed that was true. He had searched through them when he could, wishing to know more of Noctis, and had only found a few memories of Carbuncle. He had little reason to associate with Ifrit, perhaps, or Ifrit had little reason to bother remembering the messenger of an Astral he cared nothing about.
"Will you stay with me?"
Noctis pressed a kiss to his shoulder that he could feel even through the thick layers of his clothing. "I have ever been given leave to do so, until you have no more wish for me."
Forever, then, Ardyn thought, and clung to it.
***
Noctis had little to offer Ardyn to help him adjust to the world, of course, children's dreams were hardly an accurate indicator of what the modern world was like. And he had no interest in Ardyn's work. Yet his presence was enough to make Ardyn forget how little they spoke of what he was doing, the reminder that there was still somebody who seemed to care for Ardyn outside of what he could do for them.
He never again commented on what Ardyn was accomplishing and maybe Ardyn let his guard down too much around him, because of that. Allowed too many plans to slip out that, while he knew Noctis wouldn't (couldn't) interfere, were best not told. Children might be fearful, after all, because of actions Ardyn took and that would make Noctis' master cross.
The sigh that Noctis gave over the latest plot seemed at odds with the youthful look he wore even in the real world, weary and ancient. "I will say this but once: Do not tempt the Draconian. If you step within Insomnia's limits and draw his ire, he will take from you that which you have left to lose."
Ardyn scoffed, wondering why Noctis would sound so upset over an empty threat. "I have nothing left for him to take," he stated, voice cold as he thought of Bahamut's tortures, as he thought of Aera's death and Somnus' betrayal. Unwritten even from history, what could he have?
But Noctis did not respond with comfort or compassion, as he might normally, instead as Ardyn watched his face closed off, displaying the unfeeling expression of a proper messenger. "Very well, Ardyn Lucis Caelum. You have your choice before you."
And then he was gone in the slightest waver of the shadows around him, leaving Ardyn frowning at the wall as Verstael stared at him. "What?" he demanded, scowling as Verstael only shook his head and he wondered what he could be missing.
He went to Insomnia, of course, despite the warning, to tamper with the Wall in prelude to an attack. It was close to fun, playing with the current King and Somnus' spirit, but of course Bahamut had to interrupt.
His mind dwelt on the prophecy whenever he could not keep his thoughts distracted. He waited for Noctis to appear so that he could push for more information, then waited for Noctis to appear at all. Months stretching into years, the longest he'd gone without Noctis' presence outside of Angelgard. His prayers unanswered no matter how fervently he gave them.
"You'll want to see this, I assume," Verstael said one inauspicious day, flopping a report down on his desk.
Ardyn looked it over with a sneer on his face--the newest of Somnus' descendants, most likely the "Chosen One" Bahamut thought would slay him.
Then he saw the rest of the file. The unmistakable blue of the eyes in all of the pictures...and the name.
Finally he realized why Noctis had reacted as he had: Now, whether he fought to win against the Astrals' new Chosen King or not, Noctis would die.
Ardyn had always had one more thing to lose.
XX
Original notes:
Carbuncle is called a messenger once in like one canon-y source, but I honestly like the idea of Carby being an Astral who humans just sort of overlook.
Just in case it's not obvious in the story/from the tags, Carbuncle assists Noctis in going back in time post-FFXV to help Ardyn.
"No," Somnus stated, staring at Ardyn in disbelief. "Absolutely not "
"You owe me, Somnus. You will never earn my forgiveness, but didn't you want my, what was it, oh, yes, understanding," Ardyn hissed, throwing it out like a curse.
If Somnus could still breathe, he thought he'd be choking on it. "I thought you were capturing my soul to torture me! Not because you still can't fill out a form, Dyn!"
The office was nearly as eclectic as Ardyn's attire, random objects strewn about that Somnus knew but casual observers wouldn't were often priceless ancient artifacts. A large desk was on one end, away from the door, and upon it were piles and piles of what he just knew was completely unsorted paperwork.
He'd spent over a decade of his life doing their clan paperwork, diligently taking it all onto himself because Ardyn had a calling and had to travel around healing and couldn't possibly approve requisitions or make notes on infrastructure plans.
It was taking a lot of Somnus' normally impressive self control not to start throwing things at him.
Although, he might do it, anyway, because the novelty of being able to touch things hadn't worn off, it was how Ardyn managed to get him all the way to Niflheim before Somnus realized he really should be attempting to escape. Regis needed someone to keep the Lucii under control and Astrals knew it wouldn't be any of his grandchildren, the Rogue was undoubtedly already poking and prodding some of them into fights.
He loved his family, he just wished they'd taken less after him over the centuries.
"Don't pretend like you're attempting a reconciliation, brother." Somnus stomped to the desk, glaring at the piles.
The touch of Ardyn's hands on his shoulder, still so novel after a whole day of it, dissipated most of his ire. Once more, he was fighting not to lean into the touch, not to cuddle against the Accursed (he'd lost that battle multiple times already and was sure Ardyn only allowed it because he knew it upset Somnus).
"It will be just like old times, little brother. Can't you just taste the nostalgia?"
Somnus grabbed a random form, skimming it, then another. They were...actually very important looking. "What exactly did you say your job was...?"
"Oh, I'm Chancellor!"
The enemy empire was going around handing out such positions to strangers they dug out of random islands? How were his descendants still struggling this much against them?
Staring at the paperwork, a plan began to unfold before Somnus. "Won't anyone find it odd you have a ghost for an assistant?"
Ardyn chuckled, ruffling Somnus' hair and sliding into view in front of him, leaning against the desk like he was posing for some irreverent portrait. "Around here? Why, they'll probably just be envious!" He gave the fakest smile possible. "I'm so very glad you've agreed. You were always more fit for desk work than all that silly fighting you got up to."
Somnus stared at the military budget request in his hands for a moment, reminding himself not to comment on how he had murdered both Ardyn and his fiancee with that silly fighting, before looking back up at Ardyn with the solemn expression he'd perfected by now. "I told you what I did was unforgivable, that I do not blame you for your hatred. If this is how I might lessen your current burden, I will do so."
"I wasn't aware someone could learn to be kind, I'm almost impressed." Ardyn pushed off from the desk and gave him a pat on the head as he strode to the door. "Do be mindful of those deadlines, little brother, there's a bit of a backlog."
When the door closed behind him, even that slight jostling of the room had one of the tall piles sliding off the side of the desk, falling to the floor to join countless others that had met the same fate.
Somnus sighed, or the closest approximation a ghost could manage, and began sorting through the papers. One didn't lead an army or found a kingdom without knowing strategic bureaucracy and now he had two goals in mind: topple the enemy Empire and teach Ardyn the value of paying attention to his own paperwork.
XX
Original Notes:
I'm writing, no joke, a serious and not at all cracky Nyx/Ghost!Somnus fic right now and this idea came to me as I was working on it.
Somnus and Ardyn were supposed to rule together, but Ardyn was like never around? And literally fucked off for seven months at one point without a single word? So that heavily implies Somnus had to do all of Ardyn's work of ruling on top of all of his own. But also Somnus is a little shit no matter how old or regretful he gets and he's going to make Ardyn regret this lol
The Six haven't helped Noctis, so he tries another god, one he's been raised to avoid, but who gives him everything he needs to destroy his enemies and take back what's his.
Dishonored Inspired AU. (No real Dishonored spoilers)
Noctis watched the shrine warily, as though it might do something more than just sit there, innocent lacquered wood in its corner of the ruined building, wax melted on every surface around it, trinkets still strewn across it.
He'd never seen one outside of pictures, as a member of the royal family he'd never been allowed near one and no one would risk sneaking him to see one for fear of retaliation. It was the modern era, technically anyone could worship any gods, it didn't have to be the Six, but this...this remained forbidden. Heretical.
He stepped forward, glancing around to confirm there was no one else there. Not that it was likely, the others were still searching the ruins for more survivors and he should be doing the same. Would have been if something hadn't called to his magic and pulled him towards this spot.
It was almost certainly a trap, but set by someone who wasn't the Nifs, so he was curious enough to spring it.
The Six hadn't protected them, not his father or their kingdom. They expected him to die for them, his line to end and his people to be left in even more disarray without central leadership to help them protect themselves or rebuild.
So far, he'd done what he could to defy the Six, and part of that was returning to Insomnia instead of continuing his hunt for weapons and covenants. Refusing the title of King for the moment, even if it was technically his (had always been in a way, he supposed, since the prophecy was set upon him).
The altar showed signs of care, use, and had somehow missed the worst of the debris as the building fell. Noctis studied it, remembering the lectures of his youth on the danger of the Accursed, of how it was the Lucis Caelum's sacred duty to stand against him.
Standing against a god had always felt more like something another god should do. He'd been scolded by his tutor when he'd stated that and given a stern lecture by his father to keep such thoughts to himself.
He knelt, remembering in the pictures it always had heretics kneeling and praying before these things. But the Accursed was already getting a treat out of Noctis kneeling at all, he didn't know if he could manage to beg him for anything.
"We need not be enemies," he mumbled, shifting on his knees, eyes unfocused. "The Nifs worship no gods, they won't allow people to pray to you anymore than my forebears did. If--" he cut himself off, sighing. "This is ridiculous. Talking to some chitzy table."
Noctis stood, brushing off his pants where the white of shattered concrete left a mark against the black. He hadn't expected any sign and he wouldn't be getting any. The Accursed was probably celebrating his kingdom's fall and eager for Noctis' death to end his line.
***
It took a moment for Noctis to remember he was sleeping. This wasn't his normal type of dream and he almost called out for Carbuncle when he realized it was something magical.
The void pressed in around him, darkness slithering against his own magic. It didn't feel as unnatural as it should, which made it worse. He resisted, but with no context could only do so much. Eventually, it had him, the dark around him complete and endless, his magic a suppressed spark, like a distant star in the night's sky.
"Your Highness," the voice was smooth, amused, and after a moment a figure appeared to go along with it.
"Who goes there?"
Tall, probably well-built under the layers of eccentric clothing, red hair that was almost purple. Nothing too weird, until Noctis met the glowing golden eyes.
There weren't many people left in the world with magic, most people saw Noctis' eyes glow and treated him like someone not really human. Seeing these, which made his instincts cry out 'danger!', Noctis could understand why.
"Oh, dear Noct, are introductions really necessary?" A charmingly crooked smile that didn't reach those cold eyes accompanied the words.
Noctis remembered what he'd done earlier that day and the stories he'd been told, face carefully blank as he regarded the god. "Accursed. I didn't expect an answer."
"You did call, how could I not? You were so lovely kneeling to me, even if your prayers need some work." He smirked and this time--for a wicked, dangerous expression--it seemed honest. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of practice. I'll teach you how to be the most devout of heretics."
The implications made Noctis' skin crawl, but when his thoughts caught up to the others parts, he pushed his feelings aside. "You're going to help me? Against the Nifs?"
The Accursed chuckled, moving closer. "Against the Nifs...against the Six themselves. That is who you're truly fighting, isn't it? Niflheim would have been a minor annoyance if they'd answered your people's fervent prayers. If they'd protected your father as they should have."
It wasn't really something Noctis spoke of to anyone, unsure how they'd react to the blasphemy from the prince's mouth, but it was exactly how he felt.
"In exchange for?"
"Why, Noct, has your education on this heretical god been so lacking?" The Accursed didn't seem offended, just amused. "In exchange for you. I will mark you as my own and you will belong to me and no other."
If he hadn't known the other gods wanted him dead, the idea would have been more intimidating. Noctis had technically been Bahamut's already, as all his family had been, but until he put on the Ring of the Lucii and ascended to kingship, it wasn't set. The Accursed could only claim him now, while he clung to the title of prince.
"And what does that entail?"
"I suppose you have had enough surprises, recently." The Accursed leaned back and suddenly the void around them melted into a room. It looked like something that might have been in the Citadel, ages ago, when they'd still been clinging on to Solheim. The floors and walls similar to what Noctis was used to, but the furniture ancient styles, as were the decorations, the murals and tapestries depicting scenes that, upon closer look, were too blasphemous for any space in the Citadel.
Where he'd been leaning, the Accursed was now lounging on a type of couch. He patted the open cushion beside him as though calling to a pet and Noctis reluctantly went, sitting. He'd had plenty of practice socializing with unsavory people and he couldn't afford to piss off a god in their own domain.
"My mark will tie you to me, body and soul. You will gain more control over your own power, new powers, and immunity to my children's gifts...although, of course, they wouldn't go out of their way to attack one of my dear marked."
Noctis had always wondered about that, if the demons really were connected to the void, if the heretics really did get to avoid the demons like they claimed. Having lived outside the wall for a few weeks, he could understand why the Accursed was one of the more popular gods in the fringes of Lucis, if that was the case.
"And you will, perhaps most beneficially, be obscured from the view of the Six."
That was definitely what caught his interest. Power he had, demons he could deal with, but the Six were still too much of a threat. He'd thought of asking Luna more about them, but knew she'd never help him defy them. When this father had told him the truth of the prophecy, just before he'd sent him away, he'd come to realize Luna's devotion to it meant she wanted him to die.
"Completely? They won't be able to see me or speak to me?"
The Accursed looked thoroughly amused, now. "Unless you are physically in their presence, a risk when considering the Glacian, but unlikely for the others." He held a hand out, palm up, and waited as Noctis stared at it, adding in a mocking tone, "Oh? Do you need more time? Are you doubting going against them? Perhaps you'll want to ask your beloved Oracle for more of their propaganda?"
He flinched, wondering if the Accursed had read his mind or if mentioning Luna was pure coincidence.
But he wasn't wrong. What reason did Noctis have to hesitate? And the Accursed hadn't actually said he'd wait, this was certainly a one-time offer.
Bracing himself, he set his hand in the Accursed's, grimacing at the sudden flare of pain and completely missing the Accursed moving until lips were pressed against his, taking advantage of his gasp to push something inside his mouth. It slithered down his throat as he gagged and struggled, a thick, freezing cold liquid that threatened to drown him.
Golden eyes glowed brightly with satisfaction as it went on and on.
And then Noctis woke up choking, leaning over the side of the bed he'd been on and coughing up a splatter of pure black liquid, like the blood of a demon, like the dark of the Void.
No questioning whether that had been a vision or dream, especially not as he saw the mark on his hand, declaring him one of the Accursed's favored.
He fumbled through cleaning up and dressing, relieved the mark was on the hand he kept covered and no one would think anything of it. The sun was only starting to come up over the ruins of Insomnia, the view from the window of the house they'd found mostly intact made longer by how many of the taller buildings have survived, but he couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep.
He thought he might avoid it, for awhile.
***
Ignis watched him closely in the days that followed, as if suspecting something but having too little information to confirm it. Gladio and Prompto hadn't seemed to notice anything.
It started getting harder to hide that something had changed in him after their first few fights--imperial forces, hunts, the demons never randomly attacked them again. And Noctis hadn't gone into stasis since being marked. There was so much energy at his fingertips, so much strength bubbling inside of him. He thought Ignis was filing that fact away with all the others, working on his hypothesis.
Other changes were smaller and he could hide those. His senses were better, he healed faster (he had to hide that regardless, hide any wounds, because he bled as black as any demon, even if the sun didn't bother him much).
The first time he really used any new powers was in an Imperial base. Things had been going well, until they hadn't, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to get to Prompto in time, though he desperately wished he could.
And then time seemed to slow to a stop, everyone, everything, freezing but Noctis. He saved Prompto, saved the mission, and managed to hide how shaky he was until that night, when he slipped from the camper they were staying in and headed out into the dark.
Maybe he'd subconsciously known what he'd find out there, a shrine hidden in a cave, showing signs of recent use. The locals kept it up, understandably.
He knelt, bowing his head to the shrine. If there were ritual words he was supposed to use, he still hadn't stumbled upon them, and instead he simply gave his thanks. It was, he supposed, the least he could do.
The world melted into true blackness around him, the Void unfolding like he was back in the dream.
"Some improvement already!" The Accursed grinned down at him, eyes dark and hungry as they roved over Noctis' kneeling form. "Perhaps you should build me a temple once you have conquered the Empire, dear Noct, so that all can see how lovely their prince is when he prays."
He kept his face blank, but was sure the Accursed knew he wanted to grimace at the idea. "I think we can keep things private between us."
"Ah, of course, you're so shy at heart, you wouldn't welcome any voyeurs."
Noctis thought of the Accursed's lips against his, that he owned Noctis' body as much as his soul, and wondered if that meant carnal worship. There was a flash of heat as he imagined it before pushing it away.
"Oh such thoughts, dearest, how flattering." The Accursed set fingers under his chin and pushed, Noctis having to stand and tilt his head back to follow the movement.
He braces himself for a kiss, for some other touch, but they weren't forthcoming. Instead the Void began to slip away, the cave coming back into view.
"Keep practicing, dear Noct. Impress me."
For a moment, that felt like it's all he ever wanted to do.
***
The nights grow longer, as the Astrals warned, but the sun still rises. Niflheim is beset by an uncommon amount of demon attacks, enough that the fact reaches Gladio through the networks he's been building. No one but Noctis knows the reason.
He dreams of the Accursed, even though the Accursed doesn't visit them. There's never been anyone he's dreamt of like that before, waking up wanting and unfulfilled. During the day, be pushes those feelings aside.
Ignis continues to watch him, eyes wondering sometimes to his gloved hand. Suspicion isn't confirmation and Noctis loves Ignis, but he's not sure he can trust him in this.
Prompto is the first Noctis tells and only because he sees him stabbed through by a blade under bright lights, black splashing across the control booth they'd been in the process of sabotaging.
He'd been more worried for Noctis than judgmental and Noctis had found the story falling from his lips before he could think better of it--the shrine, the Accursed, the powers he was still learning and improving.
"Wow," was Prompto's first response, and then, "But you're...alright, right? This isn't like with the ring where it was sucking out the king's life?"
"It's nothing like that. It's like...it's like being tapped into Accordo's power plant. There's so much power sometimes I worry I won't be able to stop using it, but it's not taking from me." It didn't have to, his life was already forfeit to the Accursed, even if the god spoke like he didn't want it any time soon.
Prompto had helped clean him up and patch the wound, exclaiming over how quickly it was already healing. "When are you going to tell the guys? I bet they could work some of the stuff you do into our tactics."
"I don't know. Both of them were raised to hate heretics, to see the Accursed as the source of all evil in the world or whatever."
"Dude, they won't hate you. We've all been freaking out about the prophecy, about you dying, if you tell them this is a way for you to save Lucis and not die? They'd forgive you anything!"
He reluctantly agreed and sat down with them the next time they stopped, insisting they could camp in the wild instead of searching around for a "safe" place. Those runes didn't keep Noctis out, but they did make him itchy and uncomfortable.
"I suppose that's why the demons have been avoiding us," Ignis stated, pushing his glasses up, "I had wondered."
Noctis rolled his eyes, pulling off his glove and revealing the back of his hand, the black mark that seemed to suck in the light around it. "Come on, Iggy, I know you were probably going to confront me any day now."
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Our ether stores have been nearly untouched, despite your greater use of magic in our fights. You also have seemingly crossed large buildings in seconds as well as other events which I now realize were...signs of time manipulation."
Gladio had been the most disturbed, perhaps Ignis had already talked himself around to accepting that Noctis was Marked by the Accursed, but Gladio hadn't had a clue. And the Shields of the past would never suffer a heretic to live if they came anywhere near one of their charges.
Accepting that his prince was one of those heretics, that he'd let Noctis slip away long enough to fall into the Accursed's claws, seemed to trouble him.
They fought over it, harsh words exchanged, Gladio ripping into him for not accepting yet that he was King, accusing him of cowardice.
Noctis wasn't half as angry, even when what Gladio said should infuriate him. The Mark had dulled that in some way, he thought, and emotional pain meant less than it once had, just the same as physical pain did.
He let Gladio go off on his own, knowing that he would be safe, and they avoided directly interacting for a few days before Ignis, disgusted, forced them both into the back of the Regalia and told them they couldn't leave until they'd "gotten over themselves."
"It's not hurting you?" Gladio broke their silence and Noctis nodded. "And you're not going to die?"
"He's talked about me doing stuff after, rebuilding and shit. I don't know if he'd care if I died, but he's not going to go out of his way for it."
Gladio grunted in acknowledgement, seemed to collect his thoughts, and then dragged Noctis out into the wilds beyond the car and forced him to show off every single thing he could do until he thought he might actually find his limits and collapse.
Everyday they trained, they searched for new powers and pushed old ones further. Sometimes Noctis imagined claws on his fingers, imagined sharp teeth to rip through Gladio's neck and the warm taste of red blood in his mouth. That he didn't have them felt more unnatural than if he had.
He never told the others that and they did not comment on the black blood that seeped from his wounds and curled into smoke before it even hit the ground.
***
He 'awoke' to the Void in a garden of some sort. It felt, again, like something half-familiar, like he'd seen the shape of it before even if the contents were different. The Accursed wasn't there or, at least, Noctis couldn't sense him, and so he walked around the garden, studying the flowers and fountains. The Void was supposed to take and take and leave nothing behind, was supposed to be pure destruction, but these scenes were a sign of something like creation, even if they were temporary.
He sat on a stone bench, it felt real. Cold and hard. If he concentrated, he thought he could smell the flowers. It was kind of nice, more peaceful than the dreams he'd been having, that were alternating between destruction and death and increasingly disturbing fantasies about the Accursed. If those were dreams and not visions, not the Accursed in his mind less obviously than now.
He was wearing his normal clothes, but his hands were both uncovered, and he stared at the back of them. In the Void, the mark glowed, a sort of magenta color that Noctis didn't think he'd be able to see well with his physical eyes.
"It's so lovely on you." The Accursed was beside him without warning, bringing Noctis' hand to his lips, kissing the mark with gentle caresses of his mouth, making Noctis think of the dreams, think of how the Accursed seemed to know his thoughts. "But you know it's not the source of your powers. It's a brand of my favor, a show of your exalted position."
Noctis looked away, only for the Accursed to drop his hand and grab his face, forcing him to look back. He kissed him, then, and the low burn of arousal his other touch caused ignited like a fire given fuel, Noctis kissing back and thinking finally, finally even though they'd only met a few times.
When the Accursed pulled away, he kept his arms locked around Noctis, holding him close. "You know what you are, don't you, dear heart? You know what you will ever be."
His thoughts felt heavy and it was hard to concentrate, but Noctis nodded. "I'm a daemon, somehow. A daemon that can still look human."
"And I hope you don't let your form deceive you. It's convenient, and necessary if you wish to regain what you lost, but it is only because I will it to be so." The Accursed's hands roved over him, touching, teasing, edges of claws catching against his skin, bare as his clothes melted away. "Oh, Noct, I would craft you the most delightful form, humans would weep at your horrible beauty."
The beast inside of Noctis which he'd been struggling to contain, the daemonic part of himself, wanted what Ardyn offered, wanted to be whatever Ardyn desired. But he still had his mind, he hadn't traded that away with his body and soul, and he resisted the urge to beg for it.
"Less monologuing, more fucking," he muttered, pulling the Accursed in for another kiss, though he knew that his god was aware of all his thoughts and desires.
***
Once upon a time, Noctis had liked Luna. When they met as children they'd been isolated young royals with no one their age who were true peers, so it was probably more out of desperate loneliness than actual commonality.
Luna had already been obsessed with the Six and with being an Oracle. She had spoken of those subjects often and introduced Noctis to the Messengers she knew. Young and naive, unaware of the prophecy looming over him, he'd gone along with what she'd said, had not questioned any of her knowledge.
Meeting her as adults, in the clandestine meeting hastily setup when she apparently noticed he hadn't gone to Titan or Ramuh yet, he saw her beliefs for the fanaticism they were. Her words were the Gods' lies.
"You must continue," she protested, when he made it clear he had no intention of doing so. "I will awaken the gods, you will forge the covenants, and--"
"No." Noctis' voice was firm, unrelenting. "You can do whatever you want, but I will not go to your gods, I don't want nor need their favor."
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ravus shift, his expression changing from the glare it had been to curiosity. He'd been hostile since they'd met, since before that though they hadn't seen each other in years, and this was the first time he'd seemed anything else.
Luna shook her head and grabbed his arm, "Please, Noctis," she began, cutting off with a cry as their skin touched and power flared between them.
They both stumbled away, her hand clutched to her chest and Noctis holding the place where she'd touched, feeling a painful throb of wrongness. He squeezed his eyes shut and tucked himself over, worried what his face could show.
"You…Noctis, something's wrong."
Gladio was between them, now, and Ravus stepped forward as though to act as Shield for his sister in turn. Ignis was looking over his arm, studying the burn mark in the shape of Luna's fingers. The Oracle could purge small amounts of Void, it was told, and Noctis shuddered to think what would happen to him if she actually tried.
"Nothing is wrong, Lunafreya. I was given another option and I took it."
Silence descended and when he looked at her over Gladio's shoulder he could see horror clear on her face. "You're a heretic," she choked out, as though the very thought was anathema.
"The Six didn't answer my prayers, but someone else did." He stood up straight again, projecting surety. "The Accursed isn't what they claim him to be. Most people in Lucis knew that already."
Ravus spoke to Luna before she could say more, "If he does not want the covenants, all the better. You won't be throwing your life away awakening the gods. What becomes of him is his own problem, now."
He pulled his sister away, even as Luna yelled back at Noctis that she'd find a way to "free" him, that he'd follow his destiny once the Accursed wasn't controlling him.
Noctis laughed after her, all the way back to his hotel room and the comfortable bed that awaited him. He hoped the Accursed had enjoyed her folly, too.
***
Finding a shrine in Lestallum was basically impossible, but they lived demon-free inside the city (or, at least, demon-attack-free), so Noctis knew he should have guessed that. Right outside was a different story, in the little communities of people too poor to live in the city or who were hiding away for one reason or another, and the guys' looked the other way when Noctis sensed one and went off to pray.
It was well-maintained, the candles lit before Noctis even got there. He placed a scarf he'd picked up from the market, neatly folded, on top of it as an offering–he didn't know what actually happened to them, but the Accursed seemed to like scarves, and at worst someone out there would be able to keep the night's chill off a little better.
"I need to know more," he whispered, uncovering his hand and running his thumb along the patterns of the mark. "Why am I Chosen? Why were my family fighting you?"
The Accursed did not answer to him, but he seemed willing to divulge information. Sometimes Noctis thought he just liked the sound of his own voice. Sometimes Noctis wondered if he actually got to speak to that many people or if there were only a handful that he could visit. Marks were rare, after all.
His thoughts began to waver, the candles flickering, and then he was in the Void.
The place formed in the Void was one he knew well, it was the altar to Bahamut in the Citadel. The differences were minor, the large room mostly unchanged for millennia.
The Accursed laid on the altar propped up on one elbow, watching Noctis approach. "And here I thought you'd been hiding from me, dear Noctis."
He frowned, wondering if the lights had kept the Accursed from reaching him and that's why there hadn't been any dreams, not the lack of altars.
"I spoke with Luna a few days ago," he stated, glancing down at his arm, frown deepening when he saw that the burn had traveled with him and seemed worse in the low lighting of the Void. It ached now that he paid attention, as though the flesh was trying to pull away from it.
There was a hiss like a thousand serpents at once and then the Accursed was gripping his arm, scowling down at the wound. "She touched you." It wasn't a question, just a furious exclamation, so similar to Luna's own disgust right after touching him that Noctis almost laughed.
The Accursed's hand settled over the burn, dwarfing Luna's small print, and a flush of dark power flooded through Noctis, making him feel lightheaded in the best of ways. He hadn't realized how weak and sickly the burn had made him until that moment. It wasn't the lights keeping the Accursed away, he realized, it was the Oracle's power tainting Noctis.
When the Accursed kissed him, he immediately responded, starving for his touch, for more signs of his favor to wash away the light's corruption. Only vaguely aware of how odd those thoughts were.
"She said that I couldn't stop it, that she or the Six would find a way to 'cleanse' me," he muttered, aware now that the Accursed hadn't been witness to the meeting and unsure if he could even see it in Noctis' memories. "That...my soul belonged to the Six and they wouldn't let you steal it.
The Accursed held him even tighter, claws gouging into Noctis' flesh, shadows wrapping around him. "You were born to be mine, all of your line was. Bahamut was the one to stole Somnus from me, twisted his thoughts and feelings until he sold himself, and all of you. But I never stopped waiting for the day one of you would return to your rightful place."
"Somnus? The founder king?"
"My little brother. Back when I was human. Or, I suppose, close enough. Izunias are never entirely human, are we?"
There was too much to take in, Noctis wished this was a dream where Carbuncle could put things on hold, give him time to process.
At least it seemed like the Accursed was dangling this information because he wanted to tell Noctis. He just wanted a show of interest, maybe.
"Izunias?"
"Our family name, Lucis Caelum was what we adopted after Solheim's fall, when naming traditions were...in flux. We were both, you see, just as you should have been." He spread his arm out as if showcasing Noctis to an audience. "Noctis Izunia, proud scion of one of the highest of houses within Solheim."
That wasn't too weird, even if he was still reeling over their supposed relation. "You were human?"
Here, another dark emotion flashed across the Accursed's face. "I was, once," he acknowledged. "The Gods decided they wished to hobble the Void, to weaken or even destroy it, regardless of the consequences that might come from such actions. And to do so, they needed a vessel. And so they picked a pious King, Chosen for his obedience and kindhearted naivete."
The Void started to encroach on the illusion of a room, the shadows darkening, crawling across the space. Noctis watched them warily and when he glanced back at the Accursed, he saw his sclera were completely black, making his irises' glow brighter.
"They sacrificed me to create a God of the Void and thought they could then slay me, and the Void alongside me."
"And that didn't work out well, because you're still around."
"Oh, it may have worked, if they'd gone about it another way. If they hadn't tricked me, if they hadn't forced my dear little brother and my fiancee to betray me. I would have been their lamb to the slaughter, believing I was doing something good." The Accursed smiled, a flash of too-sharp teeth. "I was so heartbroken that I would not consider their supposed reasons and the Void was equally furious, in its own way. We became more than a power and its vessel and I became a god."
The Accursed could be lying, but Noctis didn't think he was. He could have come up with a more believable story, if he wanted to manipulate Noctis.
"All the more reason, I guess, not to care about them," he dismissed, digging his own hands into the Accursed.
After Niflheim, maybe it would be the Six he took on--they took on--because Noctis didn't doubt they would deserve it. And Luna had seemed so fragile, even with Ravus protecting her, he didn't think it would be difficult to take her out. Even his friends would help, they'd kill anyone who was a threat to Noctis, and by then he hoped the Accursed would give them a sign or two of favor.
But for now, time was frozen outside of this realm and Noctis was greedy, wanton, from the return of his health.
"Show me what you'll make me," he whispered against the Accursed's lips, "when I don't have to look like this anymore."
It was like any prayer from Noctis, one the Accursed gladly answered.
XX
Original notes: I couldn't think of how I wanted to end it, so just did it here lol assume Noctis gets his revenge of Niflheim and starts murdering gods, while also rebuilding his kingdom. And probably uses like a daemon army and everyone around him ends up mildly daemonic lol
Summary: Someday, after Noctis becomes King and continues the family line and passes on, he'll be Bahamut's newest Messenger. Until then, he's seeing how much his friends will put up with before they ritualistically murder him to repent for his sins. Crack fic.
Ships: Bahamut/Noctis (kinda)
Warnings: Mentioned Kinks and Fetishes, Blasphemy, Noctis and Gentiana are trolls, Daddy Kinky, Noctis is maybe a monsterfucker, Dawn of the Future spoilers
XX
When Noctis had his first vision from the Draconian, it was awe inspiring. He was crying when he came back, huddled on the floor of his apartment, overwhelmed by the experience.
By the dozenth, he'd gotten fairly used to it, even though the people around him still acted disturbed by his glowing eyes or the way he apparently flickered in and out of existence as Bahamut spoke to him of famines, or attacks, or which team was going to lose next week.
By the twentieth, it was starting to feel routine. Bahamut was just his manager at a really weird job and he wasn't even that bad once they worked out how best Noctis could handle things he was told. And that was cool, he'd saved a lot of lives and spared his father a lot of stress. And helped Prompto make a good chunk of money through sports betting.
After he'd basically lost count, he had a hard time thinking of Bahamut as a scary authority figure and started to think of him more like he did Cor or Clarus--yeah, sometimes they were in charge, but that didn't mean he couldn't give them shit.
Of course, he'd never jokingly call them "daddy" in front of his friends and then have to continue saying it just because of the result.
"I don't even know if it's technically possible for me to blaspheme," he argued for the umpteenth time when Ignis begged him to stop ("please do not refer to the Draconian as 'sexy dragon daddy' during the Oracle's visit, Noctis, please, I will never try to make you eat a vegetable again").
He, of course, never agreed to anything, and when Lunafreya (who he'd only ever met briefly before, when she first officially took over as Oracle from her mother) and her brother (who he had met a few more times and couldn't stand) arrived, all bets were off. She was so obedient and respectful. Just doing whatever the Astrals and those Messengers that followed her around said.
"I was made to look like a human version of the Draconian," he mused at one point during the visit, when the "younger" crowd had been put together in a room for lunch (Gladio tensed behind him as soon as he started and he wished he could turn around to see the not quite hidden panic in his eyes), "and the Mystic was made to look the same," Lunafreya was watching with wide, fascinated eyes and he smiled, "which makes me wonder: do you think it would count as clonecest if we could hook up?"
The noise Gladio made behind him reminded him of a dying Garula on a nature show. Ravus had dropped his spoon in his soup, which had splattered all over his pretentious white shirt. Ignis had his head in his hands, hiding his face. And Lunafreya, well, she was blushing bright red and confused.
Gentiana, nearby as she always was with the Oracle, leaned closer, opening her eyes to meet Noctis'. "Would these two boys together not be twincest?" she countered, and even though her face was as serene as ever, he couldn't help but think that she totally got it.
"Damn, I really need to ask daddy if Somnus and I were genetically identical."
"Your father?" Lunafreya looked between them in innocent confusion.
Noctis laughed. "No, he's my dad, he's not my daddy." Beside him, Ignis seemed to be trying to slide under the table without anyone noticing, so Noctis made sure to lean closer and draw attention to him. "I mean my sexy dragon daddy." Seeming to give up, Ignis all but jumped away from the table, muttering some excuse under his breath.
"The Bladekeeper," Gentiana explained, nodding sagely.
Lunafreya looked between the two of them in dawning horror. Beside her, Ravus had started to giggle, a tiny, nervous noise that Noctis recognized as the "the gods are going to smite us any second" reaction some people who didn't know the gods at all had.
"Yeah, who else? You know, the guy who occasionally makes us mere mortals look like little copies of him (without the sexy tail) because he's that narcissistic."
Gentiana patted Lunafreya's shoulder. "For his own face, the Bladekeeper's affections never stray. This boy, his current interest."
"Both you and the Founder King...look like the Draconian?" Ravus was sobering enough, perhaps thanks to Gentiana's continued calm, to form words.
"Yeah. It's wild, but I'm not going to yuck anyone's yums. Also, it's totally understandable, right? We're hot."
Both Fleurets were staring at his face, coming to terms that they now knew what the Draconian's visage looked like. It had taken some time for that to sink in with his friends, who weren't even that religious, so he didn't know what to expect from the Oracle and he brother.
"How do you even have sex with an Astral?" Lunafreya asked after a moment, seeming to be distracted by pondering the mechanics.
Bahamut was pretty big, even in his smaller form, so Noctis didn't blame her for wondering. And even though this had started as a joke, the longer he went with it, the more he did start to...kind of want to try it. Having sex with his doppleganger (or, he supposed, the other way around) intrigued him. And his tail was sexy.
"Many ways are there to partake in the pleasures divine," Gentiana, the smug little minx, answered.
He raised his eyebrows, she inclined her head, and even though they'd just met, he knew she was offering to talk to him about it later.
With a nod, he turned back to his actual goal for lunch: seeing how long it took until his Shield stepped in to stop him.
"Wait, okay, backtracking. If I managed to get Somnus' spirit out of the ring...would that be necrophilia?"
The creep touched him and Cloud did the first thing he could think of that would still help him stall, pushing Corneo back onto the bed and holding the heel of his boot at his throat. "No touching without permission."
Corneo made an absolutely disturbing noise and bucked his hips. "Oh, yes, Mommy, show your naughty boy his place."
The silence stretched as Cloud tried to comprehend what was going on. He didn't know a lot about sex, when he thought about it all that came to mind was an awkward required health course when he'd been a cadet. Sometimes he wished he knew more, knew how to respond when someone like Roche flirted with him after such a good fight that Cloud maybe would like to see him again, but he had no memories of ever actually having sex.
And this was clearly some sort of sex thing.
He leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes, looking as threatening as he could while wearing a tiara and soft makeup. "If you keep talking, I'll have to spank you."
That set Corneo to outright babbling, twisting around as soon as Cloud removed his foot and presenting his rear. Cloud grimaced, moderated his strength, and started spanking, rolling his eyes at the loud moans that caused.
Is this what sex was? He didn't recall anything like this being mentioned before, but then ShinRa had been most focused on teaching them how to use protection and what sort of trouble they'd be in if they got caught having sex on duty.
Now that he thought of it, he bet people would have paid good money to have Sephiroth spank them. People seemed to really like when he ordered them around.
He'd have to ask Andrea, he decided, when he went to return the earrings. If he could get up the nerve to.
The door slammed open, revealing a battle-ready Tifa and Aerith, as Corneo shouted, "Oh, yes, mommy, I've been such a bad boy! Show me my place!"
Cloud closed his eyes and imagined sinking into the floor, deep below the surface, and everyone forgetting he existed so he'd never have to speak of this.
Originally posted July 30, 2022 on AO3
Summary: Two thousand years ago, Ardyn and his brother founded Insomnia as a haven for supernatural creatures then had a falling out that echoed through the ages. Now, Somnus' last mortal descendant might be the newest reason for war between the brothers.
Final Fantasy XV Vampire AU
Ships: Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Tags: Dark, Politics, Ardyn Izunia being Ardyn Izunia, Ambulatory Wheelchair User Noctis Lucis Caelum, Vampires, Prejudice Against Humans
XX
New mortals at the club were a common sight, there was a higher turnover than most with the little "accidents" that could happen and there were enough rumors to keep the thrill seekers coming.
Ardyn did not normally pay them any mind, sat as he often was in the VIP lounge with some of his favorites, drinking and discussing upcoming political maneuvers, but there was something about this one--their alluring scent, the calm beat of their heart, something--that drew his attention along with most of the other vampires in the room.
The newcomer was young, perhaps verging on too young to really be there, but they were beautiful enough he could understand why the bouncers allowed a fake ID through, even just seeing them from the side. Their hair was dark and shined a myriad of colors in the light of the club, the only real color against their pale skin and all-black ensemble. Small, but not too small. Fit, but not too muscular. He did not normally pay attention to newcomers, but this one he thought he might make an exception for.
And then the mortal turned to face him, unmistakable blue eyes meeting his, and if he still needed his heart to beat or his lungs to breathe, he thought he'd be in trouble.
Not, though, as much trouble as Noctis would get him in if the wrong sort caught wind of this.
He waved him towards the entrance to the lounge and gave the security guard there a mental nudge to let him in. The leer he gave Noctis got him another, far more painful mental touch.
And the guard wasn't the only one leering, the gazes of the club making Ardyn have to fight back a snarl.
"Uncle Ardyn," Noctis greeted with familiarity as soon as he was close, and it was enough, for the moment, to watch the horror melt onto the faces of those around him.
"My dear Noctis, what a pleasant surprise." He pushed whoever had been beside him away, opening a space on the couch for Noctis. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
While never the most emotive, Noctis still shot him an impish grin as he took the seat. "Oh, just the usual--seeing if it's possible to give gramps a stroke."
Someone made a choking noise nearby, surely realizing that "gramps" was Somnus, Ardyn's counterpart, brother, and worst enemy. Most everyone else in the lounge stayed quiet, still, as though waiting for something awful to happen and unsure whether running or hiding was their best option.
Ardyn laughed, patting Noctis' head (unsurprised to find it filled with product to manage the artful spikes). "If only that were possible. But if you wished for a spot of clubbing, there were...safer options to choose."
Noctis shrugged, leaning into the touch like a flower towards the sun. No one dared touch him at home and the poor boy had always been starved for physical affection whenever Ardyn had seen him, something he'd thoroughly taken advantage of to win him over despite being a "creepy old dude."
"Are there, though? Who's going to want to piss off both you and Somnus?"
Noctis looked smug enough that Ardyn entertained the idea of reminding him that Ardyn had no issue with upsetting Somnus, but Noctis was being too amusing to scare away so early into the night.
He motioned to a server to bring over some drinks and then sent a glare around the room, indicating to everyone they should at least pretend to go back to normal.
"And are your minders lurking around somewhere, too?" he asked to gauge Noctis' current sentiments.
The scowl would have been answer enough. "I gave them the slip earlier, unless something comes up they won't know I left until I get back."
"That's my clever boy." Smart enough to know that they would find out, though having lived over half his life with vampires, Noctis knew most of their abilities well enough, at least when it came to the clans under Somnus' rule.
Noctis preened at the compliment, leaning closer. "The clubbing thing is kind of a front, anyway. I actually wanted to talk to you, without any of them listening in."
Ardyn raised his eyebrows and glanced around the lounge again, checking to make sure none of his brother's spies were in attendance. He often allowed them in to keep track of where they went and what information they had access to, but he'd have to kill any that overheard that.
Deciding it was safe enough, the lounge filled only with those beholden to him and the mortals they had under their thrall, he looked back at Noctis. "Oh? I'm intrigued."
Noctis rolled his eyes. "I need a favor."
"Oh, dear, are you sure?"
"I get it, okay, it will cost me. But I figure the price will be pretty easy to work in."
Ardyn wondered what it would be. He'd broken it to the boy years ago that he couldn't "free" him from Somnus, which as far as he was aware was the only thing Noctis could want. He had a large trust with very few restrictions, servants who would do nearly anything for him, and knowledge that most mortals would never obtain. There were, perhaps, some areas of the city and surrounding lands that fell under Ardyn's domain where he wouldn't normally be allowed, if he was feeling adventurous, and some species of immortals who he hadn't met yet, if he was feeling reckless.
"I want you to take my virginity." The sudden silence, again, made it clear that no one had actually stopped listening.
Perhaps there was one other thing, then, that Somnus and his people wouldn't give Noctis.
"I'm flattered."
Noctis' shoulders sank. "But won't do it?"
Ardyn held up his hands. "I did not say that, dear Noct. Please, allow me to speak." The look he received made it clear that Noctis knew he couldn't stop Ardyn from talking if he wanted to. "What was the price you were thinking of?"
He would do it for nothing more than the act, for the knowledge that Somnus would eventually learn the truth of Ardyn corrupting his last living descendant, but he'd always take more if offered.
"Well, I thought we'd do, you know, the whole thing. With you drinking from me, too."
Ardyn saw a few of the vampires around him licking their lips and he very nearly did the same. While a mortal, and so many years removed, Noctis still had magic in his blood, the sort that had attracted Ardyn and Somnus' own sire. Delicious, and in this case more or less forbidden.
"You trust me that much?"
He shrugged. "I think you don't survive to be as old as you are without some self-control. And killing me like that won't be half as fun as me going back to Somnus' place stinking of you."
They would have hours, yet Ardyn found himself wishing for longer. To take Noctis completely apart, to have him in every way. He doubted Somnus would let the boy out of the house again for years after this.
XX
Original Author's Notes:
I'm sorting my drafts into a new order and digging up a bunch of old stuff. This has two other parts that are not at all finished that I may write more for and post up.
This started as a Kindred: The Embrace AU (no lie, it was going to be Nyx/Noctis and if you know KTE you can probably guess what was going to happen lol) and then just...went completely different haha
