“ Don’t die on me– Please. ” Nyxnoct, either one of them to the other. Be it when it's 10 years later or during Insomnia's fall.
whoops, this took a hot minute to decide on.
“Don’t die on me— please.” Nyx had said, earned the promise of return, and the oath of “you can’t get rid of me that easily, hero”.
He hears it again as the Ring tries to swallow him whole, as he sees Ardyn’s spirit burst apart. He hears it as the magic burns through him like lightning and fire, virulent and overwhelming. He hears it and he’s grinning.
Because he feels another warmth now, as if hands are sinking into his chest and cradling his soul and holding him in place.
“You’re mine, little king.” He hears, “The gods can’t have you.”
It’s whispered closely and he hears it as if from his lover, same as his partner one proclaimed against his skin during the darker nights. His soul feels hotter, warmer, a pale-pink light swallowing him up as if the dawn had risen to meet him. He feels the strangest of pulls as he’s tugged from the inviting depths of the the astral planes and back towards the mortal realms. He feels the break between one life and the next and gasps on a breath when he wakes again to find Nyx hanging over him, a hand on his chest, a bright, orange-gold feather pressed between his lover’s palm and his own healing flesh.
Ignis smiled and Prompt choked on a sob, and Gladio grinned wide, and Nyx—
Nyx leaned down and brushed a hand through his hair, and kissed him slowly.
“Welcome home, dusha.” He muttered against Noct’s lips; Noctis reached for him and hooked an arm around his neck to hold him close for another kiss, relief and triumph and passion all poured into this kiss.
They pulled apart and Noctis laughed at the expressions on his closest friend’s faces, and allowed Nyx to lift him up into familiar arms for the trek off the dais. Noctis wrapped his arms firmly around Nyx’s neck and nuzzled against his cheek, kissing along his scruffy jawline and smiling all the while.
Like an anchor, Noctis followed the heart line tattoo up the side of Nyx’s neck, and kissed below his ear, and twined the matching braids to his own around his fingers, “You’re mine, my captain. The gods can’t have you,” he whispered against his lover’s skin, and felt as much as he heard the smile.
“Only you, dusha.”